Page 40 of The Gallagher Place
Marlowe moved from where she knelt on the bed, and stood in front of Nora, carefully pulling a strand out of the pin, letting it frame her face.
“You’re a genius with hair.” Nora sighed.
Marlowe smiled. She had learned to French braid at seven, and ever since then she had been the expert in the hair department, whereas Nora was hopeless. She only ever managed to pull her straight hair into a ponytail.
Nora hunched over as she slipped her feet into her silver heels.
“You’resurethose won’t make you taller than him?” Marlowe had never been invited to a dance herself, but she was committed to following every rule on this momentous occasion.
“Positive.” Nora tapped her finger on the glossy page of the yearbook, open to Sean Hastings’s freshman picture.
“He’s gotten taller since last year,” Nora added.
They paraded downstairs, where Nora’s parents were waiting for her to make her entrance. Mrs. Miller cooed over her daughter and snapped photos, while Mr. Miller appeared to be feigning indifference. But he broke into a smile when Marlowe and Nora posed as if they were waltzing together.
The women bundled into the Millers’ pickup, and Mrs. Miller dropped Marlowe off at home before driving Nora the rest of the way to the high school.
“Have an amazing time!” Marlowe waved from the front door.
She entered the house and found her brothers playing chess in the living room. “All dressed up with nowhere to go,” Nate teased. Marlowe felt heat rise in her cheeks, remembering that she’d also applied some eyeshadow and rose-colored lipstick to herself when Nora was getting ready.
“Shut up, asshole!” she hissed, running up to her room. Nora was coming back to the Gray House right after the dance for a sleepover, but it seemed impossible to wait three hours to hear about how it all went. Though she wasn’t interested in any of the boys at her own school, Marlowe now felt a mix of hope and terror at the thought that a boy might ask her to the winter formal in December.
By the time the doorbell rang, it was almost eleven, and Marlowe had abandoned the loneliness of her room to watch a movie in the library with her brothers. She bolted up to greet Nora, who was still in her dress and heels. The hair spray hadn’t managed to hold Nora’s slippery locks, and chunks of hair had come loose from her bun. Despite the messy hair, her face was lit with a pretty glow, and she looked slender and fairy-like in the flowing dress.
“It was amazing,” Nora declared as she hugged Marlowe.
“How many times did you fall over in those shoes?” Nate shouted from his chair.
Henry cackled, but Nora waved off the teasing as Glory and Frank rose from the couch.
“Oh, you look beautiful.” Glory lightly touched one of the gold hairpins, and Marlowe realized that she had taken them from her mother’s room without asking. “I hope you took pictures.”
“Stop this!” Frank grabbed Nora’s head in his hands, the same way he embraced Nate after a good soccer game, and then wrapped his arm around Marlowe’s shoulders. He had long since given Nora the same affectionate greetings he used with his own children. “You girls are growing up too fast.”
Marlowe rolled her eyes and dragged Nora upstairs. She demanded a play-by-play of the night as they changed into pajamas and brushed their hair. They analyzed every second in furtive whispers, pausing only when they heard Nate and Henry passing by on their way to the boys’ room.
As soon as there was silence in the hall, Nora picked up where she had left off, her slow dance with Sean.
“He kissed me,” Nora whispered, once they were curled up in bed. “We walked out to the hallway because it was hot in the gym, and then it was quiet, like there was nothing left to say. I felt awkward, but then he kissed me, and it wasn’t awkward anymore.”
“Yourfirstkiss.” Marlowe sighed. “What was it like?”
In answer, Nora grinned and flopped back against her pillows, kicking her feet beneath the covers.
“I don’t think I can sleep,” Nora said. “Not tonight.”
Marlowe sat up, inspired by Nora to take action. She pointed at the clock. It was past midnight.
“Everyone’s asleep,” Marlowe whispered. “Let’s sneak out.”
Nora tumbled off the twin bed and pulled her gray sweatshirt over her tank top and plaid pajama pants. Marlowe slid to the floor, yanked on her sneakers, then quietly opened the window and prized out the screen. It was a short jump to the roof of the front porch, and from there an easy climb down the railing post. At the bottom, they scampered across the damp grass of the front lawn.
The moon was bright and full, a good omen.
“I can see almost as well as during the daytime,” Marlowe gasped.
“It’s magical, like fairies lighting our way,” Nora said.
