“We can both help you.” Kate’s prideful tone is back, brassier than ever. She beams at me, as if she has found the perfect solution. I can’t help but smile at the happy in her eyes, even at the cost of myself. “Right?” she asks me. Her eyes are so full of hope it practically guts me.
They all stare at me. Waiting. Motionless. I still have a chance to bolt for the door. Run for the hills. Hell, I could run into the trees behind the football field and let Mother Nature take me. My boot squeaks on the tile floor as I shift my body, and Kate’s eyes bore deeper into me, the hope slowly turning into desperation.
God help me. “I guess we’re going dress shopping.”
The girls squeal in excitement, and I wish the Earth would split in two and swallow me whole this very moment.
“Why did you drag me into this?” I grumble in Kate’s ear. She’s scouring the racks, dresses slung over her arms and a pair of shoes in one hand. Her dark curls are pulled up into a half braid, small wispy pieces grazing her bare neck. I haven’t been this close to her in almost two weeks. Keeping my distance has been excruciating, worse than when I had to swim ten miles with a fifty-pound rucksack on my person.
Kate laughs at my misery, eyes dancing with delight at the current situation. “You can’t deny that this might be more fun than trying on tuxedos.”
“The jury is still out.”
I glance up from the racks of dresses to the other side of the store where Benny is being measured. The last time I went tuxedo shopping was nine years ago.
For Brennan’s wedding.
A rigid tightness crawls up my neck and into my jaw as the memory of the one he wore that day flood my mind, blending with the haunting image of him lying in his casket, wearing that same black tuxedo. My chest tightens, heat rising in my throat as I try to blink away the scene and focus on the sparkles and tulle in my hands.
“All you have to do is give a thumbs up or down,” Kate interrupts my thoughts, her voice pulling me back to the present. “Give your honest opinion, and it’ll be over before you know it!” She plucks another dress off the rack—a purple one with lace on the shoulders—and adds it to the growing pile. Hideous.
“That means I have to actuallylook.” The idea sends a crawling feeling down my back, and I have to shake it off, knocking one of the dresses off a hanger.
Kate rolls her lips. They tremble in the corners under the resistance, but a small bubble of a laugh slips through. “Just follow my lead. Look at me the entire time.” She waves these instructions off, completely unaware of how often I already do that. I wonder if she’ll ever be aware of how often I look at her. How often my eyes are drawn to her like magnets.
I’m constantly amazed at the things she’s never noticed.
She slips away with the pile of dresses, and I’m left alone in the clearance aisle, a plethora of prom hopefuls scouring the options around me. Fluff, puff, and glitter threaten to suffocate me as I find my way to our reserved booth. Yes, there are designated seating areas we have tobook ahead of timein a place like this. A specified selection of chairs faces a mirror in the center of the store. My hope for subtlety on being here goes straight outthe window when I see myself in said mirror. Linen button-up, scuffed work boots, and my Glendale baseball cap are an eyesore compared to the peppy moms and grannies accompanying their teenagers. Aside from Benny, I’m the only male in this place, except for Sebastian, who works here and is currently telling Sarah that orange isnother color.
The girls make their way to the seating area, flute glasses filled with cider in hand. I would know because I’ve downed five of them sitting here.
“Alright, ladies. Let’s get this thing started!” Sebastian booms from the back, clapping his hands and gesturing Sarah to the room behind the mirror. I slouch down into the cushioned chair I’m currently residing in and lean my head against the back. Sebastian hovers over me with a tape measure draped around his neck and a pencil behind his ear. “Are you having fun?”
“A blast,” I say, closing my eyes as he gives me a twitchy smirk.
“It’ll be over before you know it,” Kate whispers from my right. “She’s going to pick the purple one.”
I moan into my hands, sliding even farther down until the chair tips my hat off my head, blocking my eyes. This is perfect, actually. I’ll just stay right here.
I hear a small gasp leave Kate and the rustling of movement in front of me. Peeking through a hole in my hat, I see Sarah glide out of the dressing room wearing a green number with puffy sleeves. It’s almost as bad as the purple one. I glance over to Kate, who is giving it a thumbs up, a giddy smile stretched across her face.
She looks over at me expectantly, thumb still raised. Sarah is preoccupied with assessing the back of the dress when I finally sit up. I readjust my hat to see more clearly and confirm my original thoughts. Awful. It’s so awful I wouldn’t bury my worst enemy in it. The material is shiny, the sleeves are almost as big as her head, and there’s a huge bow in the back, drawing a littletoo much attention to that specific area. Sarah’s not my kid, and I don’t have any feelings about what she does and doesn’t wear out in the world, but I do respect her enough as a young lady to be honest.
“It’s awful.” I give a thumbs down.
“Malcolm.” Kate scoffs at me, her smile changing from joy to horror, her cheeks screaming for relief the longer she holds it in place.
“I’m not gonna lie to the kid. Sarah, it’s bad.”
“Thank goodness, because I hate it.” Sarah rushes off behind the partition.
Kate gapes at me, a mixture of impressed and confused distorting her features. “How did…” She trails off, turning to face the mirror again. I watch as she ponders, her nose wiggling side to side when she does. You can confirm Kate is in deep thought by one of two things: wiggling her nose or sticking out her tongue to one side. Both are adorable to witness but impossible to take seriously. I watch as her nose slowly stops moving, her gaze shifting back to me. “Is there anything you can’t do?”
The question catches me off guard. How I left that impression with a dress vote is beyond me. I chuckle and scratch my jaw with both hands. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Oh, come on.” She sighs. “There isn’t anything you can’t do, Malcolm! For heaven’s sake, you hand-carved a massive prom sign in less than a week!”
“I just had a lot of time on my hands,” I say softly, hoping it doesn’t come across as a jab. The truth is, I agreed to do it to keep myself busy. Going from spending almost every moment with Kate before camp then coming back and barely seeing her has been eating me alive. My hands were burning at the sight of her, longing to touch her. Hold her. Kiss her until my vision went hazy. I had to do something to get rid of the pent-up energy.
