Page 72 of One More Made Up Love Song
“Daphne would love it,” I answer. Because it’s true. Hadthisbeen the prom dress she found first, she never would have given it up. And that makes me want to wear it even more.
I close my eyes and think of my sister, and for a split second, a warmth settles across my shoulders, and the anxiety I’ve been battling since this whole try-on-a-thon started calms and settles.
I can practically hear Daphne’s voice in my head.You’re right. I would have worn that dress. Which is why you should wear it now. Wear it for me.
I take a deep breath and open my eyes, then lift my fingers to catch a tear brimming over on one side.
“Are you sure this is okay?” I say to Carina, my voice cracking on the words.
She stands and walks toward me, pulling me into a hug. “Of course it’s okay. You know she would want you to behappy. To live your life and wear the dress and do the things.” She pulls back so she can look me in the eyes but keeps her hands on my shoulders. “Refusing to do those things won’t bring her back. All it does is make your life small.”
I’m not sure she means for me to, but I easily sense the double meaning in Carina’s words. Because being overprotective only makesherlife small. And that’s not what I want for her any more than Daphne would want it for me.
“When did you get so smart?” I ask, and she grins.
“Rude,” she says playfully. “You know I came this way.” She tilts her head toward Freddie. “I think he likes it too.”
I finally look back at Freddie, who is still studying me. His gaze is softer now, the fire from moments before banked and controlled.
“What do you think?” I ask.
He licks his lips. “You look beautiful,” he says. “That’s definitely my favorite.” He stands and moves toward the door. “I think…” He clears his throat. “That is, if we’re done here, I have some…something. To do.”
I furrow my brows, surprised by his sudden departure. Then again, he’s already stayed longer than I thought he would, so I quickly nod. “Okay. Thanks for your help. And thank you for…” I wave my hands to encompass the entire room. “All of this.”
“You deserve it,” he says simply. Then he turns and disappears through the door, shutting it softly behind him.
“I think you flustered the poor man,” Natasha says, kneeling at my feet and messing with the hem of the dress. “Not that I’m surprised. The dress really is perfect. We’ll probably need to have it hemmed for you, but let’s pick your shoes first.”
As soon as I have the right shoes, a pair that is miraculously comfortable despite the four-inch heel, Natasha drops back to the floor in front of me with a pin cushion and adjusts the hem of the skirt. “I can’t tell you how happy I was when Freddie called,” she says. “Almost as happy as I was when I saw the news that you two were finally together. It seemed like it was all anyone was talking about, but it still meant more to hear the news directly from Freddie. And then to have him ask for all this. ‘Spare no cost,’ he told me. ‘Whatever she wants, I want her to have it.’”
My heart climbs into my throat. “He really said that?”
“Is this the part where I get to sayI told you so?” Wren says. “Because I totally saw this coming, andyoutried to tell me it was nothing.”
Natasha laughs. “I think weallsaw this coming.”
“Definitely,” Carina adds, shooting me a pointed look. “Even the fans agree. They literally love you so much. There’s an entire Reddit thread dedicated to stories from fans who had backstage passes or tickets to a meet-and-greet at one of Freddie’s shows, and it’s all about how perfect you are together.”
“What? Are you being serious?”
Carina clears her throat, then holds up her phone and reads from the screen. “They basically finish each other’s sentences. And once, a woman in front of me in line tried to push Ivy out of the way so she could get closer to Freddie, and he immediately activated beast mode, pulling Ivy behind his body and very firmly telling the woman to keep her hands to herself. I knew then they had to be a couple, so this news doesn’t surprise me at all.”
Even though my job has usually included keeping an eyeon Freddie’s online presence, I’ve been almost entirely offline this week, outside of text and email.
Right before we landed on the flight home to Nashville, Kat pulled me aside for a private conversation, one in which she reminded me of all the reasons why I should stay off social media now that I’m also in the spotlight.
“There will be a lot of people who love you simply because they believeheloves you,” she said. “But there will also be people who say horrible things. Those things will not be true, but that won’t stop people from saying them. They will make things up, they will criticize you, they will be unkind and unjust and irredeemably rude.”
“I understand,” I told her, even as I swallowed against the lump forming in my throat. “I’ve seen the same things happen to Freddie over and over again. I know how to ignore it.”
She shook her head. “This isn’t the same thing. It’s different when it’s about you. Please trust me on this. Don’t go online. I have a whole team of social media interns monitoring everything that’s said about either one of you. If anything worrisome comes up, we’ll let you know. In the meantime, your job is to stay off the internet.”
I know Carina wouldn’t share even if shedidhappen across any of the negative stuff, but it does feel good to know that most people seem to be happy for us.
But does their happiness even count if none of this is real?
Natasha and Wren and Carina, and apparently a million of Freddie’s fans, all think they saw this coming, but really enthusiastic cheerleaders can only do so much to help a team win. At the end of the day, Freddie and I are the onlytwo people who matter—and we’ve decided we’re just pretending. That after his album releases, all of this will end.
