Page 58 of Best I Never Had

I smile. I hadn’t really considered going alone. Maybe it won’t be so bad. Certainly better than accepting a pity date, like the one from Hayden. Why he thought asking me would beagood idea was beyond me. Even if he’s no longer with Jenny, I’m sure he has girls within his social circle that would be a more appropriate date.

“Maybe that’s not such a bad idea,” I muse. “It won’t?—”

I’m interrupted by a high-pitched squeal. “Jenny! That dress looks amazing on you!”

Yuri steps out of the dressing room, her too-simple black dress draped over her forearm. Her gaze lands on Jenny and Tina behind me with their excited smiles following their equallyexcited squeals as Jenny runs her hand down the length of her dress. The same dress that Yuri just hung back up, along with her dreams of looking like a fairy tale princess. Yuri looks back at me, her brows raised with a small smirk before we step out toward the sales floor.

“Natalia!” Jenny exclaims as she notices me walk by, a hint of annoyance hidden beneath the faux excitement. “Are you guys shopping for prom? Aren’t the dresses here so pretty?” She runs her hand down her sides, gliding her fingers along her hips as she waits for my answer.

“Yeah, they look amazing,” I answer, my eyes landing on the lights reflecting off her gown. “But I’m still sort of looking.”

She nods, her fake smile mirroring Tina’s as the two of them continue to look at Yuri and me with a level of disdain that I’m not too comfortable with.

“You know,” she starts just as I’m about to step away. “I didn’t know you and Hayden were so close.”

I take a quick glance at Yuri, the two of us sharing a confused expression, before looking back at Jenny. “We aren’t,” I say matter-of-factly. “We’re just lab partners.”

“Uh-huh,” she answers, obviously dubious of my explanation. “Hayden’s mentioned you a bit. Said you like to read and stuff.” She says the word “read” an octave higher than the rest of the words in her sentence, as if it should carry the obvious quotation marks around it.

“Uh, yeah,” I answer, incredibly uncomfortable with the direction this conversation has suddenly taken. “I guess I lent him a book once.”

“We should get go—” Yuri says before being interrupted.

“Well, I’m pretty sure we’re going to get back together after prom,” Jenny adds. She swivels her body to face the opposite direction, right into the mirror as she admires her dress. As if she’s grown bored of our conversation and is dismissing me altogether.

“You guys are going to prom together?” I blurt out, too thrown off by this bit of information to refrain from asking, knowing that I probably shouldn’t dip my nose in Hayden or Jenny’s personal business.

“Of course,” she answers with an aggravated scowl, turning around to face me while hovering into my personal space. Her closed fists move to her hips as she scoffs before saying, “Why wouldn’t we?”

“That’s great,” I say, hiding the sudden pang of affliction I didn’t know I would feel confirming the fact that Hayden’s offer to take me to prom was in fact a pity date offer. It makes sense, especially when he obviously has Jenny to go with, no matter their relationship status. “Hayden’s a great guy.”

Jenny’s eyes narrow, her lips pursing together in a firm line. “He is, isn’t he?” she says, turning back to face the mirror again, not really asking to get an answer but more to make a point. Her pressed-together lips part, revealing a sneer of asmile.

I feel Yuri’s hand on my forearm. I face her, her impatient smile rescuing me from Jenny’s scrutiny. “Have fun at prom,” I say to Jenny.

Jenny doesn’t answer. Instead, her narrowed eyes curve into a forged smile before Tina pulls Jenny’s attention toward a shimmering black dress pinched between her fingers. Yuri and Iboth walk away as the sounds of Tina and Jenny prattling on about their prom plans echo in the dressing room.

present

Hayden: We’re on our way. Should be there in about ten.

Shit!

I scramble with the set of bobby pins, parting them with my teeth and scraping them into my scalp to secure the braid wrapped around the crown of my head. The loose curls that tumble down the length of my hair cascade past my shoulders, wisping around the sweetheart neckline of my dress.

Realizing that I didn’t have anything to wear to the wedding, I went shopping on my lunch break the day before, dragging José with me to hunt down the perfect dress. When our eyes landed on a dress colored “dusty green,” according to the salesperson, I knew I found the one. The lace trim lining the bodice and the tulle skirt that ran the length of my legs to my calves made me feel like a princess.

But I spent too much time on my makeup, making sure the blended colors of my eyeshadow didn’t cross the small threshold between intense and underwhelming. So I’m rushing now, spending the next five minutes applying blush and highlighter before doing a once-over and texting Hayden that I’ll be waiting outside.

My shoes are barely on with the straps loosely threaded through the buckles as I carefully walk down the steps leading to the sidewalk. Just as I’m securing my shoes, my body bent at an angle while balancing myself on one foot, I hear the light slamming of a car door. When I look up, I see Hayden walking toward me. His fingers toy with the front lapels of his suit jacket as he pulls the buttons through the buttonholes.

His shaggy hair is freshly cut, the sides down to a near buzz cut and fading upward to a neatly combed bed of dark chestnut waves. His gaze is focused on the ground, so it gives me the smallest of seconds to watch him. How his body, no longer boy but all man, moves with confidence as his long legs lead the way on the hard pavement. How his hands move deliberately across his suit jacket, smoothing out the material and adjusting the creases. When he finally looks up and sees me, his face lights up. I see it in every shift of his expression, from his eyes that change from cautious to eager, to his mouth cracking wide open to expose his perfect teeth and happy smile.

“You clean up pretty nice, Marshall.”

He smirks, extending his hands out in front of him with a light tilt of his head. I giggle, taking his hand when he offers it to me. He brings it above my head and twirls me like a miniature ballerina in a music box, making my dress fan around me.

“I think we both clean up pretty nice, Marquez,” he says in a low voice. “I feel like I should have brought a corsage.”

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