Devil Incarnate (Boys of Preston Prep #4) - Angel Lawson Page 0,147

other dress. It was so much more regal than this one.”

I grumble, “I’m not royalty, Mom. And besides, I like this dress more.” I adjust the fabric in my lap, still enjoying the way it sways when I kick my feet. This thing is going to be fucking awesome to spin in, and I wouldn’t admit it to anyone here, but I can’t wait. It’s probably the only reason she let me choose it. She wants all the pomp and circumstance, but deep down I get the feeling she also wants me to enjoy it. Gushing over tiaras and taffeta is what normal, well-adjusted rich girls do. This dress is as close as I come.

Plus, Heston had called me beautiful in it.

Right before we’re set to take pictures, Caroline has an utter breakdown about contact lenses. Her mom doesn’t want her wearing glasses, and apparently Caroline has a deep phobia of touching her eyeball.

Emory sweeps into the room, shielding his eyes. “I’m here to touch some eyeballs and save the day! Cover yourselves, future ladies of society!”

Vandy laughs. “Em, we’ve all been dressed since noon!”

He peeks through his fingers, verifying this. “Oh, good. I’ve been informed that—” His words die off when he finally gets a good look at his sister. Vandy’s wearing a sleek satin dress, structured at the bodice and flaring out into something that’s also going to look awesome to spin in. Her hair’s been pinned up into a soft waterfall of golden ringlets. In what’s apparently tradition for these things, she’s wearing something of their mother’s; a strand of petite, layered pearls around her neck. She looks like the perfect marriage of modern and traditional. “Wow, you look like…” He gawks at her for a long moment, finally settling on, “a woman.”

I have to look away when he gathers her into a hug she clearly isn’t expecting. The two of them have been through a lot together, and hearing them laugh—Emory bending down to whisper something private in her ear—it makes me wish I had that.

George is probably in the kitchen trying to score extra dessert to make this whole thing feel worth it.

When Emory releases his sister, he turns to me, doing a double-take. “Georgia Porgia! Look at you! You sure clean up well.”

“Thanks,” I say, giving him a mockingly coy curtsey. When I’m back to my full height, I point to the tiara. “Like my horcrux?”

“That is some massively intimidating bling,” he agrees, pulling me into a hug next. Into my ear, he whispers, “You’re going to slay it.” After me comes Caroline, and this is a double-take I understand. Without the pigtails, sweaters, and glasses, she’s like a totally different girl. “Caro-fine, what have you done with my sweet, nerdy goth babe?”

She doesn’t look flattered. “Contacts are bullshit!”

He catches her wrist before she throws the box. “Calm down, I do this every morning. Have a seat. I’ll teach you my secrets.”

Once that crisis is averted and the organizers announce that it’s time, we’re directed to our separate areas. The presentation of the debutants has two parts. The one where we’re initially presented by our fathers, and then the one where we’re handed over to our escorts. There’s some archaic symbology going on here, one man giving his daughter, dressed in virginal white, over to a younger man. Gross. Whatever. It’s almost over.

We’re shuttled to the side of the stage where we meet up with our fathers, or stepfathers, or whoever the stand-in is for the night. I see my dad and he smiles, beaming at the sight of me.

“You look beautiful, honey,” he says, kissing me on the cheek.

“Thanks, Daddy.”

My dad is a good guy. A busy guy. He’s running for office because he wants to make a difference and yeah, a little bit because of the power that comes with it. Our money is old, but he’s determined to do something with it, and he and my mom make a good team. He tempers her need for perfection in a way I’ve never been able to.

He clasps his hand over mine when I hook our arms together and leans in. “I got your scarf. It’ll be great for when the weather cools off.”

I grin. “The colors are okay? I didn’t want to go too bright, but I know yellow is your favorite.”

“It’s perfect.” His eyes skim over me, like he’s searching for something. I know what it is, he’s always wanting to make sure I’m okay. He pays for my school, my