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Prom Date Page 14


  You’re my friend, can’t you see?

  I might be slow but hope you know

  Just how much you mean to me.

  Oh Cassidy, oh Cassidy,

  You really are the girl for me.

  I need to know, please don’t say no,

  Tell me you will go with me.

  Then Lane flipped his guitar over to show that he’d taped the word PROM? on the back of his guitar. He looked hopefully at her and she leaped to her feet and hugged him. “Yes!” she declared. “I’d be glad to.”

  Everyone clapped and cheered. Lane grinned happily and, thanks to popular demand, he played her song again. After he was finished with his promposal, Cassidy walked with him to the music department, to return the guitar he’d borrowed for her song.

  “So I heard that you thought I was never going to ask you,” Lane said as he put the guitar back into the case.

  “Where’d you hear that?”

  “Bryn told me.” He snapped it closed, then slid it onto a shelf.

  “She did?” Cassidy was confused. Here she’d been imagining Bryn was out to steal Lane away from her—and now this? “What did Bryn say to you?”

  “Just that you were planning to go to prom with a bunch of goofy girls and if I wanted to take you, I’d better step up.” He gave her a sheepish smile. “I’d been working on that song and wanted to get it down better before I actually sang it.”

  “I thought you sang it brilliantly,” she told him.

  “Thanks. I’ve been working on it for the past week, but I didn’t really think I could pull it off.” He laughed. “But I am glad it’s over with.”

  So Bryn had been the boot on his behind, getting him to perform his promposal even though he hadn’t felt ready. Who knew?

  Cassidy happily told her parents about Lane’s promposal that night. She even showed them the video that Isaac had sent to her after school. As a result, Mom was over the moon to do some prom gown shopping. And even though Cassidy wasn’t much of a shopper, she agreed.

  On Saturday morning, Cassidy explained about Abby’s Prom Budget Challenge, and Dad was so impressed with the idea that he increased Cassidy’s prom budget.

  “So if you shop frugally, like you planned, you should be left with a tidy little sum to contribute to the little Ruez girl,” Dad said as he doled out some more cash. “I really like the way you and your friends are handling your prom. Very generous . . . and mature.”

  On the way to town, Cassidy was wishing that they could wrap up the gown shopping as quickly as possible. “I’m fine with renting a gown again,” she told her mom. “The one I had for the Christmas ball was pretty cool. And I can use those same shoes too.”

  “Are you saying you want to go straight to Formal Rental Wear?” Mom’s voice sounded disappointed.

  “Well, not exactly.” Cassidy looked down at the list she’d gotten from Abby’s website. “There’s Angelica’s Closet—they sell both new and used gowns.”

  “I heard that Macy’s is having a one-day sale,” Mom said. “Plus I have a coupon for an additional 20 percent off.”

  “But Macy’s? Wouldn’t that still be a lot more expensive?” Cassidy replied.

  “Oh, I don’t know.” Mom chuckled. “Besides, what if I chipped in a little extra money?”

  Cassidy wasn’t sure about this. She had actually liked the idea of being frugally dressed.

  “And there’s always Dress 4 Less,” Mom reminded her. “I noticed they had a pretty big formal wear rack in the back. Want to start there?”

  Cassidy could tell that Mom wanted to make this a big shopping day. And as much as Cassidy wanted to go straight for the rental place, she agreed to start at Dress 4 Less. But it didn’t take long before they realized the gowns there were pretty picked over and there wasn’t much to choose from in Cassidy’s size.

  So next they went to Angelica’s Closet. It was a cute shop and had a pretty good selection of gently used gowns, as well as some really great accessories. But after a fairly long hunt and even trying on a few things, nothing really seemed quite right. And the prices weren’t as low as Cassidy had hoped they’d be. Most of the dresses she liked were around a hundred dollars, and the designer ones were even more.

  “Formal Rental Wear, here we come,” Cassidy said as they got back in the car. By now she’d decided that she really wanted a dress in midnight blue. Unfortunately, FRW didn’t have many dresses in that color that were Cass’s size.

  “Maybe you need to be open to other colors.” Mom held up a magenta gown that was in a style similar to what Cassidy had been looking for.

