Prologue - Paige
My dress is beautiful.
I saw it in a catalogue and Mom ordered it for me, then my Aunt Christa tailored it to fit.
She has five kids, so she’s used to altering prom dresses.
I’ve worn my cousin Bette’s hand-me-downs since I was little, but our sizes are different now and anyway, who wants to wear someone else’s prom dress?
Especially when they made a huge splash in it two years before.
Not me.
And this year is extra special. Because not only am I going to my senior prom wearing a real knock-em-dead dress, but I’m going with the hottest guy in the whole school. The hottest guy in Snowflake Falls, in my opinion.
Callan’s family have always been known as a little wild.
He and his brother Finn just don’t fit in at school, or even in our cozy little town.
Their original family settled in the mountains up around Snowflake over a hundred years ago.
There’s a look in the Connor boys’ eyes that’s not entirely tame and I love that.
I’m not a fan of those preening boys who are always pouting for their Snapchat stories; I’m more of a Wolverine girl than a Justin Bieber fan.
I’ve always been the geeky girl at school; studied hard, kept my head down, focused on getting good grades so I could go to college and study journalism. Not bullied or worshipped, just sort of ignored.
Callan, with his wild reputation and incredible good looks, seemed so far out of my reach, practically unattainable. A satellite I could just glimpse blinking far up in the night sky.
Of course, I had a date lined up for prom.
My best friend Paul and I decided we were each other’s backup, in case nobody else asked us.
Paul told me he thinks he’s gay, but he hasn’t told anyone else yet.
I feel honored that he’d tell me first, but his secret is safe with me.
But then, as I was standing by my locker, Callan suddenly appeared, towering over me, and asked if he could take me.
I’d been crushing on him for years. I’ve always had a thing for Viking-looking guys with russet hair who look like they could pick you up and throw you over one shoulder.
He also has that intense, brooding quality that makes me want to find out what mysteries are buried below the surface.
I’d helped him out a couple of times in the library when I was working there.
He was looking for books about photography and we talked for a while, but I thought he was just being polite.
When he asked me to prom, I could barely speak, but of course I said yes.
He smiled and said he loved reading my story in the school paper.
That rendered me speechless again so I just grinned back, gave him my number and then watched as he strode down the hallway like a Norse god.
And then texted Paul faster than the speed of light to let him know.
And I persuaded my Mom to let me order this dress. I want to look amazing tonight.
In the mirror my reflection almost doesn’t look like me.
I’m a jeans and T-shirt girl normally, and this sophisticated person staring back is someone I don’t recognize.
The dress is a satiny material in a deep red color, and fitted around the bust and waist, before flaring out to the knees with some added tulle to give it a 1950s silhouette.
Bette came over earlier and did my hair in a chignon with some curls pulled loose, elegant but hopefully still sexy.
I’m wearing high heels that make me feel slightly wobbly and I hope I don’t take a tumble down the stairs.
My cell beeps.
Callan’s really late. I’ve been so absorbed in getting ready and trying to look perfect that I didn’t realize how much time had passed. It’s Paul.
About to leave, are you there yet? I’m scared this suit is too much. Maybe the sequins are a bad idea.
I text back.
Sequins are always a good idea! Callan’s not here. What if he’s a no show?
I can see Paul’s typing.
...why don’t you text him?
I text Callan, asking where he is. I stare down at the display as the numbers change every minute. Five minutes, ten minutes, then twenty. I text Paul back despondently when there’s no reply from Callan.
He’s gone AWOL.
I throw my cell on the bed. I felt so happy and excited earlier, and now there’s the twinge of a headache from the hairpins holding my hair up.
These stupid shoes are already hurting my feet so I swap them for a pair of flats.
My cell beeps again. Maybe it’s Callan. Maybe he has car trouble. I pick it up but it’s Paul again.
Want me to come and get you… I’m on my way?
I stare down at the screen. Did Callan just ask me out for a joke? To see if the geeky girl would fall for it? Or has he forgotten? It’s late now. No text, no call. Tears prick behind my eyes as I text Paul back.
Yes. I’m here. Trying not to cry.
This is meant to be the best night of my life and it’s turned into a joke.
Anger bubbles up inside me. How dare he treat me like this?
Leave me waiting at home, wondering where he is.
Maybe he’s with his buddies and he never had any intention of going.
Or maybe he’s on a date with another girl, nowhere near prom.
I grab the cell and text Callan. There’s so many things to say, but I’m not going to let him know how upset I am. I just don’t want him anywhere near me. Even worse would be some kind of made-up explanation. So I take the brutal route.
Don’t talk to me or contact me ever again. I’m blocking you.
I’m just going to have to ignore him if I see him in school. I’ll just act like he doesn’t exist, even if it’s tearing me up inside. My cell beeps and my heart leaps up, despite myself. I haven’t blocked Callan yet. I grab it.
I’m outside. My sequin suit is either gonna make you laugh or cry.
I have to smile. At least I have the best friend in the world. I take a final look in the mirror and grab my purse.
One more thing I have to do. I look down at my cell and block Callan’s number.
Now I just have to get through tonight.