The Wrong Path - By Vivian Marie Aubin du Paris Page 0,8
what you’re wearing tonight?”
Claire had all-but forced Annabelle to take one of Claudia’s short pleated skirts and white button-downs, instructing her to pair it with her platform Mary Janes. Annabelle instinctively held the clothes to herself. “Yeah.”
Her mother, in her white cotton polo and khakis, looked unhappy. “Is that what’s considered to be ‘in’ now?”
Annabelle glanced down at the clothes, then at her mother. “In a way.”
Her mother sighed. “Tell me again what lake this is at?”
“Cedar.”
“Alcohol?”
“Two-cup limit and no driving. I know.”
Her mother sighed again. “Is someone picking you up?”
She fidgeted, preparing for her big reveal. “Trevor’s going to give me a ride.”
That perked her up. “Trevor? From next door?”
Annabelle nodded, unable to resist smiling uncontrollably. “Yeah.”
Susan looked pleased. “He’s a good looking boy,” she told her daughter, winking. “And if you’re with him, we know you’ll be safe. Maybe while you’re out I’ll go pay Sophia a visit and we can gush about the cute grandbabies we’re going to have.”
Annabelle blushed furiously. “He’s just giving me a ride!” she objected, trying to hide her excitement. “It’s not a date.”
Her mother smiled, conceding. “What time is he coming?” she asked.
A jolt of horror went through her, all of her giddiness deflating instantly. She stared at her mother blankly. “I have no idea,” she admitted, stunned.
Susan laughed out loud. “Well then you’d better go get ready.”
Annabelle flashed a grateful smile at her, then rushed up the stairs to her room. She slipped into Claudia’s outfit, trying not to cringe at the shortness of the skirt. When she sat down, she sat right on her underwear. She made a mental note not to bend down. Other than the skirt length, the outfit was very flattering. Claire really was talented at putting clothes together.
She pulled a red ribbon from her vanity drawer and tied it into a headband around her light brown hair, tucking the knot against the base of her neck. She added simple silver dangling earrings and a matching necklace and leaned back to check her reflection, smiling in satisfaction at herself.
For the next twenty minutes she worked on her makeup, forcing herself to apply it more heavily than she normally did. This was her big chance to impress Trevor, and she wanted to look her best, not washed out or young.
There was a light rap on the door, and she turned. “Come in!” she called.
Her father stepped into the room with a smile that quickly died as he caught sight of her. “That’s… a lot of makeup,” he said.
Annabelle swiftly turned back to her mirror, flushing. She looked like the other girls—black eyeliner, smoky dark gray shadow, lots of mascara, and shiny red lip gloss. She spun back to face her dad, frowning. “Do I look silly?” she asked nervously.
He made a face. “No. You look beautiful. Too grown up for a father’s liking, though.” He sat on the edge of her bed and smiled at her. “You really do look beautiful, sweetie. But that outfit…” He sighed and rubbed his neck. “I know this isn’t something you want to hear from your dad, but is that really the message you want to portray?”
She blushed, humiliated, and twisted her hands in her lap. “I’m going with Trevor,” she told her dad, hoping to ease his mind. “You know he’s not going to let anything happen to me, no matter how I’m dressed.”
Leroy nodded. “Your mom mentioned that. I just wanted to… remind you to be careful. Sometimes these parties can get a little wild, and Trevor might not be there to hold your hand the entire time.”
She fidgeted again. “I know. I’ll be careful.” Again, to ease his mind, she reached out to the end of the vanity and held up the pepper spray he’d bought her, deliberately putting it into her purse.
He laughed. “Good girl.” He came over and kissed her lightly on the head. “You do look beautiful, honey.”
She smiled happily. “Thanks, Daddy.”
“You’re welcome. Trevor won’t know what hit him.” With that, he was gone, lightly shutting the door behind him.
Annabelle looked back at the mirror when he was gone, studying her reflection. The girl in the mirror didn’t look anything like her, and for a moment, she didn’t recognize herself. Her eyes seemed impossibly large and dark against her light skin. Her lips were red and shiny, the light shimmering off of them. It seemed unnatural, as if she had morphed into someone else. For a brief second she contemplated taking all the makeup off and