  “Not that color.” Cassidy just shook her head.

  “How about black?” Mom held up another. “This one practically screams red carpet. Don’t you think?”

  Cassidy took that dress as well as several others in black and carried them back to the fitting room. But with each one she tried on, she began to feel more dejected. Mom was trying to be positive, suggesting that dresses could be taken in or let out or whatever. But Cassidy was just not seeing it.

  “Why is this so hard?” she asked her mom.

  Mom gave her a sympathetic smile. “I don’t know, honey. I think you’ve looked gorgeous in a lot of the gowns.”

  “Maybe I should just settle for this one.” Cassidy turned around in the black sleeveless gown.

  “But you don’t really like it, do you?”

  “It’s okay.” Cassidy held the skirt out with a dismal smile.

  “Take it off,” Mom commanded. “Get dressed. I’m taking you to Macy’s.”

  “Oh, Mom.” Cassidy frowned. She was tired of shopping, tired of trying things on, and tired of prom dresses.

  “Come on,” Mom urged. “Just trust me, okay?”

  Cassidy shrugged. “Okay.”

  Mom was obviously in her element at the big department store. She led Cassidy straight to where the racks of formal dresses were hanging and went into search mode. Meanwhile, Cassidy just watched, trying to feign interest as her mom perused the designer rack.

  “How about this?” Mom held up a midnight-blue dress. “These rhinestones around the neckline would make it so you don’t need much jewelry. And you can borrow a pair of my cubic zirconium earrings. The dangly ones would probably look nice on you.”

  Cassidy studied the shirred bodice and full skirt. “It’d be good for dancing.”

  “It’s your size,” Mom said enticingly.

  “Do you think it will fit?”

  “Only one way to find out.” Mom started to guide Cassidy toward the fitting room.

  To Cassidy’s amazement, not only did it fit perfectly, it looked gorgeous. However, when she checked the price tag, she felt deflated. “It’s too expensive,” she called over the door. “It’s $210, Mom. Way too much.”

  “Come out and show me the dress,” Mom commanded.

  Cassidy stepped out and Mom made an approving nod then reached for the price tag. “You read the regular price, Cass. All the designer formals are 40 percent off today. And then I get to use my 20 percent off coupon too.”

  Cassidy was doing the math in her head. “Hey, that’s around a hundred dollars.”

  “That’s right. Not that much more than a rental. And about the same as the nicer used gowns.”

  As Cassidy admired the dark color and soft, flowing fabric, she considered this. “Even less than some of the gowns.”

  “So what do you think?”

  Cassidy spun around, making the skirt flow out. “I like it . . . but I feel kinda guilty.”

  “Guilty?” Mom frowned.

  “Because it’s a new dress . . . and Sofia . . .”

  “But you can use your shoes from the Christmas ball and you don’t need any accessories. That leaves a nice chunk of change to donate to Abby’s fund for Sofia.”

  “That’s true.”

  “Oh, Cass, you look so pretty.” Mom smiled. “And you’ve never been the kind of girl to splurge on fashion. Go ahead and do this, sweetie.�
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  “Really?” Cassidy still felt unsure.

  “Well, unless you want to keep shopping.” Mom’s eyes twinkled. “I suppose we could make a whole day of—”

  “No, thanks.” Cassidy shook her head.

  “So is this the one?” Mom asked hopefully.

  “I think so.”

  Mom chuckled as Cassidy returned to the changing room. “Not to say I told you so, honey, but if I’d had my way, we would’ve come here first and we’d have been done with our shopping hours ago.”

  Cassidy laughed as she removed the elegant gown. She really should’ve listened to her mom. Maybe the old saying was true—maybe mothers really did know best.

  18

  Bryn didn’t know why she’d let her mom talk her into this stupid vacation during spring break. Oh sure, a girl getaway had sounded fun at first. But after a few days with Mom, Aunt Kristy, Aunt Lisa, and Grandma, Bryn was ready to go AWOL—not to mention totally nuts. Never mind that her two aunts fought almost constantly, or that her grandma seemed determined to fatten everyone up with all the high-calorie snacks she was constantly pushing at them, but the location of the “beach condo” was not exactly desirable. Besides feeling like a retirement home (the condo belonged to one of Grandma’s elderly friends) the nearest shopping area was a forty-minute drive and, to Bryn’s dismay, no one seemed very interested in going.

