Page 67 of Kissing is the Easy Part
I wrap my arms around her from behind, holding her loosely and inhaling the soft, floral scent of her hair. “Flora, thank you. Thank you.”
She shifts, gazing up from my embrace. “You’ve already thanked me eight billion times for the party. If I could collect a dollar each time you do, we’d have enough money to serve caviar.”
“It’s not just for the party. It’s for you being you, and for being here with me right now.”
She leans her head back on my chest. “Well, in that case, thankyoutoo.”
I rest my chin on top of her head and close my eyes. She lets me hold her for a long time.
There are only a few perfect moments in my life that I wish to remember down to every detail. This is one of them.
Chapter Twenty-three
Flora
On the day of the party, I take Lindsey shopping. I need to get her out of the house and glam her up, so we make a pit stop at my place first, where I layer shimmer and glitter on her eyelids, and then we hit the department stores with the prospect of finding her the best dress “for future events.” A secret weapon sits hidden in my bag: the Swarovski tiara my parents gave me for my fifteenth birthday.
“You never know when you’ll need a party-ready silver dress covered in this many sequins,” I say, holding the glittering garment up to her body. “Please try it on! This is dream material.”
“I can’t think of a single occasion when I’d need this.” Lindsey heads into the changing room.
“I can think of at least five.” I tap my foot outside the door. When she emerges, I pretend to wipe away a fake tear. “You look fabulous!”
Not everyone can pull off sequins. It’s a fine line—too many and it veers into tacky, but with the right cut, fit, and the right person, it illuminates the room. Lindsey adjusts the hem and observes herself in the mirror. “Are you sure I don’t look like a giant disco ball?” She twirls, and the dress catches light from all directions.
“It’s festive, fun, and the hue complements your skin tone. The silhouette is clean, so we won’t overstyle it. No jewelry. Let the dress do the work.” I snap a photo and show it to her. “But the most important thing is whether or not you feel amazing in it.”
She strokes the sequins back and forth, watching the color change. “I love this.” Then she flips the price tag and gasps. “Wait. Maybe not.”
“Allow me, birthday girl.” I pay for the dress (thankfully, she’s not as weird about accepting gifts as Sean is), and we find the perfect strappy heels to go with it. Afterward, we head to a café for snacks. We both put on oversized shades as we take our seats outdoors, and we take eight billion photographs and try out all the Snapchat filters. When the tea and cakes arrive, we pretend we’re influencers and take turns rating the food. I convince her to put the dress on, and we snap another round of photos.
“That was so much fun!” Lindsey says between breathless giggles as we head back, her face flushed. “I had the best birthday of my life!”
She’s so easy to please I wonder why we’re going to the trouble of a surprise party. The glow on her face warms me, and her laugh fills my chest with pride. We get in my car, and I text Sean:the eagle lands in twenty minutes. No reply.
There isn’t a single car in the driveway when we pull up in front of their house. This is fine, but something feels off. The house is completely still. No lights, no movement behind the curtains. No way there’s a hundred people behind that door. Lindsey chats away as she gets out of the car, her glitzy dress sparkling under the streetlamps, and my mind reels with six different ways to kill Sean. Has he completely blown this?
She slides the key into the door and turns the knob.
And then—boom.
Lights flood the room. Music blasts in my ear, and as I squint against the brightness, smiling faces swarm me. Everyone yells “Happy birthday!” The room is an arctic dream, with magical lights and snowflakes twinkling across the ceiling. My head spins. I’m on a merry-go-round ride, and all that surrounds me is glamor.
Lindsey turns to me and her tears fall instantly. A sob lodges in my throat, and I blink away my own tears. This is the most beautiful thing ever. It’s well worth it, every minute, every cent. This moment will be frozen in time, tucked away securely in my memory bank.
She covers her mouth with her hand. “Did you plan this?”
“It was Sean’s idea, but everybody pitched in.” I pull the tiara out of my bag and place it on her head. “Happy fifteen, Lindsey.Nowyou have the best birthday of your life.”
* * *
Once the party is in full swing I slip outside to change in my car, peeling off my clothes to reveal the costume underneath. Cinched into a white satin corset, my featherlight tulle tutu flares in soft layers, barely covering anything. Garter belts clasp my thighs, and pearls drape down my collarbone. I grab a set of fluffy wings from the trunk, strap them on, and head back inside.
Snow flurries swirl across the dance floor, pumped from the machine Ray bought after a pretentious Icelandic film inspired him to shoot a short in his backyard. He dropped it off along with a crate of silver candleholders and crystal vases. He’s not coming, obviously. A dry, miserable, middle-class gathering is beneath him (his words, issued with a shudder).
Sean stands beneath a veil of clear tinsel that glimmers like a frozen waterfall. He’s actually put in the effort to dress for the theme, and wears a dove-gray blazer tailored to his frame paired with a Prussian-blue bowtie.Not bad, Foster.
“Glad to see you went all out with your outfit.” I tilt my chin at him.
