CHAPTER forty-three #8
"Whoa, wait—how'd you get that?" I ask, pointing.
She twists awkwardly, trying to look over her shoulder. "What?"
"It's a bruise,"
"Really?" She turns halfway toward the mirror, but it's useless.
"Yeah." I get up and guide her closer to the mirror. "Here, turn around."
She does, and I gently lift her blouse higher, exposing more of the mark. "It's pretty big."
Sam cranes her neck, catching sight of it in the reflection. "Shit. That's ugly."
"Where'd you get it from?"
"I dunno." She laughs, brushing it off. "Probably bumped into something. You know how clumsy I am." Then, with a little smirk, she adds, "Guess I can't wear a two-piece anytime soon. Tragic."
I shake my head, half amused, half concerned. "Seriously, you should put ice on that."
"Eh, it'll fade. They always do," she says, waving me off as she grabs her towel. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm hitting the shower before I melt."
She disappears into the bathroom, humming.
I shake my head with a small smile.
Typical Sam—probably could trip over air and still laugh about it. Honestly, the girl should live in bubble wrap at this point.
An hour or so later, I step out of the bathroom—fresh, hair blow-dried, skin still warm from the shower.
My outfit's already laid out on the bed: a black mini dress with a sweetheart neckline and button-down front, paired with a cropped blush-pink cardigan that makes the whole thing look soft and flirty instead of try-hard.
Cute enough for a date... or, you know, for a solo dinner if Zach doesn't show up.
Always good to have a Plan B.
Sam's perched at her desk, laptop open, earbuds in—typing away like the world's most dedicated student. I sit on the edge of my bed, rubbing lotion over my arms and legs, when my phone starts ringing.
My heart leaps. Finally. Zach.
Except... nope. The screen flashes Lucy.
Bummer.
I hit speaker while still massaging moisturizer into my skin. "Yeah, Lu?"
Her voice comes out fast, urgent. "Care, where are you? Are you still on campus?"
"Yeah, why?"
"Sorry, Care, I know you and Zach have a date tonight, but—"
"Lu, what is it? Is something wrong?" My stomach drops instantly.
"Professor Callahan just messaged. We have to get ready—like now. The sponsors are coming in tonight, and they're requesting a mini showcase."
"What?! Like tonight? As in right now?"
"Yeah."
"Why didn't I get the message?"
"I'm not sure. Maybe Callahan got sidetracked and forgot to text you. But we need you to meet us at the gymnasium in ten—apparently, that's where they're setting up the showcase."
"Huh? Why there and not the rehearsal hall?"
"No clue. Callahan said the sponsors wanted a bigger space, something more formal. Can you come? You'll need to get into your Sugarplum dress. We're doing the climax scene—you know the fight scene with the Mouse King and the final ballet bit."
"But we haven't fixed the Sugarplum dress yet. The bodice's still a little loose, remember?"
"Yeah, but don't worry—you won't need that one tonight. We'll grab something else that fits. It's just a preview; the sponsors just wanna see our progress."
"Okay, okay, I'm coming."
We hang up, and I immediately jump to my feet, scanning the explosion of clothes on my bed.
From behind me, Sam looks up from her laptop, frowning at the chaos. "Everything okay, Care?"
"No," I say quickly, yanking open my dresser. "We have to do a surprise performance for the sponsors tonight."
"Oh... shit."
"Yeah, I know!"
She blinks, then adds, "Wait—what about your date with Zach?"
I freeze.
Shit. Shit. Right. The date.
I turn to her, conflicted, my stomach twisting itself into knots. I want to go.
God, I've been waiting for this first date with Zach practically my whole life—back when I used to plan it all in my head like a deranged lovesick fool. The outfit, the restaurant, the way he'd finally hold my hand—yeah, I'd imagined it so many times it almost felt real.
I'd basically storyboarded the whole thing years before it was even remotely possible.
And now that it finally is supposed to be, the universe just had to throw in a plot twist.
Sure, he hasn't texted much lately—but what if he shows up? What if he knocks on my door and I'm not here? He might think I bailed on him. Again.
But this showcase... it's important too. Really important.
And Callahan and the sponsors are not the type you keep waiting.
I let out a long sigh and grab my bag. "I'll just text him later," I mumble. "If he comes, just tell him I can't make it tonight. Whatever. He didn't even bother texting me anyway."
Sam watches me, brows furrowed, as I shove my feet into my sneakers and rush toward the door.
"Care—"
But I'm already halfway out, heart pounding, torn somewhere between guilt, frustration, and the smallest, stupidest flicker of hope that he'll still text before I go onstage.
