37. Margo
Chapter 37
Margo
W ednesday afternoon is my first outing.
It’s been a whole boring week of nothing but staying home, trying not to move. Riley and Caleb visit, but they have other obligations. School, for one. I’ve been doing my due diligence on the homework, keeping up with my classmates even while I’m away. It staves off some of the boredom.
Now, I’m free .
Tomorrow I’ll return to school—a daunting idea that I refuse to think about.
Riley and Lenora frame me in as we walk toward the dress shop in the mall. This particular store carries special, one-of-a-kind dresses. Some are unusual, but there are diamonds in the rough.
That’s what Lenora said anyway.
We walk in, and I immediately doubt her. The first six dresses that catch my attention are horrible: bright colors and ruffles, gaping holes in the sides, velvet and shoulder pads.
“Don’t judge,” Lenora admonishes, touching my shoulder. “We’ll find a gem.”
I told them that Caleb had picked out a mask for me, but I didn’t know what sort of dress I wanted. Lenora had swooned at that— literally , she thought it was adorable and charming of him. I’m not sure how he got on her good side so easily.
And Riley… she got a mischievous gleam in her eyes. When I questioned her in the car, she merely shrugged. “I’ve been sworn to secrecy. But I’ll let you know if you’re going in the wrong direction.”
I grit my teeth and go with it.
Dress shopping is weird. We spread out around the store. I run my hands across fabrics I have no right to be touching. Some are soft, some are shimmery.
When I was a kid, at the age where my parents could’ve dressed me in whatever cute outfits they wanted, it was overalls and sneakers. I ran, skinned my knees, played pee-wee baseball with the boys at eight. Minus the time I forced Caleb to play dress-up with me…
I pause in the corner of the room, my hand on my chest. It’s overwhelming. If only my parents could see me now: Shopping to go to a ball with a boy . And not just any boy—Caleb Asher.
“Find anything?” Lenora asks behind me.
I turn around, blinking rapidly.
She must see my expression, something like panic and dread, because her smile drops. She steps closer. “What’s wrong?”
“I just…” I swallow. “I never saw myself doing this.”
She nods. “You didn’t have much opportunity before this?”
“No boys paid attention to me,” I say. “It was like they were all afraid to touch the foster kid.” I tried not to let it bother me. But sometimes, your only friends are the ones you’re in the trenches with.
Riley comes over, oblivious to our conversation. She has a few dresses draped over her arms and a wide smile. “Listen, I grabbed a few for you and some for me because half the fun is trying them… Are you okay?”
I wipe at my face. “Yeah, I’m good.”
Lenora smiles. “Let’s see the dresses!”
Riley holds up the first one. It’s pale blue, tight-fitting past the hips, and then it flares. Silk with lace covering it. It’s pretty but absolutely not my style.
“You could try it on,” Lenora says, nudging me.
“What else did you find?
“This one is my favorite.” Riley doesn’t lift it up, though. She shoves the dark, gray-blue fabric into my arms and propels me toward the dressing room. “Trust me.”
I exhale. “Fine.”
There are no mirrors in this dressing room. I manage to close it and let my hair fall over my shoulders. I take a moment to look down at the dress, the color of thunderclouds.
Here goes nothing.
I step out, and they immediately jump up. Riley bounces, a wide smile splitting her face.
“That good?” I ask.
Lenora steers me to the three-sided mirror, and I’ll admit, even my heart skips.
It’s… perfect.
The top is fitted, with mini glass beads sewn in spirals around the waist. It flares out gracefully and stops at my knees. The neckline is high enough that I feel secure, but the fact that it’s backless is sexy. I spin, giggling, because the dress floats around me.
“Beautiful,” Lenora tells me. “Do you like it?”
I stop and stare at myself in the mirror. I try to imagine what sort of mask Caleb picked to make Riley suggest this dress. But honestly, I don’t know. I couldn’t guess.
I feel beautiful. Maybe with my hair up in a braid…
The tag dangles under my armpit. I glance at the price, and my eyes nearly pop out. Anger floods through me, followed quickly by embarrassment.
There’s no way I could afford this.
“No,” I chirp.
“You… don’t?”
I glare at Riley. “Why would you pick such an expensive dress? I can’t?—”
Lenora comes over and leans down, reading the price.
