Alex’s expression is almost comical when he sees me. After I got dressed, I’d texted him and asked him to pick me up. I didn’t really want anyone else to see me, Owen and Charlie included, until I was already at school. I hid in my room, ignoring my mother’s calls for breakfast, until I saw a flash of yellow turning up the driveway. I ran down the stairs, yelled a goodbye with my bag already slung over my shoulder, and flew out the door before my parents could catch a glimpse.
As I jog down the stairs, trying not to pull at my skirt, Alex gets out of the car. He blinks at me as I approach, his mouth slack.
“Hi . . . what . . . um . . . hi.”
I laugh. “Good morning to you too.”
His eyes trail down my body, lust and shock warring in his eyes. With the black skirt, I’ve slid on a dark-green Pebblebrook High School T-shirt from my freshman year that hugs my hips and boobs just right. My tall black combat boots finish the ensemble.
Alex is still speechless, and it’s so tempting to press myself against him, look up at him through my lashes. I even sort of want to purr at him while I do it. These clothes make me feel sexy, make me want to touch and be touched, make me feel in control. But there’s still that weird something between Alex and me, a gap I can’t seem to cross, so for now I just smile at him and shrug innocently.
“What are you . . . why are you dressed like that?” he asks.
I shrug again and offer him a half-truth. “Just something for Empower.”
“I mean . . . not that you don’t . . . er . . . look nice, but you’re going to get sent home.”
“I know.”
He tilts his head toward me. “Scheming?”
“Maybe a little.” I laugh to cover up this mess of anticipation and anxiety and elation and fear I can’t shake since getting dressed.
Alex’s eyes darken on mine, the concern in them unmistakable, but before I can say or do anything else, the front door bursts open behind me.
“Hey, man,” Owen calls. I don’t turn around, but I hear his feet pound down the steps. “Did I text you for a ride in my sleep or something?”
“Uh . . . hey,” Alex says. “No, Mara asked for a ride.”
I turn around then. Owen’s digging in his bag, attention on the contents. “Mara?” he says, pulling out his dark blue beanie hat. “Why—”
He sees me then. Really sees me, and his eyes expand, wider and wider until I’m sure his lids will split from the tension.
“What the . . . ?” His mouth stretches open as he takes in my outfit. “Um, no. Just no.”
“Excuse me?” I ask.
“Seriously? There’s no way I’m letting my sister go to school like that.”
“I’m sorry—?let me?”
“Yeah, let you. You think I want everyone staring at your . . . at your . . .” He waves his hand toward my legs. “Who are you supposed to be, slutty schoolgirl?”
My heart nearly stops at the disdain in his voice, at how quickly I can become someone else, a certain kind of girl to him, just because of what I’m wearing. Owen has always had a problem keeping his mouth shut when he’s upset. When we were eight, the remnant of a hurricane covered our whole state in thunderstorms for days, canceling our swimming pool birthday party. He was so mad when Mom told him, he used every swear in the book and got sent to his room without cake. Our years are filled with these little moments, f-bombs dropped behind teachers’ backs and in front of our grandparents, clipped tones and strained voices before auditions and finals.
But this is more than a snarky comment. This is me and he should know better. He should know better about a lot of things and I’m not going to be the one to calm him down this time.
I lean toward him, gritting my teeth to keep myself from screaming. “That’s exactly who I’m supposed to be.”
“Mar, come on,” he says, rubbing at his forehead. “Alex, tell her this is a dumb idea.”
Next to me, Alex radiates tension. He’s never been very good with conflict. When Owen and I would fight over the Wii controller in middle school, he’d try to get us to play some boring game like Sorry! or something, just so we’d stop arguing.
“Please go change,” Owen says, his eyes pleading.
“No.”
“Then I’ll tell Mom. You think she’s going to let you go to school like that?”
