Page 45 of Stealing for Keeps
We go back up to my room where she packs up all her painting supplies, and I tidy up my desk. Once her backpack is zipped and she lifts it to one shoulder, she looks at me.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.” My heartbeat accelerates.
“What did Vaughn say to you about me?”
I open my mouth to answer but stop myself.
“It’s okay if you don’t want to answer. I suppose it doesn’t matter anyway.” She looks a little sad, which has guilt washing over me.
“He’s my teammate, and he cares about you.”
“You don’t owe me an explanation. We’re just friends, right?”
“Right.”
She hesitates, and then her lips curve up into a smile that seems fake as hell. “I gotta go. See you tomorrow.”
“Yeah,” I say as I watch her go. “See you tomorrow.”
Chapter Fourteen
Claire
“I wish I didn’t still have this stupid boot.” I stare at myself in the floor-length mirror.
“No one is going to be looking at your foot.” Lacey’s brows rise as she gives me a once-over in my lilac dress. “You look amazing. That color is great on you.”
“Thanks.” I turn side to side, admiring the flowy skirt. The bodice is fitted, and the straps hang off my shoulders.
Tonight is the first school dance of the year. The seniors throw it every September as sort of a final hurrah to the beginning of the year. It’s fun and well attended and a good excuse to dress up.
“Boone is having another party after the dance.” Lacey smooths a hand down her silver dress. It’s short and sparkly and looks like it was made for her.
“I heard, but I don’t think I can go. Ruby has a dance competition tomorrow.”
“So?” My best friend faces me. “Why do you have to sit through hours of torture on a Saturday morning? It’s not like you’re the one competing.”
I know her words aren’t meant to hurt, but they still do. I don’t know if it will ever stop hurting.
“I don’t know. I think I’m providing moral support and an extra pair of hands in case someone needs a headpiece sewn in at the last minute or something.”
“You have attended enough of Ruby’s competitions since you hurt your ankle. Your moral support should be covered for a good twenty years. And you’re shit at sewing.”
A rough laugh escapes from my lips. She isn’t wrong. I went to rehearsals and competitions all summer for Ruby. Mostly I just sat through the hours and hours of other dancers to get to Ruby’s two minutes of stage time. I don’t mind being there for her. She sat through plenty of my skate practices and competitions too.
“Go ask your mom.” Lacey puts her hands together in front of her chest. “Please?”
“Okay. I’ll ask, but don’t get your hopes up.”
My mom is in her bedroom at the end of the hall. The TV is on and plays quietly as she sits on the bed with a needle and thread, sewing sequins on a red top.
“Mom,” I say, knocking lightly on her open door.
She glances up, blinks several times, and then smiles. “You look pretty.” Before the compliment can even land, she adds, “You should wear your hair down though.”
My hand flies up to the side Dutch braid Lacey did for me. “It’ll just get all messed up at the dance.”
