PRECIPICE [h.s.]

Chapter Forty Seven

IGNORE THE RED GLOVES JUST LOOK AT THE DRESS

♡♡♡

Can I ask you a question?

Did you ever have someone kiss you in a crowded room

And every single one of your friends was making fun of you

But 15 seconds later they were clapping too?

Then what did you do?

♡♡♡

Alice's POV

December 31st 1997

Breathe in. Breathe Out. I remind myself over and over again. There is no reason to be nervous. The scary stuff is over. Between Harry and I, we were able to address and stamp over 100 invitations and get them out by the morning of the 27th. Augustine must have been lining this up and inviting people before she even told Harry because Christmas to New Years was a tight turn around.

And now it's New Year's Eve. Most of my friends are out partying, getting drunk like the last semester of high school doesn't matter. They have a point. I'm just jealous I can't join them. I invited a few of my friends and classmates tonight, if not only to show them that Harry was real.

I've been ditching them more and more lately to spend time with him, but I don't feel bad. There is only so much drama and gossip I can listen to. I'm not saying I don't love gossip, I do. My father has instilled in me that information is power. A woman's way of getting information is a lot more fun. And you can't convince me that what men talk about while golfing, smoking cigars, or whatever hyper-masculine-phallic-holding activity they choose, isn't gossip.

But the high school stuff irks me because it's not going to matter in a few months. I want to scream, you won't remember me in six months! Maybe I should enjoy the last bit of childhood I have left, hold on tight with everything I have. But then I spend time with Harry. And seeing how my future is drastically different from my friends makes me want to sprint away from the present.

I run my hands down my dress again. The blue velvet hugs my body in a way that makes me feel more like a woman than my private school uniform ever could. If only this was the image Harry had of me.

Speaking of, the doorbell goes off multiple times like someone is leaning on it. I open my mouth to yell, "ONE MOMENT," but then remember where I am. No yelling in the Van Baker residence. Unless you're my father yelling at my mother for being drunk...again.

Instead, I grab my heels in my hands, pick up my purse and scurry down the spiral staircase to open the door.

Harry stands in front of me looking more handsome than normal. He's a man of natural beauty, but on a night like tonight, the extra effort is noted and appreciated.