Am I Pretty Yet?

Chapter Thirteen

"Oh... my God."

"It's that bad, huh?" I asked, turning my gaze to the ground. I wasn't sure how many other dresses I could try on only to reach a horrible verdict after each one.

"No, you look -"

"Beautiful," a different voice jumped in.

My entire body collapsed. Not on the outside, not in a way where I found myself on the floor with my cheek against the carpet. It was more of an internal sinking, as if an anchor had been chained to my ankle and was dragging me down.

"Dad."

He was right there, standing before me. He had gotten a haircut, and his choice in attire had changed since the last time I'd seen him. There had been some improvement: a button up shirt paired with black pants.

"What are you doing here?"

Richel looked back and forth between us, her eyebrows rising by the second. I couldn't blame her. I knew our similarities were striking and noticeable. I was my father's daughter. I could hear the Triple Ninas in the mirrors running away fast, her footsteps pounding against shards of glass as she made her escape. Unfortunately I couldn't jump into an alternate mirrored universe and join them. I had to stand right here, in front of a person I had been trying my hardest to avoid and not think about at every waking second, despite the fact that his DNA was a part of my own.

"I'm here with Helena and Christina," he said. I forgot how raspy his voice sounded when he talked, how soft he said each syllable of every word that he spoke. "How are you?"

How dare you ask me that, I wanted to say, but Richel was right there. I didn't want to drag her into the mess that was my family, or what little fragments and pieces that were left of it. So instead, I swallowed the large lump that had grown in the pit of my throat and sucked in a breath.

"Good."

Even a passerby could tell that my answer was too abrupt and cold to mean that this was a catch-up-on-the-old-days type of conversation. Not that this mattered; I had purposely meant for my answer to sound clipped. He didn't deserve anything from me, not a smile or even a fake happy answer.

He leaned back uneasily on the heels of his feet, quickly picking up on my guarded stance. Richel took a step closer beside me and placed a reassuring hand beneath my elbow. She smiled at him, showing all her teeth.

"Richel DeAngelis," she stated, shaking his hand with, from what I could see, a firm grip. Her fingers wrapped tightly around his fist, and his eyebrows rose in amusement. I panicked for a second, worried that she would forget that I had meant to keep the pageant low key and tell him what our agenda for today was, but she proved to be smarter by saying nothing further.

"Nice to meet you, Richel," he said, stuffing the hand that she shook back into his pocket.

He was still nervous about meeting new people. This part of him hadn't changed. I felt the lump coming back in my throat and forced myself to find a spot behind his head that I could focus on to keep myself from bursting at the seams.

As if to test my already high running emotions, none other than Christina and little Helena came waltzing over to us holding two dresses. They were chattering and Helena was giggling, her curly hair bouncing along her shoulders and down her back. I caught a shimmer on Christina's ring finger and felt pure hatred pulsing through my veins. My blood was boiling at the sight of them with him.

How could they easily accept him knowing he had another family that he'd abandoned? How could a person be so forgiving? Christina's smile faded away when her eyes fell on me and then my father, who was merely standing and staring at me. I could tell he was still taking in the sight of me, considering the fact that it had been awhile since the last time we'd seen each other. We both weren't prepared for this awkward store run in.