Porcelain Keys (12 page)

The dress was the one thing I’d snagged from the attic before Dad screwed the hatch shut after finding me there one too many times. I hadn’t intended on wearing it to homecoming, but after spending hours searching through a sea of sequined bodices and frilly skirts that belonged on Cinderella or Glinda the Good Witch, I realized all other dresses paled in comparison to this one. This was the only dress good enough for Thomas. I wasn’t going to homecoming with him, but this dress would make it impossible for him not to notice me.

Dad had gone deer hunting for a week, so I’d have plenty of time to put the dress back in its hiding place before he got home. I hung the dress on the back of the bathroom door as I showered, letting the steam unwrinkle it.

Still dripping wet after my shower, I heard the doorbell ring. Dirk couldn’t possibly already be here, so I threw on a bathrobe and went downstairs to look through the peephole. It was Vivian, holding a plate full of something. I cracked open the door.

“Hey, darlin’,” she said, “I brought you some macaroons.” She looked at the towel wrapped around my head. “You goin’ somewhere tonight?”

“Homecoming,” I said.

She gasped. “With Thomas?”

“No,” I said, and I could hear the disappointment in my own voice. “He’s going with someone else.”

“What? Who?”

“Trisha. She’s blonde and beautiful and has the body of a dancer.”

“Oh, honey, we’ve got some work to do.”

She handed me the macaroons and dashed away. “I’ll be right back!”

She was back before I could put the macaroons on the counter, bursting through the front door with an oversized purse. “Upstairs, darlin’. Now.”

After drying my hair and rolling it into huge rollers, she pulled out a massive case of makeup. “Lie on your bed,” she said.

“What?”

“Just do it. It’ll relax your face and get rid of that little crinkle between your brows.”

“I have a crinkle between my brows?”

“Not for long. Lie down, sweetheart.” I lay on the bed and she tucked a pillow under my neck to keep my head from crushing the rollers. She scooted my desk chair over and sat down. “Now, close your eyes, relax, and no talking.” I closed my eyes, and for the next twenty minutes I felt all kinds of textures on my skin. Sponges, brushes, pencils, Vivian’s fingertips. “Okay,” she finally said, “now for the hair.”

I sat on my desk chair, and Vivian took out the rollers. As she twisted my hair and pinned it loosely at the nape of my neck, I tried to do the same with my emotions. I mentally coiled and twined, pinned and tucked my feelings for Thomas. It was the only way I’d be able to keep myself from unraveling when I saw him with Trisha on the dance floor.

With my hair and makeup finished, Vivian went out and I slipped into the dress, zipped up the back, and
turned to look in the full-length mirror. I gasped at the sight of myself. Vivian had done an amazing job, but it wasn’t just that.

I didn’t have a lot of vivid memories of Mom, but seeing her in this dress was one of them. And looking at my reflection, with my perfect makeup and my hair all done up, was like looking at her.

My hand came to my mouth and I inhaled deeply through my nose to stifle the emotion rising in my chest. Now more than ever, I missed her. An acute, piercing pain stabbed at my heart, and I wrapped my arms around myself, wishing she were the one filling the dress, not me. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I blinked them back, not wanting to mess up my makeup. Suddenly I wasn’t sure it was such a good idea to wear her dress. My feelings for Thomas had me feeling fragile enough. Did I really need to add another thing to be emotional about?

I backed up to the desk chair and sunk into it. “Mom,” I whispered, still trying to hold back tears, “I wish you were here.”

A car honking jarred me from my reverie, and when I looked out the window, I saw a shiny black Mustang parked in front of the house. I glanced at the clock—twenty to six. Was Dirk here already? Vivian burst into my room with offense written all over her face. “There had better be a rabid heifer in your driveway, because if it’s your date—”

“Unless heifers drive Mustangs, it is my date,” I said, slipping on my strappy ivory heels.

“Oh, no you don’t,” she said, waving her finger at me. “You’re not going anywhere until he comes to the door and knocks like a gentleman.” She sat me down on the bed and held my hand. “By the way,” she said, eyeing my dress,
“you’re gonna knock every boy at that dance off their feet, including Thomas.”

Honk. Honk.

“Somebody needs to go smack that boy upside the head.”

“I should just go down. It’s not like I’m ever going to go out with him again.”

Honnnnnnnnnnnkkkkkk. Honk.