Tears prick my eyes. If figures—I feel pretty for once in my freaking life, and it’s so far out of my budget it’s not funny. And yeah, maybe I shouldn’t have fallen in love with a few yards of fabric, but…
“I’m buying,” Lenora says in a low voice.
“What?” I whisper. I can barely see.
“I’m buying it. I should’ve said earlier that this was my treat, and I’m sorry for putting you through such distress.” She tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “Wipe those tears, honey. You’re getting the dress.”
I stare at myself in the mirror. Teary eyed, red-faced, but the dress is brilliant.
My mother would’ve swatted me away from this store. We wouldn’t have gone to the mall in the first place. She was a personal chef, but money was always tight. I got new-to-me jeans and shirts at thrift stores. Shoes on clearance. Toys that had been donated.
We lived in one of the wealthiest neighborhoods, yet we struggled to fill our small, retro fridge.
And Lenora tells me she’ll buy a five-hundred-dollar dress that I’ll wear once. She does it without batting an eye.
Riley pulls me back into the changing room. I step out of the dress, still in a state of shock. I blink and blink and can’t think of anything to say.
“This is how they operate,” she whispers. “She’s trying. Money is nothing to them.”
I twitch. “Where does their money even come from? How much could they possibly make on her salary and Robert’s?”
Riley grins. “Clearly, you don’t know your foster parents.”
I raise my eyebrow, but Riley just shoves my clothes at me and slips out the door.
By the time I’m in my clothes, she’s in another changing room. Lenora has my dress bagged and over her arm.
Lenora grins at me, tapping my nose. “I wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
“Thank you,” I murmur. “I really, really appreciate it.”
Riley’s door cracks open, and she slips out.
We both ooh at the same time.
The fabric is slinky, hugging her body like a glove. She’s as thin as the popular girls, even if she hides it most of the time. The black dress has a deep, plunging neckline and widens below her hips.
She does a little shimmy. “What do you think?”
“It’s beautiful.” Lenora winks. “And spicy.”
Riley tosses her hair back. “I think I’ll knock Eli’s socks off.”
He officially asked her while I was home recovering, apparently. And she said yes, amongst a sea of jealous onlookers. It was quite the spectacle. Singing, a marching band, the hockey team surrounding Riley and lifting her in a chair that they carried around the football field.
Still, she tries on two more dresses before she declares herself satisfied with the first. We walk out of the store with our arms linked—the three of us, me at the center. Bags dangle from Lenora’s wrist and Riley’s. There’s a warm feeling in my chest, and it’s easy to ignore the pain in my stomach.
We get pretzels and browse around a few stores. I hesitate picking out jewelry. There are some things of my mom’s I could get. I’m sure they’re in her room in our old house. Going in to get them would probably give me a panic attack, but…
It would be nice to wear her earrings or necklace. Feel closer to her.
Riley holds up a stunning necklace dripping in crystals. “I’m getting this,” she announces. She tries it on, lifting her hair up and turning every which way.
“I love it,” I tell her.
She grins at me.
As we’re leaving the store, someone shouts my name.
A blur shoots past Riley and knocks into me.
Someone latches on to me, their arms around my waist. All the breath is expelled from my lungs. It takes me a few seconds to comprehend that the small person isn’t a stranger—it’s Hanna.
I laugh and wrap my arms around her, rocking back and forth. Screw the searing pain in my stomach. It’s Hanna . My expectation of seeing her again was lower than low.
Claire jogs up, panting.
“Jesus, Hanna,” she admonishes. To me, she says, “She saw you and took off.”
Hanna makes a face, and I brush back her hair. She’s only a few years younger than us, but I babied her more than Claire ever did. Probably because I never had a permanent kid sister, and it felt like we were going to be together for a while.
I remember my manners suddenly and turn to Lenora. “Claire, Hanna, this is my foster mom. Lenora, these are my old foster siblings, Claire and Hanna.”
Lenora’s nostrils flare—or maybe it’s my imagination. She smiles at the girls, reaching out to shake their hands.
Claire stares at her outstretched hand and doesn’t move.
Embarrassment creeps up my neck in the form of a blush. I’ve been telling Lenora and Robert about my foster siblings, how much I missed them, and here Claire is, shoving that all out the window.
Hanna steps forward and takes Lenora’s hand, shaking it up and down enthusiastically. It makes up for the iciness of her sister.
