But he'd left, and I never saw him again.
It wasn't until a year later that I realized he hadn't even gone to my school.
I self-consciously tucked my hair behind my ear. Did he even recognize me?
Know who I was?
Why couldn't I have done something normal? Any other guy I could have forgotten — not him.
My eyes burned, my body hurt, I was starving my ass off, and I looked like I'd just gotten run over by a chicken truck. Taking a deep soothing breath, I focused on the previous night.
We were both at the wedding.
We both drank.
Did he remember anything? Or was I the only cookie-eating loser who had blacked out partway through our night of fun?
I would not freak out. I couldn't freak out. Ha, Ha, I was officially losing my damn mind. Calling my sister was out of the question. Not only would she be massively disappointed in me, but she was supposed to be packing for her honeymoon.
Stepping away from the door, I placed the dress gently on the toilet and stared at it.
That dress had betrayed me.
Grandma Nadine had promised it would be magical. She'd said, and I quote, "Beth, you just trust Grandma. She has everything figured out for you."
Figured out. My. Ass.
I should have figured Grandma Nadine would have something up her sleeve. After all, the woman meddled in everyone's lives, thinking she knew what was best. She was like a freaking cupid, only she wore leopards instead of hearts, and even on her worst day she could still outsmart the CIA.
The dress glared at me.
I made a face.
The white sparkles on the dress reminded me of my senior prom. It was white and looked like something a princess would wear. My stomach clenched at the memory…
"Will you dance with me?" Brett held out his hand.
Once I picked my jaw off the floor and my breathing returned to normal, I grasped his hand and leaned against his chest as KC and JoJo's "Crazy" came on the loudspeaker.
I couldn't believe I was actually dancing with Brett Xander. I tried to appear calm, but my heart was beating erratically against my chest. I pulled back and smiled. "Thanks for doing this for all us girls."
"No sweat," he responded, seeming to genuinely mean it. "I mean, it would have sucked to not graduate."
"Not graduate?"
"Right." He rolled his eyes. "My penance for being a jack-off for the last four years came in the form of my idiotic teacher saying I needed to learn how to be less self-absorbed. Unfortunately, my parents agreed. So not only did I have a shitload of homework to do to get my grade up, but I had to do community service."
"Which was what? Taking out all the AP girls in biology?"
"Hell no." He laughed.
I instantly relaxed.
"It was to pick girls who I knew wouldn't get dates and take them with me to prom. I mean, no offense, Beth. You're kinda hot in a nerdy, pent-up-sexually-frustrating librarian-type way, but you're much too smart and intimidating for a guy to actually date."
"I'm too smart?" I repeated, stunned. I mean, I knew he was an ass for doing what he did and not realizing how much it affected the rest of the girls, but still? To call me out? On a special night?
"Well, yeah." Brett nodded and pulled me close. "Maybe if you dumbed yourself down a bit, people would like you."
"People?"
"Yeah." He actually looked embarrassed. "I mean, it's not just dudes that walk the other way when you stroll down the hall. People think you're like one science experiment away from pulling a Carrie on the entire school."
"Right." My lower lip trembled. "Anything else?"
He squinted. "Wow, you're taking this really good."
"Yup." Lies. All lies.
"It wouldn't hurt to get a better rack. Then again, you probably haven't grown into your body yet. It happens."
The song ended. Brett leaned over and kissed my cheek. "Hey you're pretty cool for a nerd. Thanks for the dance."
I stood motionless in the middle of the dance floor, unable to cry, unable to feel, really unable to do anything except look down at the white dress and wish for once I was the princess instead of the ugly duckling.
"Beth!" Jace knocked on the door. "If you're done freaking out, we need to go."
"Right." I wiped my wet cheeks and clenched the dress in my hands. It wasn't magic. If anything, it was just a reminder that I was exactly where I'd been when I'd graduated in 2000. A loser. A loser with a small rack who preferred math and science to Facebook.
"Beth, I'm serious. It's not looking good."
"Keep your pants on!" I yelled, irritated that he was making me hurry. With a curse, I pulled on the dress, put my wet hair in a quick pony tail, and opened the bathroom door. "What's the big hurry?"
Jace held up his phone. It said Grandma Nadine.
"Hello!" a loud voice yelled. "Jace! Beth! Hurry! Grandma has this all figured out."
"Famous last words." Jace nodded. "But we have no choice."
"No choice?" I repeated. "What? Is the mafia after us or something?"
"Worse."
"I highly doubt that."
"Look." He pointed to the TV. Reporters were in front of a hotel, looking excited as hell.
"The news?" I asked. "Why is that worse than—"
"Special reports say the senator took a prostitute back to his room at midnight last night and has yet to check out! Which raises the question, has the senator truly put his murky past behind him? Sources close to the senator's ex-fiancée say the cheating scandal from two years ago nearly destroyed him. One more scandal won't bode well for the youngest senator in state history. After all, how can we trust a man who can't even keep a fiancée?"
"That's enough." I grabbed the remote from Jace's frozen hand and threw it onto the bed. Great. So not only did I lose my virginity to a politician, but now I was a prostitute. I reached for his cell phone and growled into it. "We'll have words later."
Grandma snorted.
"But get us out of here first."
"Say the magic words."
"Uh, please?" I nudged Jace out of his paralyzed state.
"Not those words."
I closed my eyes and allowed visions of my calm and sterile office to bring back the peace into my body. That didn't work., I needed to think about Vampire Diaries.
Damon Salvatore. Damon Salvatore. Damon Salvatore. And happy place found!
"I can't read minds. What words do you want me to say?"
Grandma chuckled. "Why, thank you, of course!"
"For?"
"How was he?" She giggled like a school girl. "Men with power seem to have a special type of—"
"Thank you!" I all but shouted. "Now get us out of here."
"Roger."
The phone went dead.
I looked to Jace for help, but he seemed to be fighting a losing battle with his tie as he tried to pull it from his neck.
"Stop." I swatted his hands away. "You're going to hang yourself if you keep doing that."
He shrugged.
"What?" I loosened the tie. "No snappy retort?"
"Not feeling snappy," he said dryly.