Page 121 of Shattered Stars

“You’re scaring Pip,” I tell her, flipping a page.

“Rhianna!” she snaps, “you’re not taking this seriously.”

I sigh, closing my book and sitting back in my chair. “I’m sorry, Winnie, but I’m finding it really hard to get excited about some snotty event which is going to be full of lots of snooty people who hate my guts. Especially when there are bigger, more important things going on in my life.”

“And there aren’t in mine, I suppose. I suppose you think I’m shallow and stupid for being excited about this.” I look up at my friend and see tears glistening in her eyes.

I jump onto my feet and take a hold of her hands in mine. “Winnie, no. No, I’d never think you were stupid or shallow.” I pull her in for a hug, standing up on my tiptoes to wrap my arms around her shoulders. “You’re one of the most amazing people I know. That I’ve ever met.”

Winnie sniffs. “Then you’ll put away your books and let me style your hair?”

“Yes, and you can do my make up too. You’re a million times better at makeup than I am.”

“And we can wear the dresses Tristan sent,” she says in a very quiet but high-pitched voice.

“Winnie!” I say, releasing her from my embrace.

“I did nearly die helping you escape from those soldiers.”

I glare at her and she smiles sweetly, fluttering her wet eyelashes.

“Urgh! Okay, but you get to blackmail me emotionally with that once and one time only, Winnifred Wence,” I say, stabbing my forefinger at her.

“Promise,” she says, bouncing on her toes and then diving in to give me another hug. She squeezes me tight, then lunges intothe wardrobe and pulls out the clothes bag. The dresses inside are no longer looking as elegant as they did. They’re crushed and creased but Winnie lays them out over our desks and waves her hands, muttering a spell, and I watch as all the crinkles melt away.

“There,” she says, clapping her hands together. “Good as new. Now, which one are you going to choose?”

I bite at my thumbnail. I hate to admit it but I do have a favorite, one I fell in love with as soon as we pulled it from the bag. I know it will look good on me, hugging my body, emphasizing my figure. But I don’t like to admit that Tristan Kennedy knows me that well, knows my size and my body, knows what will suit me and what I might like. It makes the bond in my gut spin and my stomach bubble with nausea.

“I don’t know. You choose first.”

“Rhi, these are your dresses. I know I’m pushing my luck borrowing these as it is.”

“Winnie, you’re welcome to take them all! I’m not even sure I should go.”

“No, I need my best friend with me at this ball.”

“You have Trent,” I remind her. I love Winnie but I suspect I’m going to feel like a spare wheel tonight. Another reason I’m not as hyped as everyone else about this ball.

“Yes, but you’re my best friend. And I’ve never had one like you before, Rhi. I never got to go to parties with my bestie. And now I have one. And it won’t be the same if she isn’t there.”

“Okay, okay,” I say, peering over at Pip who’s watching us intently. He meets my eye, his brows wrinkling. I inhale. Should I pick the one I really like? Is it fucked up? Probably, but I can’t help imagining both Stone and the man in black’s reaction when they see me in it. Because, okay, they look at me with heat and lust and all that stuff, but they’ve never looked wowed, bowled over, or knocked off their feet. I’m usually in my hoodie andjeans, not exactly designed for seduction. It would be nice to feel beautiful for once. Like a Princess and not Cinderella in her rags. “The black one.”

“Totally,” Winnie says, clapping her hands again. “I agree. You will look so good in that one. Try it on, Rhi, and we can work out how to do your hair and makeup.”

I nod, still unsure whether this is a really stupid, stupid idea. It’s too late now, though. There is no way my best friend is going to let me backtrack.

“What one are you going to go for, Winnie?” I ask, dragging my hoodie and t-shirt over my head.

“Would you mind if I picked the green one?”

“No way, I think it would look amazing with your complexion.”

“Thanks, Rhi,” she says. “I know I’m being a pain in the butt here.”

“You’re not,” I say, tugging down my jeans. As usual, it’s cold in this room and I shiver in my panties and bra.

I look at the bodice and then at my underwear. The bodice has a deep V cut into it and clear mesh at the back giving it a backless effect. There’s no way I can wear a bra under this dress.