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“YOUR FATHER HAD TO pass on his wretched curls, didn’t he?”
As Miranda pulls the comb through Penny’s hair with a curse, Penny winces. It isn’t just her. Colt has the unruly Ramsay locks, too, but Miranda never berates his hair.
“Ouch! What the heck are you doing?” Her scalp burns as her hair is secured in a ponytail high upon her head. She fingers the sides. “Can I see it?”
“Give me a few moments. I’m trying something.”
Miranda riffles through her vanity, and a moment of panic shifts through Penny. It’s taken six months to grow at least enough length to pull her hair back. Something silver flashes in her peripheral vision, and she flinches. “What is that?”
Miranda rolls her eyes. “Calm down. It’s just an infinity comb. I’m trying to make a crown on top of your head. There might be a few strays, but that’s what hairspray is for.”
Penny holds her breath. It’s not like she has the ability to go anywhere with her mother’s death grip currently grounding her in place.
With a wistful sigh, she glances at her reflection in the mirror. She’s never dressed up like this before. It isn’t something she wants to do often, but for the first time in her life, she’s enjoying the girly things.
“Just a bit to hold it...”
Penny closes her eyes and coughs as a continuous spray of aerosol surrounds her. The cloud dissipates, and she blinks rapidly. “Can I look now?”
Turning Penny around, Miranda preens like a peacock. “Holy hell, I should have been a beauty consultant.” She fluffs Penny’s curls and grins. “I can make anyone look good.”
Penny glowers at her mother as the insult hits hard. They’ve been doing so well the last few days... shopping for her dress together and picking out flowers.
Why does Miranda have to ruin everything?
Taking the hand-held mirror from the vanity, Penny holds it up to see the back. A beautiful crown of curls cascades like a fountain of tiny gold ringlets from the top of her head. Stray pieces fall at her ears. The overall look is soft and feminine. Her cheeks warm.
I almost look pretty.
Miranda arches an eyebrow. “Well?”
Penny swallows hard and smiles. “Thank you. It’s perfect.”
“Makeup?” Miranda lifts her cosmetic case and wiggles her eyebrows. The woman loves makeup. She usually goes out at night sporting more than most of the cast playing Cats.
Biting her lip, Penny holds up a hand. “Not too much, okay? Just a little to accent my eyes?” Miranda’s brows draw together, and Penny quickly adds, “I don’t want it to take away from my hair. It’s so pretty.”
Reluctantly, Miranda spends a few moments adding color to Penny’s eyelids followed by a bit of liner and mascara. She flips Penny around again and grins. “Just call me the miracle worker.”
Without a glance in the mirror, Penny stands. That’s about as much of a compliment as she’ll ever get from her mother. “Thank you for helping me. My date will be here soon. I’d better get dressed.” Tightening her robe around her waist, she shuffles down the hall and up the stairs to her bedroom.
Why does my mother have to be so mean?
Penny dabs at the few tears gathering at her newly mascara-covered eyelashes. She isn’t the most gorgeous girl in her school. But she isn’t ugly, either.
Am I?
Passable, maybe. At least for tonight.
Trying to bolster her confidence, she mutters, “I’m smarter than most.” It’s the only thing she has going for her. And really the only thing that matters.
I’ll keep telling myself that.
Closing her door, she strips off her robe and stands in front of the mirror hanging in her closet. She covers herself self-consciously. A simple pair of cotton panties and a plain-Jane bra do nothing to hide the curves that she’d developed at an early age.
The summer between her junior high years she’d hit a growth spurt in every way possible. Tyson Parks had been an ass about it, of course. In seventh grade, he’d teased her mercilessly for being flat-chested. The first day of eighth grade, he’d ripped into her for being a fully developed D-cup.
I can’t win for losing. What’s new?
Abandoning the mirror, she traipses to the closet and removes the stunning magenta-colored outfit she bought at the thrift store. Passing a hand over the sequins that cover the top half of the dress, she smiles. After searching four stores, she’d finally found the perfect dress. Pink isn’t her favorite color, but once she tried it on, she knew it was meant to be.
Grabbing her pantyhose, she rolls them up her legs one at a time. She shimmies the dress over her head, taking care not to muss her hair. The A-line garment hugs her hips delicately, falling just above her knees. With a tulle skirt just a shade darker than the top, it leaves enough to the imagination that she doesn’t feel too exposed.
She adjusts the sweetheart neckline with a happy sigh. “Perfect.” It’s even comfortable enough to dance in. If he asks me.
Fastening the small pearl pendant around her neck, a gift her father had given her for her sixth birthday, she looks in the mirror. Her eyes widen as she stares at her reflection. She grins. “Is this even me?”
Cinderella, eat your heart out.
“Penelope! Your date is here!”
Grabbing the black wedges that her mother let her borrow, she quickly places them on her feet. She opens the small handbag that matches the shoes and stuffs her phone and a lip gloss inside.
Taking a deep breath, she slowly descends the stairs. As her date Brandon comes into view, a gasp escapes her throat.
Holy crap, he’s cute!
His lips curve into a broad smile as he sweeps his fingers through his sandy blond hair mussed stylishly upon his head. Dressed in a charcoal sweater and nice pants, he looks every bit the alter-boy Christy says he is.
Tucking a curl behind her ear, she bites her lip nervously. “Um, hi. Brandon?”
Holding out her wrist corsage, he nods. “Hey, Penny. Wow, you look amazing.”
Her mother hovers nearby with a camera and giggles. “You’ve done good with this one Penelope. Might be your only chance, so don’t screw it up.”
Brandon laughs as heat floods through Penny’s cheeks. She swallows the lump sitting at the back of her throat and croaks, “God, I’m so sorry! Um, I guess that’s moms for you?”
Lowering his voice, he whispers, “I get it. My mother is a little overbearing, too.”
“Turn around, you two. Just a few pictures?”
Penny stands next to him. As he settles his hand upon her waist, his silvery eyes take her in. She trembles nervously. Except for Luke, no boy has ever touched her. The weight of his arm feels strange, like a lead bar holding her down.
She looks at her mother and smiles for the picture. The flash pops off several times.
Brandon pulls her closer. “You look beautiful, Penny. I think this is going to be a fun evening.”
Tingles erupt across her shoulders as his breath warms her from head to toe. Reveling in her first date, she sighs wistfully. “Me too.”