Elite (Eagle Elite) - By Rachel Van Dyken Page 0,7
you.”
“Young?” I repeated looking at the yellow and white striped spaghetti strap dress.
“Yeah, I mean, it’s cute and it would probably be killer for a picnic or something fun. But this is the first party where everyone’s going to meet you. You need to look serious, you need to look hot, and you need to look untouchable.”
“Okay.” I chewed my lip.
“Don’t worry, I think I’ve got the perfect dress.”
My stomach launched into nervous somersaults. If it was anything like the dress she was wearing now, then I was going to be put in prison for prostituting myself out.
“Here.” She threw me a short black leather skirt, an oversized sweater with holes and some tights that were completely black until they reached mid-thigh and then sheer.
I quickly threw everything on. She kept handing me things and I kept dressing. Two bracelets and one freakishly long necklace later she declared me ready.
I was finally allowed to look in the mirror.
I smiled at my reflection. I looked perfect. Not like her and not like a supermodel, but like me. The makeup made my brown eyes pop, and my outfit still looked classy but fun.
“Shoes!” Monroe yelled. “Crap, what size of shoe do you wear?”
“Eight?”
“Crap.” She began to pace. “I wear a ten.”
Of course.
“Um, I may have something.” I tore open my suitcase and pulled out grandma’s old vintage heels, the ones I always used to play dress up in when I was little.
“Nice! Where’d you get these?”
“My grandma.” I shrugged.
“Remind me to tell her what a kick ass dresser she is next time she visits.”
“She’s dead,” I said it quietly, quickly.
The room fell silent. My eyes shifted to the floor. I hated this part. The part where people don’t know what to say but all you really want is for them to say nothing.
“That sucks.” She exhaled heavily and then placed the shoes on the floor. “I think she’d want you to rock 'em, what do you think?”
I swallowed the knot in my throat and nodded with watery eyes. “I think she would too.”
“Great, now let’s go party and show my brother what a complete loser he is.”
We linked arms and made our way to the party. It was the first time in six months I’d had another female to talk to. The first time in my life I’d had a friend who was a girl. I really liked it.
Chapter Four
The night air crackled with excitement. People talked excitedly down the main sidewalk as everyone made their way toward a huge building with a sign that said “Welcome Back!”
“Damn, Monroe, how do you walk in those things?” Tex fell into step with us and winked. What? Did he suddenly find me acceptable now that I was walking with Monroe? I glared back remembering our first meeting where he flipped me off because his idiot group leader told him too. Minion.
“Tex, I take it you’ve probably met Trace already?”
“I waved.”
“So you flipped her off?” Monroe stopped walking.
“Nixon said—”
“I swear if you finish that sentence I’m castrating you in your sleep.” Monroe poked his chest. “Now apologize to Trace.”
His red hair was spiked all over his head, his teeth were gleaming white in the dusk air as he walked around her and stood in front of me. “I’m sorry I flipped you off. I’m also sorry I didn’t get to see you this close up. You’re pretty. Care to ditch the party tonight? I’m sure we could find a way to entertain—”
“—I said apologize, not hit on her.” Monroe pushed him away. He laughed and then pulled her into a hug. “Excuse him, Trace. He’s almost as big of an ass as Nixon.”
“She said almost.” Tex laughed and walked in between us, putting an arm around each of us as we made our way into the main lobby of the building.
“Speaking of the devil…” Monroe said under her breath as Nixon held court in the middle of the room.
I felt like I was walking in slow motion. Like I wasn’t actually living this life but watching someone else live it. Or at least watching it on TV.
Nixon stood in the middle of the room. He was wearing black slacks and a tight baby blue shirt with a skinny tie and vest. He looked like he was modeling for Gucci or something. He even had aviators on. Oh gosh, I have officially died and gone to magazine model hell.
Chase was next to him, in tight black jeans and a sweater vest that could have done Tommy