‘Well, some of the guys posted on there are total creeps, sure, but some of them are just really shitty dates,’ she tells me. ‘You could use the app to find those guys and go on dates with them, see if any of them might be right for the wedding.’
Use Redflags for bad instead of good?
‘That’s… actually kind of brilliant. Crazy, sure, but so crazy that it might work,’ I reply.
‘You should definitely give it a go,’ Faye says. ‘Even if it’s a stupid idea, it might be a fun exercise, and good feedback for the app.’
‘Maybe I will,’ I say as I step out of the changing room.
The dress I’m wearing is… well, it’s something else. It’s black and tight, stopping about halfway down my thigh, clinging to my curves in all the right ways. The neckline is high, but the middle of the dress features a panel of see-through black mesh that plunges almost down to my belly button. The hips have mesh panels too, giving the whole thing an edgy, daring look. It’s the kind of dress that meets the dress code with the high neck but definitely pushes the boundaries with the mesh panels. Seph never said anything about mesh, though, so technically, I’m in the clear.
‘Oh my God, perfect,’ Molly says, practically squealing.
‘Are you kidding me? I’d fuck you in that thing,’ Faye adds, giving me a quiet round of applause.
I bite my lip, turning slightly to get a better view of the back in the mirror.
‘Are you sure?’ I ask.
‘You might have to buy me dinner first,’ Faye jokes, making us all laugh again.
‘No, I mean about wearing it to the wedding,’ I clarify, still feeling a little unsure.
‘Absolutely,’ Faye says, nodding emphatically.
‘Honestly, it’s so nice,’ Molly adds. ‘You look so comfortable, and so yourself in it.’
‘I feel it,’ I reply, feeling a smile tug at the sides of my lips. ‘I feel really good in it, really confident.’
‘Then buy it,’ Faye commands me.
I smile to myself, looking at my reflection one more time. The dress is so me, and it does technically fit the dress code. My family might hate it, but that’s kind of the point, isn’t it? They already think I’m beneath them, so why not show up in something that’s completely and unapologetically me?
‘Okay,’ I say finally. ‘I’ll take it.’
And everyone else can deal with it.
18
I walk through the front door, juggling my keys, my shopping bags and the cheap bottle of white wine I bought myself for my busy night in.
The smell of something cooking hits me immediately, and my stomach drops. Oh God, please don’t tell me Steve’s cooked for me again. Why did I believe him, when he said I could live with him ‘no strings attached’ – all I have done is made myself available for unsubtle persuading to give things another go, 24/7. It’s going to take more than a lasagne, or whatever it is he has cooked – even if it does actually smell pretty great.
As I turn the corner into the living room, ready to launch into some half-hearted excuse, I stop dead in my tracks. Steve is sitting at the dining table, but he’s not alone. Is he on a date? Oh, awkward…
Then I notice the woman next to him. She’s in her early twenties, with lilac hair, and a nose piercing.
Steve jumps up as if I’ve just caught him in bed with her.
‘Oh, Lana, you’re home early,’ he blurts out, his face flushing.
I glance at the clock on the wall. If anything, I’m late.
Oh, this is sad. So, so sad. I see what he’s trying to do, and it’s tragic.
‘It’s okay, I’ve got stuff to do. I’ll just head to my room,’ I say with a smile.
Steve’s relief is theatrical.
