Poor Little Dead Girls (17 page)

Jessica shrugged, but Brett gave her a wry smile.

“Eating on the day of the dance? What are you guys, amateurs?”

Jessica rolled her eyes. “She’s right. Thayer and the minions never eat before dances. They claim it makes your stomach stick out, but really, it just makes them act like even bigger bitches than usual. I guess if I had to go to dances with Finn, though, I’d be acting like a bitch too.”

“Yeah, what’s his deal?” Sadie said.

“He’s not that bad,” Brett said thoughtfully. “He’s just, you know … a rich kid. Guys like him grow up with no one ever saying no to them. And his family is kind of intense.”

“Whatever,” Jessica said. “I just know he gets drunk at every dance and then starts hitting on everyone while Thayer gets pissed and follows him around like an angry sheepdog.”

“Really?” Sadie said. “So he’s seriously not that into it?”

“Not at all. They’re practically an arranged marriage — both their families have been close for generations — but Thayer totally bought into it. She thinks they’re the modern-day Romeo and Juliet — although, that really just shows how much she doesn’t pay attention in English class. I don’t think he really cares. He just gets her those presents all the time to keep her happy and keep his family off his back.”

“Wow,” Sadie said, feeling almost sorry for Thayer. Her relationship was as fake as her extensions, and everyone knew it but her.

“All right, let’s go,” Brett said and stood up. “The guys are picking us up at five, so that only gives us, like, six hours to get ready.” She took off toward the door, leaving Sadie to wonder whether or not she was being sarcastic. Ten minutes later in Brett’s room, she found out the answer.

“Okay, here’s how this is going to go.” Brett pulled up a spreadsheet on her laptop. “We’ll all shower now and blow-dry. At noon, Ken and Jesse are getting here to do our hair — my mom’s treat. She practically pays them as full-time employees anyway, so it’s no big deal. Sadie and Grace, you guys go first since your hair’s long and will probably take a while. Jessica and I’ll go next. By the time you’re done the ladies from LaBelle should be here, and they’ll do your manis and pedis. We’ll go when you’re done, then we can all go put on our dresses, come back here for makeup at 3:30, and all be ready for pictures and stuff at 4:30. Sound okay?”

The girls nodded.

“Okay, guys. Break.”

Out in the hall, it was quiet — way quieter than it had been during midterms. As Sadie walked, three girls slipped out of one of the rooms, their hair in Velcro rollers and green masks smoothed over their noses and chins. They padded quickly down the hall, short pastel robes fluttering behind them, and disappeared into another room.

The next three hours passed by in a blur, and at 4:30 they met back in Brett’s room. Sadie was already exhausted, but she couldn’t believe the transformation. They all looked fantastic, and she noticed even Jessica couldn’t resist sneaking glances of herself in the mirror. They spent the requisite fifteen minutes fawning over each other’s hair and nail polish, then argued over who looked prettier and whose dress made them look skinnier. When they were done, Brett broke out the champagne.

“Courtesy of Ken and Jesse,” she said with a grin. “They smuggled it in for us.”

She popped the cork, and they all shrieked and frantically pulled their skirts away from the frothy bubbles that spilled over the top. Brett poured the champagne into two empty water bottles, a green Keating mug, and her silver pencil cup, and they toasted clumsily and chugged it down. For something so pretty, it tasted like fizzy old shoes.

“Who wants the last glass?” Brett said, tipping the bottle and shaking the dregs. Grace and Jessica shook their heads, and she looked at Sadie expectantly.

“All you, Sadie. You look like you need this a lot more than we do.”

She let her breath out in a rush. “Oh my god, you guys — I am dying. Does it really show that much?”

Brett handed over the champagne. “Kinda.”

Sadie plugged her nose, threw her head back, and chugged the rest of the bottle. When she came up for air, they were all grinning at her.

“Better?” Grace asked.

Sadie paused. “Can’t tell yet. Ask me in ten minutes.”

“Why are you so nervous, anyway?” Brett asked.

Jessica made a face. “Oh, I don’t know, she’s only going with the guy she’s been completely in love with — and practically stalking — since school started.”