  “Heading to the pool?” Mom asked as Bryn grabbed her beach bag and a bottle of water.

  “I think I’ll check out the beach.”

  “I’m sorry this hasn’t been what you’d hoped,” Mom said with a grimace.

  “It’s okay.” Bryn forced a smile. “At least I can work on my tan today. That’s something.”

  Mom patted Bryn’s bare shoulder. “The weather hasn’t been exactly accommodating, has it?”

  “Not exactly.” Bryn pushed open the sliding door. “But it’s not your fault, Mom.”

  “Well, just a few more days, huh?”

  Bryn just nodded. As she walked through the pool area, she tried to imagine how much more fun this week would’ve been if her DG friends had been here. She remembered how Devon had suggested they do some kind of spring break getaway. Maybe next year. At first Bryn had been pleased to hear that she and Mom were going to the beach condo. She’d even played it up when she’d told her friends.

  But the truth was, as the week had progressed, she’d felt more and more envious of the other girls. From what she was hearing, they were all back home having a good time and busily preparing for prom. It sounded like Emma and her decorations committee were making great progress this week. Abby was monitoring her PBC blog and racking up lots of donations for the Sofia fund. And Devon had been successful at getting contributions from some of the local businesses. Bryn had also heard how Cass had gone dress shopping with her mom several days ago and managed to bag a totally cool dress at Macy’s—and for around a hundred bucks. That in itself was encouraging since Bryn halfway expected all the DG girls to show up at prom wearing ill-fitting and sadly worn-out used gowns. At least Cass and Bryn would look good.

  Of course, Bryn realized that without a date for prom, she was destined to go with the girls’ group that Cassidy had been helping to set up. Yes, it was a letdown. Not to mention lame. But Bryn had decided she would be a good sport and try to make the best of it. Because as of last Friday, it seemed that all the good guys were taken. It had been overwhelming to witness the promposals going off all over the school that day. The guys, it seemed, had been dropping like flies. But none of them dropped in front of Bryn.

  “It’s because pretty girls are intimidating,” Devon had reassured Bryn on Friday. “Guys are afraid of rejection. That’s why you should do what I did. Just swallow your pride and ask a guy yourself. No big deal.”

  Bryn had acted as if that was beneath her, but the truth was her confidence had been completely shot by then, and she honestly couldn’t think of a guy to ask. She’d actually been relieved to run off with her mom on Saturday, although that had worn off pretty quickly. And that was seven long days ago.

  Bryn sighed as she kicked off her sandals and walked on the warm sand. So far she had endured too many long days of watching the aunts consume too many margaritas and bicker like middle-school girls. Too many days of playing too many rummy games and working jigsaw puzzles while it rained and stormed outside. Five long evenings of watching too many chick flicks and eating too many of the fattening meals her grandma insisted on fixing. Bryn wondered if her prom gown would even fit her when she got home. Would there be time to have it altered again?

  It felt like adding insult to injury to know that Abby, Emma, and Devon were going dress shopping together today. Bryn would give anything to be with them, but the best she could do was to keep her phone on and close at hand. She’d begged Abby to send photos of their final selections. “Not so I can approve your gowns,” she’d assured Abby last night. “Just so I can see them.” Then she’d confessed to her best friend that she was feeling pretty bummed this week. “This beach trip has been kinda disappointing.” As she described the nasty weather and her crazy aunts, Abby had burst out laughing. “That does sound pretty sad.” But at least she’d promised to send the photos.

  Bryn laid out her towel on the sand and sat down. Really, she should be enjoying this. Today, although a bit breezy, was sunny. And the beach, which only had a few other sunbathers on it, was clean and pretty. But when her phone chimed, she completely forgot about her surroundings.

  The first photo she saw was of Abby wearing a surprisingly pretty gown. Although it was sleeveless and cut in at the shoulders, the neckline was high, but because of Abby’s long, slender neck, it looked really nice. And Bryn knew that Abby’s rather conservative dad wouldn’t have a problem with it. Plus that vibrant shade of coral looked stunning against Abby’s dark skin tone.