“Can we steal Margo?” Claire glances at Riley, then averts her gaze. “We were hoping to see her this weekend.”
After Lenora bought me a dress, and Riley and I are spending time together? I automatically feel guilty for even thinking that I could break away and go with Claire and Hanna.
I start to turn her down. “Claire?—”
“It’s okay.” Lenora shares a look with Riley.
Riley shrugs.
“You go spend some time with them. I’m going to put our stuff in the car, and we’ll meet you in the food court? In an hour?”
Guilt.
It’s all I feel.
I start to say no again, but Hanna grabs my hand.
“Come see this shirt Claire’s gonna buy me!” she says, hopping from one foot to the other. At my nod, she drags me down the hallway.
Claire, Riley, and I end up in a kids’ clothing store, chasing Hanna around. She excitedly tears clothes off the racks to try on. I glance at Claire, who now smiles openly.
“We get an allowance,” she tells me. “And we’ve been saving up for a shopping spree.”
And my foster mom bought a five-hundred-dollar dress without flinching.
Now I’m the one trying not to flinch.
Claire follows Hanna toward the dressing room, making her come out after each shirt. They end up selecting three, all from the clearance rack, and a pair of jeans.
I try not to let it bother me.
Money, friends, love.
It’s all luck of the draw for us.
“Ice cream?” Hanna asks.
Claire frowns. “We can split a cone.”
Lenora had given me a twenty-dollar bill earlier. I feel it in my pocket and smile. “My treat.”
Hanna screams. It’s high-pitched and intense. Even after she’s stopped, it bangs around my head.
But Claire just chuckles, rubbing Hanna’s head. “She got into this excited squealing in school. All her friends do it.”
“Right.”
My own screams echo in my ears. Not the happy kind.
I shake my head.
We go toward the food court, and Claire grips my arm.
She bites her lip. “Remember how you used to talk about Caleb all the time?”
I blush. I didn’t talk about him all the time. But if we were talking about our pasts, which we did often—trading war stories, as it was—then… yeah, I mentioned him.
She gives me a knowing look, and then she’s right back to watching me with an odd expression. It takes a minute to place the emotion on her face, because she so rarely shows worry or concern. But now both are flashing across her features.
We watch Hanna skip ahead of us, then circle back.
“I didn’t realize…”
I glance at her. “What?”
“I recognized him.”
Her words aren’t computing. “Huh? Who?”
“Caleb. I… I don’t know. I’ll keep trying to remember, but it’s weird. I saw a picture of you and him on Instagram, and he just seems so familiar.”
“There’s a picture on Instagram? Of us?”
She rolls her eyes. “Yeah. Some girls at Lion’s Head are obsessed with the Emery-Rose hockey team. They have a fan page for them because our hockey team apparently isn’t good enough. Anyway, they reposted that photo…”
My mouth drops open. First, that he’d post a picture of us. Second, that he has a fan page . What?
“That’s… weird.”
She shrugs. “He has some pretty rabid fans, if you ask me. Just search his hashtag.”
Caleb has a hashtag?
Hanna slams into me again. I failed to mention my stomach, so maybe it’s my fault that I suddenly can’t breathe. But then Riley is there, gently prying Hanna off. Claire shoots Riley a dirty look but otherwise stays silent.
I take a shaky breath.
Lenora is slower to come up, her brows furrowed with concern. “You okay?”
“Yep.” I straighten.
“We’ve got to get going.” Claire takes Hanna’s hand, tugging her backward a few steps. No hug goodbye for us, then. “I’ll talk to you later.”
They make a beeline for the closest exit. They’re pushing out the door, and it occurs to me that I didn’t get to ask her more.
Hashtags? Rabid fans? Where have you seen Caleb before?
We pile in Lenora’s car. I let Riley take the front seat so I can stare out the window the whole way home. It starts raining halfway there, and I remember to check Instagram. I pull up his profile, biting my lip until it loads.
He posted a photo of us that someone else took a couple of weeks ago. His arm is around my shoulder at that football game, and we’re both… we seem happy. That’s probably the most shocking part. I’m grinning, leaning into him, and his gaze is on me.
His attention is always on me.
I stare at it like it’ll give me the answers I need.
Where has Claire seen you before, Caleb?