Page 5 of Between Now and Forever

I run suddenly sweaty palms down the figure-hugging front of the pink sundress, lament my nearly-flat chest, give thanks for the tiny waist and ballet-honed legs, and practice my “Oh, I come here all the time,” smile.

I’ve taken care to look exactly the way Duke likes his girls. I bought this wig weeks ago. Past attempts to dye my own hair blond have left me with hair so damaged that I’ve had to cut it all off. I smooth down the stick straight, silky locks and check the small combs to make sure it’s attached to my own hair securely.

I shudder at the thought of it slipping off at the party.

There’s no room for error, today. If I mess this up, I won’t get another chance.

I smile at my reflection and extend my hand as if someone is reaching to kiss it.

“Why, thank you. Just a new look I’m trying.” I preen and look up through my lashes in what Ihopeis a coy, but beguiling way.

I sigh and clutch at my chest as my heart flutters like a nectar-drunk bee.

I’m going on a date.The excitement bubbles out of me in a tinkling laugh that I’ve never heard pass my own lips before.

Oh, how I’ve waited for this.

My phone chimes, and I run to my bed to answer it.

It’s a text from Duke.

Heading over.

A grip of nerves tamps down my giddiness.

I’ve got a final hurdle to clear before I can relax. I stuff my sketch pad and pencil case into the little blue leather backpack and take one last look in the mirror.

Then, I go find my brother.

“James?” I call when I step into the huge multipurpose room that takes up most of his second floor.

“In my office,” he shouts back.

I run down the stairs, and jump over the final few in my rush to get down there.

“Hey.” I try to sound cheerful and look nonchalant as I pop my head through the door of his office.

“Hey, your--” His mouth falls and whatever he was going to say is forgotten when he looks up from his work and sees me. Despite a surge of anxiety, I smile and step into his office of book-lined walls and give a mock curtsey.

“Who are you and what’d you do with my sister?” He leans back in his chair, his face pinched in confusion.

I roll my eyes and laugh dismissively, but my guts have turned to goo at his reaction. I thought he’d smile and tell me that I look pretty.

I flick a lock of hair over my shoulder and smile.

“I’m right here, Bean.”

“Uh—yeah, I see.”

I give up my feigned disaffected posture and cross my arms over my chest and glare at him. “You’re looking at me like I just walked in here naked.”

His eyes narrow and he shifts uncomfortably in his chair.

“Uhhh…I just…you’re wearing…pink.” He says it like that’s the same thing as being naked.

My annoyance fizzles when I realize that for me, the way I’m dressed is as revealing as nudity might be for someone else.

This dress – in all its pink glory - is a very public acknowledgement of desires I’ve long denied.

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