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 playing 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.”

“Teal?” Devon echoed. “There was a teal gown that caught my eye, but it’s not exactly my usual look, you know?”

“Maybe that’s a good thing. Try something different. Describe it.”

“Well, the gown had a gathered skirt, and the bodice was cut like a strapless gown.” She laughed. “Which would probably look hot on me. But then it had this lace thingy going on up above the bodice. I mean, the lace part was the same color as the dress, but you could see skin through it. But it was kind of, well, modest, I guess you’d say.” She laughed harder now.

“Go try it on,” Bryn commanded. “And send me the photo.” In Bryn’s opinion, Devon would do well to consider less flashy styles. With all her curvy flamboyance, that girl often pushed it too far. And Em was right, Devon needed to be careful or she could look like a hooker. Anyway, it would be interesting to see her in a “modest” gown.

When Devon’s photo popped up, Bryn was totally shocked. Devon looked amazing in this dress. And although the neckline was high and the little cap sleeves covered her shoulders, Devon still looked hot. But it was a good sort of hot. Once again, Bryn decided to just call her. “I love that dress,” she told Devon. “You look like a million bucks in it. Very classic and chic.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely. It’s gorgeous and if you don’t get it, I’ll be seriously disappointed in you.”

“The other girls are gaga over it too,” Devon conceded. “So I guess this wraps it up.”

“Is Felicia with you?” Bryn asked.

“No, she’s visiting Sofia.”

“Oh . . . How is Sofia?”

Devon sighed. “Sounds like she’s in a lot of pain.”

“Poor thing.”

“But Felicia said to tell you she took your advice on her gown,” Devon continued. “I think Emma might have a photo on her phone.”

“Tell her to send it to me,” Bryn said before she hung up. She’d known that Felicia was worried about her prom dress. Bryn had done a long online search trying to find some gowns that would look great on Felicia, but not be too over-the-top for her parents. Like Abby’s dad, the Ruezes were fairly conservative—especially after what had happened with Felicia last winter when she’d suddenly decided to sneak some rather strange items of clothing to school, behind her mom’s back.

Bryn’s phone chimed again. This time the message was from Emma, and the photo was of a smiling Felicia wearing a gown that looked almost identical to one of the images that Bryn had sent her more than a week ago. It was a sleeveless gown with a hot pink bodice—a jewel neckline that was modest enough to please any dad—and a flowing skirt in a bright colored print of orange and coral and hot pink. Kind of a tropical look, but with Felicia’s brown skin and shiny black hair, it looked amazing . . . and expensive. But when Bryn questioned Emma on the price, Emma informed her that the dress came from Formal Rental Wear and had only cost forty bucks. Go figure!