Chapter 38
Emma
“Purple, same as last time?” Sinclair asks as Tori slips through the heavy curtains into my changing room with another floor-length evening dress.
“Shut up,” she yells, then lowers her voice to ask me, “Does this color clash with my hair?” She holds the fabric up to her long, coppery locks, and I immediately shake my head.
“I love it,” I declare. “Definitely try that one.”
“I will. Could you . . . ?”
I nod and unzip the dress she’s wearing.
“Em?” I hear Henry’s voice from outside. The short green dress I’m in looks hideous, so I just stick my head through the curtains. “Blue?” he asks, holding out a long dress in a dark Oxford blue. “I think it would match my suit. Or would that look silly? I could . . .”
“No.” I grab the dress. “I’ll try it on. Thanks.”
“God, he’s taking this so seriously,” murmurs Tori as I pull the curtains properly closed again. “Unlike a certain head teacher’s son.”
“Do you two know we can hear you?”
“Shut it and get me a dress as stunning as this one,” says Tori, holding Henry’s dress up to me experimentally. Her lips form a silent “Wow!”
“I don’t even know what you’re looking for,” yells Sinclair.
“Just think, What would Harry Styles wear? and you’ll be right every time.”
I hear Henry’s quiet laugh and Sinclair muttering something as he heads back out among the rails. Tori and I slip into our dresses. She doesn’t seem particularly satisfied with her choice, but when I glance into the mirror, she puts both thumbs up.
“Show them,” she whispers, giving me a shove out through the curtains.
I almost stumble over the length of it, and stop outside the changing room where I can see myself in the mirror.
And oh, it really is pretty. It fits perfectly, and the color makes my eyes bluer.
I twist to one side slightly. Sometimes you don’t know what you’re looking for until you’ve found it.
This dress is the one. I can’t remember ever having worn anything so elegant.
Henry’s sitting in one of the armchairs beside the mirror and looks up from his phone. He opens his mouth but says nothing. His dark-green eyes wander from my face to my body and back again.
“He’s speechless but would like to inform you that he finds you extremely hot.”
I laugh. “Thanks, Sinclair.”
Henry has stood up. He wipes his hands on his trousers as he comes closer. “Does it feel good?” he asks.
“Pretty good.” I turn toward the mirror. “Very good, actually.” It’s a clingy fabric, and you can see everything through it, but I don’t feel uncomfortable.
“Looks pretty good too,” he mumbles, then walks around behind me.
I see our reflections, and in this moment, it hits me.
Henry in this dark polo-neck jumper and tight-fitting beige chinos, his long legs.
His hands on my waist. We’re buying a dress for the New Year Ball in the middle of January, and we’re going to it with our friends.
This is actually real. Edinburgh, Dunbridge Academy.
This is my life now, and I wouldn’t swap it for my old one for anything in the world.
“How about brown, Tori?”
“That’s not brown, that’s sand.” I watch in the mirror as she takes another dress from Sinclair. “But yeah, not bad.”
A smile twitches at Henry’s lips as he watches them.
His brown curls are falling into his face—they’ve got rather long, and I hope he doesn’t get a haircut over Christmas.
The holidays begin next week, and we’re going to be apart for a while.
I’ll be in Frankfurt and Henry will be with Theo and their parents and grandparents in Cheshire.
I’m going to visit them there before term starts again.
The thought of meeting his family makes me nervous, but I’m really looking forward to it too.
“I have to get this one,” I decide, tugging at the dress slightly.
Henry seems a little absentminded as he studies me. “You definitely have to get that one.” He runs his hands over my hips and his eyes meet mine in the mirror. I want to kiss him.
“Bloody zip.” Tori’s voice comes through the curtain.
“Want any help undressing?” Sinclair asks.
“Ha-ha, very funny, now piss off.”
I laugh, look apologetically at Henry, and flit back to join her in the changing room.