More Than Maybe - Erin Hahn Page 0,72
causing her fairy wings to flutter behind her.
“Whatever,” I say, hiding my grin. “You get what I mean.”
“Are you going to be a bridesmaid?”
I move on to another rack of metallic dresses. “Maid of honor. But it’s a super-small wedding. Like, courthouse small. Last I heard, Phil was trying to talk my mom into eloping. It was supercute, actually. He said he’d been waiting since he was seventeen and didn’t want to wait another week.”
“Phil said that?”
I nod, plucking out a glittery gold number.
“Phil Phil?”
“I know, it’s weird. But sweet. I even saw him eating a salad with his Big Mac the other day. Like, what? Who is he, even?”
“Smitten is who he is. Ooooooh. Vada.” Meg’s voice turns reverent. “That one. You have to try it on.”
I hold the dress under my chin. It’s a glittery golden strapless dress with a full-out tulle princess skirt that ends at the knees. “I don’t know. It’s a lot.”
“It’s your mom’s wedding. Isn’t it supposed to be a lot?”
“Yeah, but even this is like extra a lot.”
“Just try it on. If you want, we’ll grab some less flashy ones so you can compare.”
After pulling another half dozen dresses, we smush into a tiny dressing room, and Meg perches on a stool in the corner, holding our purses.
I should try on the others, but I’m too curious about the gold one. The thing is, I haven’t had much opportunity to wear dresses before. No one’s ever asked me to a school dance, and all my good friends are either homeschoolers or work at the bar. But I’ve never been against the practice. Just, you know, no reason to be all dressed up with no place to go.
But this wedding is going to be magic. By default. My two favorite people in the world are in love.
And having Luke as a date feels like magic.
And this dress looks like magic.
Its shimmery gold glints pull out the red in my hair and set it on fire. I’ve always been a little self-conscious about my extra pale, freckly skin, but somehow my shoulders look creamy instead of transparent. The cut gives me curves, enhancing what little is there in a way I never realized I could like. I swish side to side, and the full skirt sways around my knees. Even the terrible halogen lighting of the dressing room somehow makes the little sparkles on the tulle glitter and dance. Magic. Pure magic.
“You look like Cinderella.”
“I’m getting it.”
“Duh,” Meg says.
“Vada?” I hear my mom’s voice. “You girls in here?”
Meg dangles her arm out the top. “This one, Mary!”
I unlatch the door and step out to the three-way mirror. My mom gasps, clasping her hands together under her chin. “Oh, Vada. Oh my word. You are lovely. That dress is perfect.”
“You think?” I ask. This is something new, too. Dress shopping with my mom. Hot tears prick in the corners of my eyes when she nods wordlessly. She shakes her head after a minute, sniffing.
“I absolutely think. I can’t believe I made anything as beautiful as you.”
I turn back to the mirror, not sure how to respond. Not uncomfortable or anything. Just very loved.
“Luke is going to fall over when he sees you.”
“Oh,” I say, pleased, a split second before my brain catches on her words. “No. Wait. Who?”
My mom’s reflection rolls her eyes. “Seriously. Vada. You think I didn’t know?”
“Um.”
“Girl, I knew the second he turned up at our door fifteen whole minutes early for your study date. You two are stupid for each other.”
Meg snickers loudly, and I shoot her a glare. “What?” she says. “She’s right.”
“Not to mention,” my mom adds slyly, “I heard all about how he saved your behind at the club and told off your father.”
“Ah,” I say, smoothing the tulle at my waist, comprehension dawning. “Phil.”
She doesn’t deny it. “He says Luke’s a good kid.”
“He’s the best, Mom.”
She nods. “He’d better be.”
I turn back to my reflection. “I don’t even want to take it off. Can I just wear it out of here? And for the rest of the day?”
“Don’t you work tonight?” Meg points out. “That dress will make quite a stir at the bar.”
I huff an affected sigh. “Fine. I’ll take it off. In a minute. Take a picture.” My eyes flicker to my mom. “I want to send it to Luke!”
Meg pulls out her phone but pauses. “Isn’t that bad luck?”
“I’m not the one getting married,” I say lightly.
“Not yet,” she mutters. She shakes her head at