“Thanks, Vivian,” I said, giving her a hug, “for everything.”

We walked out of the house together, and she watched me walk to Dirk’s car. I pulled on the door handle, and it was locked.

I tapped on the window, and he reached over and unlocked the door. A draft of cologne assaulted me as I swung open the door, and I breathed in one last breath of fresh air before ducking into the car. I waved at Vivian, who was glowering at Dirk like he’d just insulted her banana-caramel pie.

“Sorry I didn’t come to the door,” he said. “We’re running late for dinner.”

“Where are we going?”

“Pikes, of course. But my dad wanted us to get there before the evening rush. It’s Friday night, you know.”

“We’re eating at work?”

“I told my Dad to save us the back booth. Is that okay?”

I shrugged. “Nothing tastes better than a free dinner.”

After he pulled onto the highway, he eyed me up and down and whistled. “By the way, you look smokin’.”

“Um, thanks.” I wrapped my arms around my waist and wished I’d brought a sweater. “So, weren’t we supposed to double with Thomas and Trisha?”

“Huh? Said who?” He snorted. “Like I would double with my ex.”

“Oh. I guess I misunderstood.”

We stopped at Pikes Pancake House, and as Dirk promised, we ushered ourselves to the back booth. Dirk had the Mountain Man Skillet, and I picked at a chicken salad. I tried to be somewhat attentive, but all I could think about was Thomas. Where had he taken Trisha for dinner? Had he really nixed his no-dating policy for her? I attempted repeatedly to distract myself through conversation with Dirk, but it was difficult when his eyes never left my dress, and all his responses sounded something like, “Is that lace?” as if he’d never seen lace before.

We arrived at homecoming just as things were getting busy on the dance floor. As we stepped into the gymnasium, a pool of pulsating music and spinning color immersed us. A rainbow of lights twirled on a canopy of streamers draped from the ceiling like a circus tent, and the energy in the room thumped through my body with the beat of the music. Couples crowded the dance floor, an array of tulle and chiffon skirts swaying, curls piled on top of heads, skin shimmering with spray-on glitter—as though the sparkle from their rhinestone jewelry wasn’t enough.

My eyes squinted into the dizzying display of lights and fog and swept the room for Thomas. I finally found him, sitting beside Trisha on a row of chairs lining the wall. They were engaged in conversation. He sat leaning over, elbows resting on knees, but his head was turned toward Trisha. All I noticed about Trisha was her legs. If she was wearing a skirt, I couldn’t see it. Her legs were crossed, bare from her silver stilettos all the way to the sparkly fabric bunched in her lap. When she started tracing shapes on his back with her finger, I had to look away. That one fleeting glance at them was all it took to loosen the emotions I thought
I’d bound up so tightly. Trying to steady myself, I tucked them back into place as I followed Dirk to the dance floor.

“Sweet! I love this song!” Dirk yelled as he turned to face me. I stood there in frozen awkwardness as Dirk broke into a bouncing, jerking rhythm. I knew I should dance, but I couldn’t seem to bring myself to do it. Dancing was for celebrating, and what did I have to celebrate? Thomas was being pawed by a half-naked girl, and I was on the dance floor with a wild hyena who was happily convulsing one second and heatedly staring at me with hungry eyes the next.

Soon a circle of clapping, bouncing kids had formed around Dirk, and I extricated myself to the outskirts of the crowd. Oblivious to my absence, Dirk just kept dancing, basking in the spotlight as he jerked and twisted, his face like an excited chimpanzee.

Watching him made me dizzy, so I went to the refreshment table to get some punch, wondering why I’d even bothered coming. As I sipped from my icy cup, someone stepped up beside me. I looked up to see Thomas, stunningly handsome in a tuxedo. My heart palpitated wildly at the sight of him, and I squared my shoulders, trying to appear unaffected. His dark hair framed his adorable face, and it was styled just right, like he’d taken the time to position each gelled lock in the perfect place.

“Aria,” he said softly. “You look . . . amazing.”

My cheeks warmed and I managed a little smile. “Same to you.”

His lips parted as if he was going to say more, but then he turned away to grab a couple of empty cups.

I wanted to turn away, to feign interest in the dance floor, but I couldn’t peel my eyes from him. I watched him
fill the cups, ignoring the fact that he was filling one for Trisha. When they were full, he came back to my side, and his sweet, earthy scent made my knees weak.

