Page 51 of Every Hidden Truth

I made a face. “I don’t think Ronnie would fit.”

“Because he’s tall?” she joked.

“Either that or I made an unintentional size joke about his dick.” I gagged, and she laughed, the crests of her cheeks darkening with a subtle blush.

“Silas, focus, I called you for a reason.”

“Sorry, sorry. I’m focused. What do you need, Ez?”

She fumbled with her phone before the camera switched from Selfie mode to Front mode. Her face was replaced with a full length mirror, showing her reflection. She wore a strappy purple dress that flowed like water, pooling around her bare feet.

“It doesn’t fit right,” she said.

And sure, she wasn’t wrong. It had been made for a different body type, after all. Extra material hung loose at her flat chest, and the straps stretched over her broader shoulders. Even then, she still looked beautiful.

I told her so, and she scoffed.

“It doesn’t look right, Silas,” she insisted, and I searched for the right words to say.

“Just because it fits differently doesn’t mean it fits wrong,” I said gently. “You look so nice, and Ronnie is gonna freak. He’ll love it.”

Her reflection chewed on her bottom lip. “People will stare.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “But they’re gonna stare at me and Ben too. That’s not gonna stop me from holding his hand or kissing him on the dance floor, though.”

“I shouldn’t care,” she said, returning the camera to Selfie mode. “But sometimes it just sucks.”

“How do you feel in the dress?” I asked, and her eyes shot up and over the phone. “Not how you feel when you look in the mirror. Look at me,” I said firmly, and she obeyed, meeting my eyes through the phone. “Esther Matilda, how do you feel in that dress?”

“My middle name’s not Matilda.”

“Ezzy!”

Her expression softened into something shy and sweet. “Pretty.”

“Then wear it, and fuck everyone else.”

Her husky chuckle eased the tension in my stomach, and she smiled fully at me. “Thanks, Silas.”

“Anytime, sweetie.”

Rolling her eyes, she blinked away the sheen of moisture gathering there. “So what are you wearing?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” I said dramatically.

I copied her and switched camera angles, facing the final contenders. “We have Nerdy Virgin,” I said as I highlighted the first outfit, a white polo shirt under a maroon sweater over khaki slacks. “Or Catholic School Boy.” The second was the only button-up shirt I owned—black—paired with skinny jeans and rainbow suspenders—a gag gift from my brother.

She chuckled at my inventive titles. “They both look nice. The maroon is a good color on you, but I like the rainbow suspenders.”

“Those were mostly there to embarrass Ben. Revenge for making me go to this debacle.”

“I think they’re great.” She smiled as I swapped the camera back to my face. “I vote rainbow suspenders.”

I blew her a kiss. “Girl after my own heart. That’s why we’re kindred spirits.”

“You’re so weird.” Her pleased smile belied her words. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“Okay, see you later.”

---