images

four

Midnight Blues

That night, after Aly and Brooke had helped Mom make phone calls to local charities in the afternoon, hoping to find one that could make good use of the food that would be left over from the wedding (they did—it was called Rock & Wrap It Up), Aly sat on Brooke’s bed, braiding her sister’s hair. Her own hair was a little too short for ­braiding.

“Is this the kind of hairstyle you’re going to give me for Joan’s wedding?” Brooke asked. The braid crossed her head, starting at her left temple and ending just over her right shoulder.

“I don’t think so,” Aly answered. “This isn’t fancy enough. Maybe we should look at some flower girl hairdos in magazines or online.”

Aly wrapped an elastic the color of Midnight Blues polish around the bottom of the braid. “Let’s check Mom’s computer,” Brooke said.

The girls went into the home office. Aly wiggled the mouse to wake up the computer, then did a search for “flower girl hair images.”

Hundreds of pictures came up. Aly and Brooke scanned them all.

“Oooh!” Brooke cooed. “Look at that one!”

A lot of the styles were just half-up hairdos with curls, but the one Brooke was pointing to looked really complicated: A big bun sat on top, with two braids coming in from the sides and curls falling down the back. Around the bun was a crown of flowers.

“I like it, Brookester,” Aly said. “We’ll have to ask Joan about the flower crown, but I think I can figure out how to do the rest of it.”

“That’s awesome,” Brooke said. “I’m going to look like a flower princess.”

“You totally are,” Aly agreed.

Brooke was quiet for a moment before she asked, “Are you sure you don’t want to be a flower girl? Because I’d rather be a flower girl with you than with Heather Davis. You’re my sister, and she’s just a first grader. You and I do things better when we’re a team.”

Aly hugged her sister. If she had spoken right then, Brooke might have heard the tears in her voice. Sometimes the weirdest things made Aly feel like she was going to cry.

“I like being a team with you too,” she said, “and if Suzy weren’t involved, I probably would be a flower girl. But you know what’s most annoying about Suzy Davis? Even when she’s mean about things, she’s right a lot of the time. Look at all the girls in these photos.” Aly pointed to the screen. “The oldest one looks nine. Almost eleven really does feel too old to be a flower girl.”

Brooke pushed her glasses up on her nose and sighed. “I just wish that you were going to be in the wedding with me and that we could walk down the aisle together wearing fancy dresses.”

Aly wished that too. “I’m sure I’ll wear a fancy dress,” she said. “I’m still coming to the wedding, and even regular guests need nice clothes for weddings. I just won’t get to walk down the aisle. But Dad won’t either, so I guess I’ll sit with him.”

“But don’t you want to walk down the aisle?” Brooke asked.

“I kind of do.”

Aly must’ve looked sad, because Brooke started stroking her hair. “Don’t worry, Al,” she said. “I’ll tell you what it’s like. And this way, you’ll get to make me look extra beautiful for the wedding. That’ll be a lot of fun, right?”

“Right,” Aly said, grinning. “Okay, let’s head back to our room to see if I can get your hair to look like that.”

But as she unbraided and rebraided Brooke’s hair, all Aly could think about was watching her sister from the wedding sidelines.