  Perfect, Bryn texted back. Love it!

  Label says Badgley Mischka, Abby texted back. Who?

  Bryn blinked in surprise then texted back. A hot designer. How much? Bryn knew a Mischka gown like that could not be cheap. What had happened to Abby’s frugal plan?

  $50.

  Huh? Bryn texted back. Was that a typo? A Badgley Mischka couldn’t possibly be that cheap.

  Rental gown, Abby texted back.

  Okay, that explained it. Not for the first time, Bryn wondered if perhaps she’d been all wrong about this whole rental-gown biz. Maybe it was silly—not to mention wasteful—to lay out that much money for a dress she’d only wear once. Especially when you don’t even have a date! Bryn’s cheeks grew warm as she considered this. And it wasn’t from the sun.

  After a bit, Abby sent the next photo. This one was of Emma in a frumpy-looking pale-blue gown. It was so bad that Bryn had to call, demanding to speak to Emma.

  “Okay, first of all, I’m not saying this because that’s almost the same color as my gown, Emma. But it really doesn’t suit you at all. There’s way too much fabric. You look lost in it.”

  “I know,” Emma admitted. “It doesn’t feel like me. Abby made me try it because it matches my eyes. I wanted to try on this black gown—it reminded me of something I saw on the red carpet, but Abby keeps saying I look better in pastels.”

  Bryn considered this. “Well, I agree that you do look good in pastels, Em. But you also look good in black—as long as you have a little blush and lip color to keep you from looking too faded. When it comes to dress designs, you need to look for something more fitted and narrower at the bottom—not fluffy or layered or full. Maybe a satin dress with a slit so that you can walk.”

  “Really?” Emma sounded hopeful. “That sounds like the black number I liked, but Devon and Abby said it looked too old for me.”

  “Let me see it,” Bryn insisted.

  “I’ll go find it and put it on and send a picture.”

  Bryn felt slightly encouraged as she waited for Emma to send her the next photo. Okay, it wasn’t as fun as being there, but it was better than pla
ying another hand of gin rummy with Grandma.

  Before long her phone chimed again and there was Emma in a sophisticated-looking black dress. Unfortunately, the neckline was way too low. Bryn started to text then decided to call. “I love everything about the dress,” she began, “but the neckline is too plunging.”

  “I know. And it’s a little big in the bust too.” Emma laughed. “Or I’m a little small.”

  “Can they do some alteration?” Bryn asked. “It looks like you could shorten that V-neck by pulling it together on the bottom, Em. Can you get some straight pins and try to fasten it together just to see?”

  Emma told someone what Bryn had said and it sounded like they were trying it out. “It works!” Emma exclaimed. “You should see it, Bryn.”

  “Send me another photo,” Bryn insisted.

  After a couple of minutes the next photo came and Bryn could see that it was much better. Still sleek and chic but not so much skin showing. And the design of the gown really made petite Emma look taller. Beautiful, Bryn texted back. Perfect.

  The next time Bryn’s phone rang it was Devon. “Where’s your photo?” Bryn asked. “What’s your dress look like?”

  “I really need your help,” Devon told her. “I’ve tried on a bunch of gowns and nothing looks right.”

  “Okay . . .” Bryn pictured Devon in her mind. Curvy redhead with a heart-shaped face. Mid-range height, mid-range weight. Sparkling dark-brown eyes. “What kind of look are you going for anyway?”

  “That’s the problem, I’m not sure. At first I thought I was going for black, kinda like what Emma picked out. But I tried one on and I looked like a hooker.”

  Bryn laughed. “Oh, I doubt that.”

  “Emma said I did.”

  “Hmm . . .” Bryn closed her eyes, trying to imagine what kind of dress would look great on Devon. “Well, you look fabulous in almost any shade of green,” Bryn told her. “It really sets off your hair and your complexion.”

  “Okay . . . but what shade of green?”

  “Probably something vibrant. Like a jewel tone. What about emerald?” Bryn opened her eyes to look out over the ocean. “Or even turquoise or teal.”