"Pin." I held my hand out and Kimber dropped a straight pin into my palm. I weaved the pin into the fabric, attaching the sleeve to the torso that made up the shirt.
The past two days had been non-stop sewing—alternating between fashion show items and my contest entry for Victoria. Keeping busy was my only option, otherwise I'd allow myself to focus on the fact that my idiot boyfriend had been ignoring me since Thanksgiving.
My feelings about it were conflicted. On one hand I understood the running away, after all I practically invented the tactic. But him shutting me out hurt. Did he not trust me enough to talk to me? Were we not as close as I thought? It sucked being on the other side of it.
"She's making that face again." Jem's comment pulled me back to reality.
Kimber and Jem stopped by to check on me when I neglected to text them back about the grand finale of the show. That's when we were going to reveal the new and improved cheer uniform.
"What face?" I questioned, my gaze shifting between the two of them. They were laid out on my bed, staring up at me.
Kimber hummed as she thought about her response, playing with her earring that looked like it was made with one of the pieces from the game Sorry. Jem wore a matching pair. "It's kind of angry."
"But also kind of sad," Jem added, looking up from the latest issue of Beauteen.
That summed up my emotions perfectly.
"I'm just concentrating on this," I said, motioning to the mannequin.
"No," Kimber disagreed. "I've seen your concentration face and that's not it.
"What's really going on?" Jem asked.
My first instinct was to brush it off and change the subject, the usual. But they knew Miles better than I did, maybe they could help.
"Okay, so, on Thanksgiving, Miles and I went to Cameron's for dinner," I told them, sinking into my desk chair. "And his parents were there."
Their faces scrunched up in unison as they grimaced.
"So, his dad is always like that?"
"It started after Rose passed," Jem said, frowning. "Miles kind of went the rails. Fighting, smoking, screwing any girl willing."
Kimber shoved her sister, nearly knocking her off the bed. "Seriously?" she hissed.
Oddly I wasn't bothered by that. It was the past and he was going through the lost of his sister. He acted out. I knew he wasn't like that anymore. Besides, everyone had a few skeletons in the closet.
"But he got his act together sophomore year," Kimber said. "He only hit people on the football field and started showing up to class regularly."
Those sounded like positive things and didn't explain why his dad was such an ass. Maybe that was a question only Miles could answer. If he'd ever reply to my texts.
"Do you know where he'd go if he was upset?"
The two of them fell silent as they thought about this.
"Cameron's?" Kimber guessed with a shrug.
I doubted that he'd be there. "If not?"
"Oh!" Jem exclaimed. "The lake."
Kimber nodded. "Yeah, the lake. That's where he went whenever he ditched class."
It was worth a shot. "Where is this lake?"
+ + +
My navigational skills were put to the test as I tried to locate this elusive lake. The sun had started to set, not that it was much of a difference. The sky had been filled with dark grey clouds all day.
All of those wrong turns and dead ends were worth it when I had finally made it to the lake.
I spotted a lone figure at the end of the dock wearing a familiar looking beanie on his head. His back was turned to me and no matter how many times I shouted his name he didn't turn around. As I got closer I could hear the muffled sound of music. No wonder he couldn't hear me, his music was too loud.
He jumped when I sat down next time, clearly lost in his own little world.
"What are you doing here?" he asked after removing his earbuds.
"You know," I said, leaning back onto my palms, "that was the second time you invited me somewhere and then left me alone."
He let out a heavy sigh, looking down at the murky water. "I feel really bad about that," he said, keeping his eyes on the water. "That's why I sent the text. Then I felt like a dick for sending such a lame ass apology. So, I decided to ignore you completely until I came up with something better," he laughed halfheartedly, rubbing his hands on his jeans. "Maybe my dad had a point calling me a moron."
On the drive there, I had this angry speech all prepared and ready. He had left me alone in a house full of strangers and couldn't even answer my phone calls. I wanted to be mad at him.
But, being there, looking into his broken face, I couldn't bring myself to add to that. I just wanted to fix it.
"Don't say that," I said, sliding my hand over his. "I don't know what your dad's problem is—"
"You want to know what his problem is?" He asked, turning himself towards me. "I'm alive and his daughter isn't."
