Chapter Fourteen #2
Change is hard, she thought. Grant had said as much after dinner the other night, and he wasn’t wrong.
She and her friends were aggravating lots of people with their changes, but at least they were doing something. Reaching for better things in life. Trying to improve themselves and their circumstances instead of holding on to the devil they knew with talons of fear.
“What do you think?” Kate asked.
Tessa blinked herself back to the moment, only to be blindsided by nostalgia. Nothing inside the store had changed in eighteen years. She was suddenly seventeen in braces again and wondering if she’d ever get out of this town.
Joke’s on you, she thought about her past self. You make it to UVA, and then you come right back. But she was glad about the return, and she liked her adult life in Harbor Heights. Just hang in there, she said to the memory of her teenage self. It gets better. You’ll soon meet these two goofballs.
She smiled at Hallie and Kate, both of whom looked at her as if she’d grown another head.
“Sorry,” Tessa said. “I’m just taking it all in. It looks exactly like it did when I was here for prom.”
Kate tented perfectly sculpted brows. “The South loves its traditions.”
“Welcome to Southern Charm,” a saleswoman said. She wore a white pencil skirt and jacket and approached on black ice-pick heels. Her face was tight and motionless, save her slow-moving, ultrafull lips. “I’m Grace. Is there anything I can help you find today?”
“Yes, thank you,” Kate said, offering her hand. “I’m Kate. This is Hallie and Tessa. We’d like to see your formal gowns. We have a ball to attend, and the theme is fantasy, so the more ethereal the styles, the better. Specifically, we’d like to see options with metallic accents or stitching.”
She turned to Tessa briefly, then cast her gaze to Hallie and back. “My gown is white with silver seams and beadwork at the collar and hem.”
Hallie raised her brow and turned to Tessa, who forced a tight smile. “Like a bridal gown.”
“Like an angel to behold,” Kate corrected. She returned her attention to Grace. “The overall theme is Lewis Carroll. Decor will be based on scenes from Alice in Wonderland, with lots of dreamy garden feels.”
Grace pondered, then nodded. “This way.”
Tessa and Hallie trailed Kate and Grace beneath rows of sparkling chandeliers to a long rectangular room with racks of dresses on one wall, mirrors at the far end, and a series of curtained dressing areas across from the gowns.
Pink velvet armchairs and benches formed a row down the center of the plush carpeting. Hallie plopped onto the nearest seat while Kate made a beeline for the racks.
An icy feeling of dread lanced through Tessa. Was she stressed about dinner with her dad and Devin? Possibly fearing some sort of follow-up trauma at Kate’s event to match the misery of her work gala?
“Hal,” Kate said, gleefully pulling items from a rack. “What color do you prefer?” She raised an ivory satin floor-length number in one hand, an ice-blue cocktail-length style in the other.
Hallie peeled herself off the chair and moved slowly in her direction. “Black isn’t an option?”
“No.”
“Black overlay?”
Kate considered. “Darkest-green or deepest-plum overlay.”
“Done.”
Tessa shoved her uncomfortable feeling aside and refreshed her smile. “Goth is more than fashion. It’s a lifestyle,” she said, quoting Hallie on infinite occasions.
Hallie raised a devil sign with one hand before choosing a fawn-colored slip dress covered loosely in deep-plum lace.
“I miss your extremist college vibe,” Tessa said. “I loved how brave you were, wearing exactly what you wanted everywhere we went.”
“I wasn’t brave, I just didn’t give a f—”
“Y’all,” Kate interrupted, primly. “Remember all the cute headbands you wore? I loved those.”
“The cat ears or devil horns?” Tessa asked.
Hallie gave her most exhausted deadpan stare. “Those weren’t cute. They were badass. And I still dress in goth attire. It’s who I am.”
Tessa shrugged. “Kind of.”
Hallie narrowed her eyes. “Don’t play with me.”
Tessa grinned, letting her know she was teasing.
“Whatever happened to your friend the leather worker with the ear gauges?” Kate asked.
Hallie smiled. “Bram moved to New Orleans, met a design student from Tulane, and married her. Now they have three kids and run a BDSM lingerie boutique called Spanked. Remember? I went to the wedding.” Hallie carried the dress into a curtained room and pulled the material closed behind her.
Kate turned to Tessa and mouthed the word Spanked.
Tessa smiled. She’d completely forgotten about the train wreck of a trip to New Orleans Hallie had taken with Bryce for the wedding.
He’d been a stick-in-the-mud from the minute they arrived at their French Quarter rental and grew increasingly worse when surrounded by a hundred or so goths.
Especially frustrating, because hadn’t Hallie’s general aesthetic been what attracted him to her to start with?
So why did he spend so much time trying to change it?
“Your turn,” Kate said, pulling Tessa back to the moment. “This is my dress.” She turned her phone to face Tessa. “I bought it months ago when the newest trends were predicted. It cost a month’s salary, but I counted on this invite, and I took the leap.”
Tessa stared at the beautiful gown on-screen. “That is gorgeous.”
Kate grinned. “If I get invited next year, I’m having something custom made that accentuates my curves instead of flattens them.” She set her free hand on her chest. “I want to breathe.”
“Reasonable,” Tessa said.
“I’ll wear something flowy and precious, and I won’t care if that’s not on trend. If I’m still a size sixteen, I’ll be content with it, instead of wearing enough shapewear to make me seem a size smaller.”
“Are you doing that this year?” Tessa asked. “You don’t need to do that.” She waited for Kate to meet her eye.
Kate’s expression morphed into a mask of resolve. “This year, I have to make the absolute most of this event. I need to reclaim some followers. That’s the whole point. And the dress requires extreme assistance, so that’s what it will get.”
Tessa fought the urge to say more, then moved on to more neutral ground. “I loved the painting you posted this morning. Is it for sale?”
Kate rolled her eyes, then smiled. “Maybe.”
“Where did you list it?”
“Ratties. It’s a Twilight obsession group on Facebook for sewerposting.”
“I’m so glad you’re still painting. Your work is incredible. The creative gene runs strong in you.”