“Can I come in?” Mom asks, not waiting for our response before opening my bedroom door. She wells up, dabbing thecorners of her eyes with a handkerchief. “You both look beautiful. You’re going to have the most magical evening,”
Mia beams. “Thanks, Mrs. Acacia.”
“When is your car arriving?” Mom asks, checking her watch. “It’s almost seven.”
“Any minute,” Mia replies brightly, followed by an impeccably timed ring of the doorbell.
“Time to go, girls!” Mom claps excitedly like a giddy teenager. “Your dates are here!”
“Nate and I are just friends, remember?” I murmur, before she gets too carried away.
“Of course you are,” she says, dancing down the staircase.
“No, really, we are,” I insist. “Mom?—”
“Gentlemen!” She throws open the door to greet them. “Come inside.”
Nate and Oliver wear identical black tuxedos with bow ties, both clutching onto boxes containing a corsage. It’s a school tradition that all girls wear them.
“Wow.” Nate’s jaw drops when he sees me. “You look great.”
“Thanks.” I smile shyly, a warm blush creeping over my cheeks.
Tonight, I’m going to be a ordinary teenager. I’ll do something normal, without strange men crawling out of vents, rat skulls on my pillow, or threats.
Nate passes me the box. “This is for you.”
Inside, peonies and blush roses are crafted into a beautiful arrangement. Mia has a similar one from Oliver in rich reds.
“We need a picture,” Mom declares, whipping out a camera that I hadn’t noticed earlier. “Gather together, everyone.”
Dad appears out of nowhere. He brings the gloomy aura of the Grim Reaper, sapping all joy from the air.
Dad sniffs, looking the guys up and down in blatant disapproval. “Good evening.”
“It’s good to see you again, sir,” Nate replies.
Dad’s lip curls into a polite yet ‘I don’t like you’ grin. “Likewise.”
“We should go,” I say, reaching for the door handle. “We don’t want to be late.”
“One picture,” Mom begs. “This is your senior year Harvest Ball. It’s tradition.”
We awkwardly group together. I stand between Nate and Mia. Nate wraps his arm around me to rest his hand on my hip in a friendly pose. Dad’s eyes crackle with fury as the camera flash fills the room.
“There!” Mom declares. “Perfect.”
“Now, we really have to go,” I say. “The driver’s waiting.”
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t,” Dad calls.
Everyone laughs, but there’s a warning behind his words.
A white stretch limousine waits outside. Like a true gentleman, Nate opens the door for me, bowing his head slightly, and I slip inside. Glittering blue lights reflect off the white seats, and champagne is already waiting on ice. We may be underage, but being rich will buy you anything.
“Let’s get this party started!” Oliver says, popping the cork and holding out the bottle. “Drink?”
Mia grabs a flute. “Fill me up!”