His words were blunt and took me by surprise. The hurt in his eyes made my heart clench.
"Whatever," he exhaled, pulling the beanie off and running a hand through his hair. "That doesn't matter. I shouldn't have left you there."
I felt like he was closing up again, pushing me away. It had been a while since I'd gotten close to anyone—since I wanted to be close to anyone. Each step closer to him terrified me, but I didn't stop.
"You can talk to me," I said, giving his hand a small squeeze. "Someone once told me that I was a good listener. Almost too good."
He offered up a small laugh. "I just don't want to send you running."
"I don't think I'm allowed to do that anymore, being your official girlfriend and all," I told him. "I've been out of practice a while, but I think communication is still a huge factor in relationships."
"You're right," he chuckled, glancing over at me. "No more running. Unless it's to each other."
"Deal."
He smiled again, no hint of the broken boy that was there just moments earlier. When he started to lean in, a lustful look in his eyes, I placed my hand on his chest to stop him.
"I'm still mad at you," I said.
The smile disappeared from his face, replaced with a goofy looking frown.
"That dinner was almost an hour long," I told him, shuddering at the memory. "Who takes that long to eat a piece of turkey?"
"I'm sorry," he said, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and pulling me into him. Then he placed a kiss on my forehead, whispering another apology.
+ + +
"What's that for?"
Mom had snuck up behind me as I was draping the red, sequined fabric over the mannequin. How long had she been standing there?
"My piece for the contest," I replied. "What do you think?"
Mom stepped further into my room, eyeing the dress.
After days of planning I had finally come up with a decent design. It was a strapless dress, the bodice was two toned with red sequins on the left and black and white stripes on the right and the skirt was high-low, made of black tulle. It seemed simple, but I felt with the right styling it could be worthy of...whatever it was Victoria and Shanelle had planned.
"It's gorgeous," she said, smiling that proud mama smile of hers. "You really out did yourself on this one."
"Thanks," I said, smiling back. "I just hope Victoria feels the same."
Mom wrapped me in a warm hug, the smell of her chocolate and sea salt body scrub filling my nose. "Oh, baby, I'm sure she'll love it," she told me. "You and your design will be featured in Beauteen and suddenly Beyoncé will be begging you to design her dress for the Grammys."
I snorted a laugh as she grabbed a stuffed bear from my dresser, holding it like an award.
"I'd like to thank God for blessing me with my gift," she said, doing her best Beyoncé impression. "And Loren Reed for blessing me with this dress."
"No shout out to her husband or children?"
"Nope."
I laughed again at how silly she was being. Designing dresses for the stars wasn't high on my goals list. I was taking baby steps and the only win I wanted at the moment was to just win Victoria's contest. Having my clothes feature in Beauteen had been a long time dream of mine.
The chime of the doorbell broke through my thoughts, bringing me back to reality.
Mom glanced at the clock on my night stand. "Who could that be at 9pm?"
I shrugged, just as stumped as she was. The two of us waltzed down the stairs in our pajamas, hair twisted and tucked under satin bonnets. We looked a hot mess, but we didn't care.
Mom opened the door to a tall, blond man in a tuxedo, a small black masquerade mask covering his eyes.
"Good evening," he greeted. "I'm looking for a Miss Loren Reed."
Mom glanced back at me then stepped aside to let me through.
"That's me..."
He said nothing as he handed me a black box with a gold design on the top. It was heavier than I expected and I resisted the urge to shake it.
"Miss Vivian Hernandez has requested your attendance for her masquerade ball." Of course this was Vivian. That girl really went all out. The guy proceeded to tell me the date and venue before he returned to the sleek, black town car he arrived in.
"That was fancy," Mom said once we closed the door. "What's in the box?"
"Let's see," I sang, walking into the kitchen and setting the box on the island. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't excited. Who didn't love to open presents?
When I slid the top off the first thing I saw was a print of Vivian in her gold dress, looking regal as she sat on a throne, a lineup of gorgeous guys on either side of her. Everything else in the box followed the black and gold them and included chocolates, bubbles, a scented candle and other small party favors.
In light of everything that's been going on I had forgotten about her party. However, if this invitation is any indication, this party would probably be forever etched into my memory.