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“You’d better,” she said, then hugged me quickly, before getting in her car.

My mother had me pull the dress on shortly after dinner. I hauled it on in the bathroom, thankful that it had a high enough back to hide my Lichtenberg figure-marks. I was what, ten days out from getting hit? They were definitely fading—I pressed a hand against the flare near my shoulder and watched it go from white to red, less bright than it’d been a week ago, before contorting the zipper all the way up.

By the time I came back to the living room, my mother was prepared with needles, scissors, and thread. This was a side of her I’d never seen before, but from the way she pinned and snipped, I felt confident she used to sew. What other things were there about her that I didn’t know, that I might never know, because I couldn’t glean them from her phone?

“It’ll be hard, but it’s not impossible.” She’d clipped the dress to just under my knees and was pinning a hem, while Allie used the extra velvet as a springy trampoline to launch dolls into the air. Without the extra fabric weighing it down, it was almost swingy. Old-fashioned, yes, but wearable. “You’re on your own picking out all those beads. I’d start at the back, where the neckline’s hidden by your hair—and if the velvet underneath looks too ratty, stop and knot it off. We could maybe sew some trim on instead, it’s not like proms are ever well lit.”

I’d been using my time under her inspection to formulate a decent lie—one that I knew was true enough, for other people.

“There’s just one thing, Mom.”

“Hmmm?” she said, mouth full of pins.

“Liam’s just a sophomore, like me. He’s got two junior friends going—he already gave them money for my ticket—but he has to go in with her, and I have to go in with him—and then once we’re on the inside we can hang out together.” It sounded increasingly ludicrous as I said it. “Essentially, we’re crashing prom.”

Please please please please please believe.

She rocked back, holding the pins in her mouth like she held a cigarette and spoke around them. “I figured there’d be some shenanigans involved. Seeing how last minute this was,” she said, gesturing to my dress.

“Honestly, Mom, he may not even like me that much, in that way—Hailey broke up with him, I think he just wants to have fun with a nice friend.”

“Things like that can change, faster than you expect.” She reached out for the dress and shook it some, watching it spin. “You’re gonna be safe, right? And—I can’t be worrying about you all night. I want you to text me a photo of you, home, in bed, holding up three fingers by midnight. I don’t care what parties are going on or anything else—that’s firm. You’re still,” she said, looking up, searching for the right word. “My little girl. For another year or two.”

Here she was being so nice, so perfectly Mom-like, and I was lying. I almost wanted to cry.

“I am the littlest girl,” Allie informed both of us, looking at me unkindly.

My mother reached over, ruffled her hair, and continued her strong run of momness. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I haven’t forgotten.”

CHAPTER 38

Darius picked me up again the next morning without asking. “Good news!” he announced as I slid in.

“What?”

“Mason took the bait. I’m meeting with him tonight.”

“Awesome,” I said, even though the pit of my stomach dropped.

“I even figured out how you could come along.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re going to be my sober driver.”

“Ha ha.”

“I’m serious,” he said. “We’re gonna meet up tonight, smoke some shit, and when his defenses are down you’ll do your thing.”

It was a better plan than what I’d had and it didn’t involve almost kissing any member of the baseball team, so hooray. “Awesome,” I said, with a bit more conviction. “Do you smoke often?”

“No. It cuts into my margin. Plus, if my uncle found out—” Darius shuddered and I had a sudden image of him winding up taxidermied next to the jackalope. “It’s not worth the risk. Getting back to California is more important.”

I nodded like I totally understood, then changed the subject because I didn’t want to think about him leaving yet. “Hey—I have some good news, too.”

“Yeah?”

“I got the dress situation worked out. Miraculously.”