Sadie smacked her on the arm. “I’m not that pathetic.” She laughed. “Okay, maybe a little. But I also just — ” She looked down at her gown. She gathered the fabric in her hands and shrugged. “I’m not going to have any idea what I’m doing tonight. The last dance I went to was in our gym, and I was wearing jean shorts.”

“Okay, we’ll talk about the fact that you actually ever thought it was okay to wear jean shorts later, but for now, you should not be worried. At all.” Jessica smiled. “It’s just the same old people from Keating and Graff that you see every day. Remember how ridiculous Charlotte looked last Saturday during practice when she was prancing around in her push-up sports bra trying to get the Graff team’s attention? And remember those dumb freshmen that tried to get a tan in the quad a couple weeks ago when it was like, sixty degrees outside? Yeah. Those are the people you’re worrying about embarrassing yourself in front of. You’ll be fine, I promise.”

Sadie sighed. “Thanks, Jess. But what if I’m not wearing the right thing? Isn’t this a little … much?” She looked around the circle, eyeing Jessica’s red mini, Brett’s chic, black strapless gown, and Grace’s simple blue column. “I feel like I’m way too dressed up.”

Grace, Brett, and Jessica simultaneously burst into laughter.

“You really don’t have any idea what you’re walking into, do you?” Jessica said. “Trust me, half of the girls out there will practically be in wedding dresses, and a few of them will actually be in wedding dresses. With tiaras. And maybe diamond-studded veils, just for kicks,” she added. “You look perfect — as always, you little skank.” She grinned.

“Okay, fine. No more whining, promise.” Sadie finally felt herself start to relax, and she could feel a warm little glow spreading throughout her body. Maybe Jessica was right. For the first time that night, she started to feel excited.

Brett glanced at her laptop. “Eek, you guys, it’s time to go. The guys should be here in,” — she checked her watch — “eight minutes.”

When they reached the top of the staircase, Sadie could see the rest of the students already gathered in the lobby, huddled excitedly in groups and whispering behind shielded lips. She felt a hint of nervousness creeping back up, but she forced it down. The shit-talking was practically wafting around the lobby like poisonous gas, but she realized for once she didn’t care.

The four of them settled into their usual spot in the corner of the room, and a minute later, Mrs. Darrow hovered over them.

“I specifically remember telling you ladies that this would be a black-tie event,” she said, brow even more furrowed then usual. “That means length, and that means elegance. This event is at the Hay-Adams, and you, Ms. Harris, are sorely underdressed.”

“Oh, really?” Jessica looked down at her dress in mock horror. “Well I guess I could go put on my dress from last year’s Spring Gala. It’s right upstairs in my closet.” She smiled sweetly and looked up at Mrs. Darrow through big, watery brown eyes. The other girls snickered. Last year, Jessica had made her dress herself — using black duct tape — and Mrs. Darrow apparently hadn’t been amused.

She didn’t take the bait though, and instead she just pursed her lips. “That won’t be necessary,” she said. “You’ll just have to,” — she wrinkled her nose distastefully — “make do.”

After a sneer, she addressed the rest of them. “You all look beautiful, by the way. Perhaps you could lend your friend some guidance when it’s time for the next event?” They all nodded solemnly, and she looked satisfied. “Now, your escorts are here. Please remember your manners, and keep in mind that you’ll be representing Keating tonight.” With a last disdainful glance at Jessica’s bare, tanned legs, she headed off toward another group of girls.

Sadie’s stomach tightened into its usual knot as she walked toward the door, one elbow linked through Jessica’s. Together, they pushed through the door and stepped out into the night. As the door swung shut, blocking out the chatter of excited voices and the smog of over-applied perfume, everything was suddenly still. The quad was dotted with rings of light from each of the old-fashioned, but LED-retrofitted, street lanterns that lined the circular drive. Snow was falling in soft flakes, and the lawn was a flawless sheet of white, save for a narrow path of footsteps leading from Ashby’s steps to the road. With the stillness all around them, Sadie felt a calm start to spread over her. It was a beautiful night — she felt beautiful — and she was about to go to a ball at one of the most famous hotels in the country. The champagne felt pleasantly warm in her stomach, smoothing over the jagged edges of her excitement with a fuzzy confidence that took the place of her nerves.