“Looks like there’s only room on the dance floor for one,” he said with an annoyed tone.

Dirk was surrounded by a crowd, still having a one-man dance-off. “I hope he doesn’t mind dancing alone,” I said, “because I don’t think I can keep up.” Feeling Thomas’s eyes on me, I glanced up at him, quick enough to see his expression change from a troubled frown to thoughtful smile.

“Where’s Trisha?” I asked.

He nodded to the gym doors. “In the bathroom. She won’t admit it, but she’s not feeling very well. I’ve been trying to convince her to let me take her home, but she insists on staying.” Just then, Trisha appeared in the doorway. Her gaze homed in on us, and she loped toward us as quickly as her stilettos would allow.

It took all my effort to stay composed as she approached us. Her dress was look-at-me fuchsia, and the sequin-speckled skirt was so short I was almost embarrassed for her. As she came closer, I saw what Thomas meant about her not feeling well. Her eyes were bloodshot, her nose red and swollen, and even her thick makeup couldn’t hide her skin’s clammy sheen.

She sidled up to Thomas, wedging herself between us and looping her arm through his. He stiffened a little as he handed her a drink. Her glittered eyelids looked heavy as she took a sip and gazed up at him, and I wondered how much cold medicine she’d taken before the dance.

As the song ended and a slower one began, Dirk appeared at the punch bowl, all out of breath and face gleaming with
sweat. He chugged two cups of punch, then hopped to my side. “That was awesome,” he said with a huge grin. “Did you see me?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I think everyone saw you.”

Trisha blew her nose into a wadded-up tissue, then tugged on Thomas’s arm until he followed her to the dance floor. Jealousy gnawed at me as she clasped her hands behind his neck, and once again I felt myself unraveling.

Dirk muttered something I didn’t understand, and when I looked at him, he was staring at Trisha, raw envy in his eyes. “I’ll make her sorry,” he said, seeming to forget I was standing beside him. “Come on, let’s dance.” He grabbed my wrist and pulled me back to the dance floor, dramatically twirling me, then pulling me close. He’d taken off his tuxedo jacket, and his shirt was moist with sweat. I inched my body away from his until I was at a more comfortable distance. He looked past me as we swayed, and from the hard set of his jaw and the anger in his eyes, I knew he was watching Trisha.

“Doesn’t Trisha look weird?” he asked.

“I think she has a cold.”

“She looks kinda like a zombie or something.” He let out a little laugh. “That would explain how she so heartlessly dumped me.”

As we rotated, Thomas and Trisha came into view. She had her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, clutching her fat tissue wad in one hand. She rested her head on his chest, her halo of blonde curls drowning his chin. But with the greenish circles under her eyes and the monstrous cold sore above her lip, I had to admit she did look slightly zombie-like. Only, instead of a stiff body, hers seemed limp in his arms, like he was holding her up. And the back of her
dress was cut so low, the only place for Thomas to put his hands was on her bare skin.

My stomach recoiled against the image of them together, and my breaths turned shallow. Dirk must have thought I was reacting to him, because he pulled me closer and slid his hand lower on my back.

Thomas caught and held my gaze. His expression was restless, and a worried crease pinched his brows. Trisha demanded his attention and he dipped his head to hear her better. She raised her lips to his ear and whispered something. I looked away.

Things sped back up on the dance floor, and Thomas and Trisha made their way to the exit. Just before disappearing through the streamer-covered doorway, he turned and waved at me, mouthing something I couldn’t decipher.

I suddenly felt weak, and I found a chair and sunk into it. Dirk recommenced his gyrating dance-floor extravaganza, and I gripped the seat of the chair, trying to ground myself. The blaring dance music assaulted my frail emotions, pulsing under my skin and saturating my ears. Dirk found me and tried to pull me to my feet. I stayed planted on the chair, shaking my head in objection. “I don’t feel well.”

“Maybe you have what Trisha has,” he shouted over the music.

I nodded, wishing I had what Trisha had.

We were one of the last couples to leave the dance, and Dirk chattered the entire way home about what a hit he was on the dance floor, speculating about which photos would end up in the yearbook. As we finally pulled into my driveway, I reached for the door handle, but he stopped me by seizing my knee.

“Wait,” he said. “Are your parents home?”

His assumption that I still had two parents made me realize how much he didn’t know about me. “Yeah,” I lied. “I’d better go in.”