Sisters [book one]

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-One

The cool liquid is smoothed against my cheek and I shiver. "Stop moving," Michele says and I peel one eyelid open. Michele frowns hard as she spreads the foundation across my cheek.

"Sorry," I say, and my eyes flicker to the clock on the wall. Everything's been leading up to tonight. I know that if I make it through the next five or so hours, I'll be okay. This social anxiety: it'll only be a phase and I'll be the girl I used to be - filled with laughter and the sensation of being care-free because everything in my life is where want it to be.

I'll be that girl who listens to Taylor Swift and sings into her hairbrush in front of the mirror. I won't listen to a sad song and want to cry, I'll think of how lucky I am and I'll be so excited about my future that it won't scare me at all. I'll - maybe - have a boyfriend and the rumours of Jake and I will pass. Esmee and I will patch things up and we'll be best friends again. That means everything has to be perfect.

"You look like you're about to faint."

I snap out of my reverie. "I'm fine," I say. "I'm just-"

"Nervous?" Michele guesses. "Prom feels like a big deal. I may not remember what I did or who I went with but you're the most nervous I've ever seen you."

"I'm fine," I say, but the butterflies in my stomach suggest otherwise.

My dress hangs from a coat-hanger on the door of Michele's wardrobe. One shouldered and drops halfway to my knee, it's probably the simplest dresses money can buy. Timeless, sequin-less, neutral, I'm one hundred percent certain no-one in my grade would dare buy it with the awards for Best Dressed and - more importantly - Prom Queen at stake.

"Is Zac definitely coming?" Michele says, for the thousandth time this week. "You haven't had a fight with him or anything?"

"No, nothing like that. I'm just really nervous--"

"You don't have to go if you don't want to."

"I do," I insist. I really do want to go. Going to prom is like going to graduation or doing your SATs. It's what you have to do. If you don't go then - well - you're a nobody. That's why I have to go.

"Anytime you're feeling uncomfortable or something's happened, send me a text and I'll come and get you."

"I don't want to interrupt your plans or anything."

"You won't," Michele says, smiling. "Jennifer's coming over and we're going to watch Chick Flicks and pig out on popcorn, probably reminiscing about our own high school prom except, you know, I won't be reminiscing. It'll probably just be Jennifer telling me what happened."

I break out into a grin, feeling a little jealous.

Michele looks at the clock. "Crap," she says. She shuffles forward on her stool. "We're going to run out of time."

A swarm of locusts enter my stomach. They're so fierce I have to clutch my abdomen because it feels like my insides are being squeezed.

"Are you on your period?" Michele says.

I nod. "Just my luck."

Mom thinks we're going to be late and she interrupts us every five minutes to remind us of the time. While Michele is doing my makeup, I straighten the ends of my hair and paint my nails. Michele zips up the back of my dress when the doorbell rings.

"Haley!" Mom calls up the stairs. "Zac's here!"

"You ready?" Michele says.

"Yes," I say, even though we both know I'm not.