They stood at the top of the steps in their gowns, blowing heat into their cupped hands, until the door of a sleek black limo opened. One by one, their dates stepped out into the snow.

Josh was first, and he walked straight up to Brett and kissed her full on the mouth. She kissed him back — a little awkwardly, Sadie noticed. She leaned slightly away from him at impact and then forced a smile as they parted. Brett had been her usual impeccable self since that morning two weeks ago in the cafeteria, and she had even been wearing her tennis bracelet again, this time with matching diamond earrings. But still, something had shifted.

Jessica’s date was next, and he looked surprisingly handsome in his black tux. He was nervous, though, and his voice cracked as he tried to tell Jessica how nice she looked. She just grinned and marched him back down the steps to the limo, throwing Sadie and Grace a smile and an awkwardly concealed thumbs-up as they climbed inside.

Next was Grace’s long-time boyfriend, Eric. He was tall and lanky, and apparently a nationally ranked chess player, but Sadie had only met him a few times. He nodded to Sadie before politely taking Grace’s hand and leading her down the steps. Whatever disadvantages Brett claimed Graff guys suffered from their privileged upbringing, Sadie thought, they sure had impressive manners when they chose to show them off.

Finally, the door opened and she saw Jeremy unfold his six-foot-four-inch frame and step out of the limo. He paused for a moment, their eyes meeting across the expanse of snow, and it took her breath away. He looked, for lack of a more eloquent description, so hot she could barely stand it. And then he smiled.

He strode up the path, stomping his way through the fresh snow, and took the steps two at a time. When he reached her, he came so close she could feel his breath on her cheeks.

“Hi,” he said simply, and grinned.

She smiled back up at him and swallowed, all of her energy going towards resisting the urge to wrap herself around him.

“You look beautiful,” he said. He stepped back, making a show of admiring her dress. Then he spread his arms wide. “Like the penguin suit?”

She laughed. “You look great. Way better than all the other guys wearing the exact same thing.”

“Thanks. I spent at least five minutes picking it out.” He grinned. “Okay, now show me your shoes,” he said, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

She pulled up her skirt a few inches and stuck out a glittery black sandal. “Why? Are feet, like … your thing?” She grimaced, but he just nodded his head in mock seriousness.

“Just as I suspected.” He looked out over the snow, then back at her mostly-bare feet. “Looks like I’m going to have to carry you.” He grinned again and swept her off her feet, lifting her easily like she weighed no more than a basket of laundry. He squeezed her affectionately, and she felt a surge of excitement pass through her. As they neared the car he looked down at her. “You were right, you know.”

She stared up at him, her eyes jumping from one pupil to the next and finally settling on a space somewhere near his chin. Their faces were so close she felt exposed, like he could see right through her mask of makeup and straight down to her shaky core. She was acutely aware of every part of her that was touching him — his arms across her back and under her knees, and her arm wrapped tightly around his neck.

“About what?” she asked.

“The dress. It’s perfect.”

The Hay-Adams was grand and elegant and a little stuffy, just like everything associated with Keating and Graff. The limo dropped them off under the wide portico, and a swarm of bellhops in starchy uniforms instantly manned the doors. She and Jeremy followed the others through the lobby, up a small flight of stairs to an elevator, and then out into the ballroom. It was elaborately decorated with shades of gold and cream, and there were huge white flower arrangements on every table. Sadie realized it looked exactly how she pictured Thayer’s house might look on an average Tuesday.

The guys led them to a table just off the dance floor, and they all found their seats while their dates took off toward the bar. Sadie sank into one of the chairs and scanned the room. Once her eyes adjusted to the glare of the aggressive floral arrangements, she was genuinely surprised. While the ball felt totally different from her dances back home, in some ways it was exactly the same. Or at least, the cast of characters were all there, just in more expensive outfits.