Page 37 of The Devils Melody
“Alright,” she says, her voice still light but now laced with that signature Olive excitement. “We areabsolutelygoing out tonight.”
I arch a brow. “I never agreed to that.”
“You didn’t have to.” She flips her hair over her shoulder like she’s in a shampoo commercial. “I’ve made an executive best friend decision. You, me, and the girls. Loud music. Questionable dance moves. And you, my love, in something dangerously short. I’ll even let you wear my slutty boots.”
I groan. “Not the boots.”
“Yes, the boots. They’re magic and you know it. Every time you wear them, a man with mommy issues tries to propose.”
I snort into my drink. “Pretty sure I burned the last dangerously short thing I owned.”
Olive gasps like I just confessed to a felony. “Okay, that’s tragic but also completely unacceptable. We’re going to the mall.”
“What?”
“You heard me. Emergency mall run. We’ll find you something short, tight, and maybe a little morally questionable.”
“Olive…”
“Nope. Don’t ‘Olive’ me. You just told me you were spiraling, got creeped on by your ex, met two hot guys—who you’re still going to tell me about later by the way—and had a nightmare that shook you to your core. So tonight, you’re going to feel hot and alive and powerful.And we’re starting with this delicious, overpriced cold brew and an inappropriate mini dress.”
I bite back a smile, but it sneaks through anyway. “Fine. But if you make me try on anything with rhinestones, I’m leaving you in the dressing room.”
“Bold of you to assume I won’t follow you out in glittery heels and a see through crop top.”
As soon aswe leaveNovel Grounds, Olive is immediately texting the group chat with all the enthusiasm of a woman on a mission. A mission that apparently involves dragging me to a million different stores in the mall and aggressively reminding me that I deserve to feel hot while throwing skimpy dresses at me.
By the time we make it back to my apartment, I’m carrying multiple bags stuffed with things I didn’t need—glittery press on nails, red lace lingerie, and a body spray called Love Spell. Olive thought it was fitting.
Oh, and the black dress. The tiny, strappy one Olive all but tackled me into buying. She said it was ‘slutty in the best possible way,’ and honestly, after everything this week, I didn’t have the energy, or the will, to fight her. Besides, it did make me feel super hot, but I’ll never tell her that. It’ll go straight into her ‘I told you so’ bank.
We shopped, we laughed, we grabbed drive-thru tacos and ate them in her car with the windows down and our feet on the dash like we were teenagers again. And for the first time in days, I’m able to breathe again. Maybe I’m not completely unraveling. Maybe the real Wren is still in here somewhere beneath all the heartbreak and fear, and theversion of me that forgot how to shine. Well, I’m going to shine tonight, and it’s not going to be because of the slutty boots.
Hours later, the apartment looks like a tornado tore through it. Liv couldn’t decide on an outfit so there’s clothes everywhere. Now she’s doing her makeup in the bathroom mirror while sitting in the sink. She’s blasting a playlist called “Bad Decisions & Good Lighting,” while I sit cross-legged on the floor, trying to decide if I should be brave enough to wear the dress.
She turns, one eyebrow arched, eyeliner sharp enough to kill a man.
“Are you seriously hesitating right now? That dress was made for reckless choices and to get free drinks!”
I laugh, but it’s the nervous kind that has me clearing my throat. “It’s practically lingerie.”
“Exactly,” she grins. “Let the men grovel at your feet.”
Eventually, I cave, slipping into the red lingerie and black dress. Adjusting the straps, I try to ignore the feeling of my heart about to beat right out of my chest. But when I look in the mirror, I don’t see the mess of the past week. I see someone standing a little taller. Someone dangerous and alive.
Olive whistles low. “You hot bitch! You’re gonna start a riot tonight!”
We finish getting ready in a blur, waiting for the rest of the group to get here so we can all drive together. Liv wants to Uber but I don't trust those things.
“Come on, Wren. Just let me get the Uber so you can get shit faced, too. The whole point of a girls night out is to get drunk.” Liv gives me the most pitiful looking sad face that almost has me changing my mind.
“No, seriously it’s ok I’ll just driveus. I have to go in early tomorrow for Retta, she’s out sick.” Retta never calls off and she’s done it twice already. There’s no way I'm getting too drunk to be able to show up and that tends to happen when I go out with this group.
“Okay Captain Buzzkill, but you’re at least taking a shot with me.” Liv pulls out her phone and gives it a smirk, “Harper is here with the others, let’s go break some hearts, baby.”
With that, we set out to the car to meet the others. I can’t help but smirk back. It’s hard to stay in a shitty mood when Liv is around. She’s a walking, talking middle finger to sadness.
After all the anxiety while getting ready, I think I’m finally ready to enjoy the night and let go, or at least pretend that I have. I’m not sure what I’m hoping to find out there. Maybe a distraction or a spark of somethingreal.Maybe I need proof that the world hasn’t stopped spinning, even if mine has. Or maybe I just need a fucking drink. Regardless, I have a gut feeling tonight is the turning point. For what? I’m not sure, but I feel something's coming. And for the first time in days, I don’t feel afraid of it.