*****
The locker room smells faintly of hairspray and fabric starch, the usual chaos of rehearsals replaced by a strange kind of focused panic. Costume racks line the wall, pink tulle and glittery bodices spilling everywhere like cotton candy exploded.
Lucy's crouched by my side, helping me step into the layers of the Sugarplum Princess gown while Tammie fluffs out the skirt like it's a life-or-death mission.
Katie's standing over me with a makeup brush clenched between her teeth and a compact in her hand, squinting like she's painting the Mona Lisa.
"Can you not move for, like, three seconds?" Katie scolds, tapping blush onto my cheekbones.
"I'm literally trying to breathe," I mumble, holding my arms out so Lucy can zip the back of my corset. "Pretty sure this thing's cutting off my circulation."
"Beauty is pain," Tammie says, tugging on the ribbons to secure the bodice tighter. "And in your case, maybe mild suffocation."
I laugh, but my eyes drift toward the mirror—toward the glittering reflection staring back at me. It still feels surreal.
"Wait," I say suddenly, glancing around the empty room. "Where is everyone? Why am I the only one in here?"
"Adam and the guys are in the men's locker room," Lucy answers, adjusting one of the crystal pins in my hair. "They're probably halfway into their uniforms by now. Everyone else's already setting up backstage in the gym—lighting, props, sound, you name it."
Katie hums in agreement, dabbing a final bit of shimmer on my eyelids. "Yeah, it's about to start soon. The sponsors are on their way, and Callahan's losing her mind out there."
"Of course she is," I mutter, pressing a hand over my chest to steady the fluttering underneath. My heart feels like it's trying to escape.
"Nervous?" Tammie teases, arching a brow as she hands me the tiara that goes with the costume.
I let out a shaky laugh. "Yeah, a little. This was all... kind of sudden. I thought the sponsors weren't coming until next week."
"Apparently, they changed plans," Lucy says, stepping back to admire her work. "Callahan said she didn't expect them to come so soon too."
Katie grins, twirling the makeup brush like a wand.
"Well, good thing our star Clara-slash-Sugarplum looks drop-dead gorgeous."
"More like drop-dead terrified," I say, but my voice wobbles with a smile.
Tammie gives my skirt a final fluff and steps back. "You'll do great, Care. You always do."
Lucy nods, smiling as she adjusts the ribbon on my sleeve. "Yeah, seriously. You and Adam have this down. Just breathe, okay?"
Katie caps her lip gloss and sets it aside. "You've worked hard for this. Go out there and show them what you can do."
Their words make something warm bloom in my chest. I manage a small smile and nod, even as nerves twist in my stomach.
"Thanks, guys," I say quietly. "I'll try."
Tammie pats my shoulder. "Okay, stay put for a sec, yeah? We're just gonna check in with the boys—make sure they're actually ready and not goofing off again."
Katie nods, already heading for the door. "We'll come back for you once everything's set, then you can head to the backstage with us."
"Wait—" I start, the word slipping out before I can stop it. I hate being left alone right now; my nerves are about to stage a full mutiny.
But they're already halfway out the door.
Lucy lingers for a moment, glancing at her phone as it buzzes. "Callahan just texted. She needs me for something. I'll be right back, okay?" She flashes a reassuring smile before hurrying out after the others.
The door shuts behind them, and suddenly the room feels way too quiet.
I let out a long breath, then take another—slow, deliberate. In through the nose, out through the mouth. The kind of breathing you do before stepping on stage, when your heart's trying to sprint but you need it to dance instead.
"Okay, Care," I murmur to my reflection. "You've got this."
When I finally lift my gaze, I almost don't recognize the girl staring back.
The layers of pink tulle catch the light, making me shimmer like something out of a snow globe. My fingers skim over the bodice, tracing the tiny beads and ribbons. It looks so much like the one my mom had custom-made for me few years ago.
This might be the other dress I tried on the other day—the one that immediately caught my eye. Up close, it's even prettier.
There's something almost enchanted about it, as if it's been waiting all this time for the right night... for me to finally step into it.
My long silver hair cascades down my back in soft curls, the tiny tiara nestled perfectly in place. I giggle quietly; I actually look like a princess.
I gently rub my fingers over the heart-shaped locket resting against my collarbone, its cool metal warming under my touch. A smile tugs at my lips as a memory flickers—the night Zach gave it to me, the same night he asked me to prom.
Back then, that tiny moment felt like magic.
And right now, it almost does again.
I glance at my phone to see if Zach replied to my text—still no new messages. The last text from him stares back at me like a cruel joke.
See you later.
My shoulders sag.