“I might,” I answer, thinking. “Otherwise, I could just freak out.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Kit says. “There’s a lot of old clothes upstairs, too.”
“I’d rather not wear an antique.”
“I don’t know, it could make Loretta pretty jealous.”
“Only because she is one.”
Kit laughs, holding me close, and we stay on the dock until the cold wind chases us back inside to the fire.
A few days later, I’m getting ready for the festival, and, as if it was some kind of prophecy, freaking the fuck out.
“Are you alright, dear miss?” Susan asks, knocking on the bathroom door.
“Yeah,” I answer. “I mean—no… I don’t know.”
“Let me in, please.”
I open the door, looking at Susan with panic. “I’ve never had to get ready for anything like this before,” I moan. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”
“There now, settle yourself,” Susan says. “Did you choose a dress?”
I pull out the dark crimson alpaca wool I bought at the fancy shop in town. It has long bell sleeves, a simple neckline, and a tight waist that accentuates my curves without being too revealing.
Susan nods her approval. “It doesn’t match the purple in your hair.”
“I didn’t even think of that!” I shriek.
“Calm, girl,” Susan says with a smile. “I’ll fix it.”
Over the next couple of hours, Susan gives me a full makeover. She dyes my purple streaks a dark, fiery red, gives me a facial, and does my nails. When I get dressed, she does my makeup as well, using light touches to enhance my features.
“Now this,” she says, offering me a dark crimson lipstick.
“I don’t know…” I say. “Isn’t it kind of slutty?”
“Not with that dress,” she says. “It’s a perfect match!”
“What shoes do I wear with this?”
“Oh, your long boots will be fine.”
I stare at her for a few seconds in disbelief. “Myfuck-me boots?”
“Lord on high!” Susan gasps. “What did you say? Those knee-high, shiny black lace-ups are called… uh…”
“Forget I said it!” I say quickly. “I’m just shocked that my siren lipstick and fu—I mean, high boots—are appropriate for the ball.”
“If you think it looks cheap, it most certainly does not, especially with that dress,” Susan says, moving me over to the mirror. When I see myself, my jaw drops. The only way I know for sure that the reflection is actually me is that Susan’s jaw drops, too.
“Oh my God,” I whisper. “I look—”
“Stunning,” Susan says. “But not quite done yet.”
“What did we forget?”
Susan comes up behind me and lifts her hands over my shoulders, settling a ruby pendant around my neck. It’s exquisitely cut in the shape of a flame and set in pale white gold. As I look closer, I see chips of diamond around the edge, making the light catch and flicker.
