Page 71 of Defiant
She didn’t need to know. It wasn’t like I was proud of being drugged because I’d fallen for Archer’s act or that Ryan and his friends had nearly succeeded in raping me in that locker room. No, I’d keep those secrets to myself.
“She’ll switch the names out,” Bobbi said, shrugging. “The office staff love her, so I doubt she’ll get in trouble. Besides, she wants to see Brittany freak out as much as I do.” She grinned, shooting me a look. “I really can’t wait. That’s why we need to get you the perfect dress. I already got mine—most girls in Midpark get theirs months before, from hand-tailored shops so no one shows up in the same dress.”
I laughed. “If only I could afford that.”
“I figured,” she spoke, brightening up. “Which is why we’re going to the mall. Your dress might not be name brand, but you’ll still knock it out of the park.” Bobbi really didn’t seem to care that I didn’t come from money; I liked her the best out of everyone in Midpark, I think.
Vaughn and Dante aside, of course. I…wasn’t sure what I felt about those two.
I’d have to ask them if they were going to the dance. I’d seen Vaughn in a suit, but Dante? I bet he’d look good. Out of place, but good nonetheless.
When we arrived at the mall—of course, it was in the next town over and not Midpark, because Midpark could not have something as normal as a freaking mall—we headed inside, into one of the department stores, first. It was busy, but not overly so, since it was early on a Saturday, pretty much right after they opened.
Bobbi and I headed to the junior’s section, checking the dresses they had. “Any idea what you want?” she asked me, shooting me a look around the racks. “Long, short, strapless?”
“Uh…” Shit, I didn’t know. I mean, I’d gone to a few dances before, but back at home you could show up in a twenty-dollar clearance rack dress and still get genuine compliments on it. At a Midpark dance? That would never happen. “I don’t know.”
“Color preference?”
“I…don’t know.”
Bobbi chuckled. “Okay, I have the feeling we have a long day ahead of us, then.”
That we did. We went to so many stores, I gagged on countless of price tags, and she made me try on so many dresses, I wanted to scream. The satiny texture, the velvet smoothness of the fabric…I really didn’t care for the ones that were ballgown wannabes. I also didn’t care for any super short ones.
None really called out to me, and every time I tried on a dress that practically vomited color onto the mirror, I wanted to tear it off. No, I guess I wasn’t a fan of blues or reds or any other color. Couldn’t go with white, because that was kind of like a wedding dress, which really only left one color.
Black.
Bobbi and I had to make two rounds through the mall. The first we spent trying on all the wrong dresses, but the second was when we had our blinders on for black dresses.
“I think you’ll look great in a black dress,” Bobbi spoke, pulling dress after dress through the racks. We left no rack unturned, no dress untouched. “With your hair and your eyes…oh, yeah. You’ll kill it. Plus, black is so slimming—”
I leaned around the rack I was at to give her a look.
“Not that you need to be slimmed down,” Bobbi spoke with a chuckle, catching herself. “I’m just saying, in general. Black is the most underrated color, and yet it can go with just about anything.” Her fingers touched the fabric of a sheer black dress, and she gasped as she pulled it off the rack. “This one.”
I left my rack to move beside her, eyeing it up. Looked pretty plain on the hanger, but I knew you couldn’t judge a dress until it was actually on—besides the fluffy ones. Those I could judge without the need to play dress-up with.
I wasn’t too impressed; it was just a simple black dress that looked like its fabric was stretchy. Two thick straps kept the dress on the hanger. It looked to end just above the knees. Short, but not too short.
“I’ll try it on,” I said, “but no promises.”
Bobbi followed me to the dressing room, waiting just outside in the hall as I unzipped my boots and kicked them off. Next off were my pants, and then my hoodie and shirt. I carefully took the black dress off the hanger, checking the price tag before sliding it on over my head—no zipper on this one.
And, surprisingly, the price wasn’t that outrageous. I’d still have money left over.
I tugged the dress down, adjusting the straps on my shoulders as I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I turned my body, getting a good view of my back and my ass in the dress. This thing might look unimpressive on the hanger, but when it was on me, it was fucking amazing.
I looked like a damned supermodel, no joke.
My mouth could formulate no words, and I busted out of the dressing room, meeting Bobbi in the hall to show her. I watched as her mouth dropped, and I even did a little spin.
“That,” she said, “that is the one. You wear black like no one else.”
Well, I didn’t know about that, but…
“That’s the one you’re getting.”
