Immediately Allie’s eyes flash and she turns around. “Chloe!” she hisses.
Seraphima smiles. “It’s quite all right. My hairisbeautiful.”
My jaw drops. I’m actually enjoying this. It’s like watchingClash of the Titans.
I can practically feel a force field of anger bristling around Allie. She purses her lips, considering Seraphima’s corn dog. “You really should watch what you eat,” she says sweetly. “You wouldn’t want to lose your figure.”
Seraphima blinks innocently. “It’s the funniest thing! No matter how much I eat, it all goes to my breasts!” She peers at Allie and then turns to me. “Is it normal here for girls to have a mustache like boys?”
I practically spit out my drink.
Oliver stands up and grabs Seraphima’s arm, hauling her upright. “We’re going to go before someone loses an eye.”
Seraphima frowns. “I’m not done eating.”
“Delilah will bake you a cake when we get home.”
Allie and her clique float into our places, like an heirloomlinen being spread across the dining room table and settling all at once.
“Well,” Seraphima says. “Looks like we must move along. It’s been so lovely meeting you common folks.” She leans closer to Allie. “And this reallyisa perfect location for you. The only other people are five tables away, and you looksomuch better from a distance!” She tosses her a perfect, genuine white smile, leaving Allie speechless.
I walk off beside Seraphima and Oliver, knowing that Allie is staring at us as we go.
Maybe having Oliver’s ex around has its perks.
The minute we step through the door of my house, Frump starts barking. He circles Seraphima in her new outfit, sniffing her jeans and biting at the tail of her T-shirt. “Stop!” she cries. “Frump, you’ll rip it!”
He barks and sits back on his haunches.
“Well,Ithink I look rather fetching,” she argues, crossing her arms.
Oliver intervenes. “Frump, she can’t flounce around here in a gown all day without drawing attention to herself.”
“And,” Seraphima adds, “look at what I candoin this outfit!” She lunges and stretches, as if she’s about to run a marathon.
Frump shakes his head so hard his jowls flap. He lets out a pitiful yelp.
A tiny frown mars Seraphima’s flawless face. “I don’t care.I love this place. I love what I’m wearing. And I’m stayingforever.”
“You can’t,” Oliver says immediately. “You don’t belong here.”
“And we need to get Jules back,” I chime in.
“You don’t belong here either,” Seraphima tells Oliver. Her eyes fill with tears. “I’ve never gotten to be myself. I’ve always been the princess everyone expected me to be. Even the prince in my story didn’t love me. For once, don’t I deserve to be happy?”
Frump starts barking so loud that I’m certain the neighbors can hear him. “What’s he saying?” I whisper to Oliver, but neither Frump nor Seraphima is paying attention to us.
“What was wrong with being ourselves in the fairy tale? Everything!” Seraphima wails.
He bares his teeth, growling low in his throat.
“Maybe I’m not becoming someone different,” Seraphima says to Frump. “Maybe this is who I always was.”
He yips and turns in a circle, looking pleadingly at her.
“But wearetalking,” she answers. “We’re talking right now.”
Frump goes very still, and his head hangs low, the tips of his ears dragging on the ground. His tail is tucked between his legs.
