Ruthless knight

Three weeks later…

 “Okay, don’t freak out,” Dylan says as she tugs on the zipper for dear life. 

Just the words you want to hear from your best friend when she’s doing up your prom dress.

“What happened?” 

“It won’t go up. But hey, it is not your fault at all. It’s Jace’s.” 

I look over my shoulder at her. “What does Jace have to do with my dress not fitting?”

“He used a humidifier the other day for his sinuses and it obviously shrunk your dress.” She scowls. “The rat sneezy bastard.” 

I have to stifle a laugh. I love how she’s trying to protect me from the truth.

I gained weight at the clinic…a lot. 

Turns out when you’re not stuffing amphetamines down your throat and you start eating again, your body soaks up the calories like a sponge. 

Deep down I had a feeling the dress wouldn’t fit—hell, I’m surprised I even managed to get it over my head—but it’s so freaking pretty, I still couldn’t help but try. 

 Fortunately, I still have my bridesmaid dress—the one from the first fitting—at Dylan’s house. 

“No big deal. I’ll just wear the—”

“All right, chop chop, bitches. I don’t have all day,” Bianca snaps, breezing into the bedroom like a storm. 

When I told her I pla

Now here she is…along with a suitcase full of makeup and hair tools. 

Good Lord. 

She glares at us. “Did I speak Russian or something?” She makes a karate chop with her hands. “What part of chop chop don’t you two understand? Prom starts in two hours.” 

Dylan and I exchange a glance. 

Bianca arches one perfectly tweezed eyebrow. “What’s going on?”

Dylan stands in front of me protectively. “I’ll tell you, but so help me God if you say one negative thing, I will shove a curling iron up your ass and make you my puppet.” She clears her throat. “The dress doesn’t fit.” 

I’m expecting Bianca to freak out, but to my surprise she’s totally calm. 

“Okay.” She examines me from head to toe. “No big deal. This is why we have backup plans.” She looks at Dylan. “You know that curling iron you want to shove up my ass?”

Dylan blinks. “Yeah?”

“Turn it on for me.” She taps a few buttons on her phone. “I’ll be back.” 

I’m so confused. “Where are you going?” 

“To be your freaking fairy godmother.”

 Bianca hands me a black garment bag when she returns. “Here.”

“What is it?” 

She unzips the bag. “Your prom dress, silly.” 

Sure enough, it is. 

I look at the identical dress hanging up on Dylan’s bedroom door. “But that—”

“I got you a new one.” 

My throat stings with tears. “You didn’t have to—”

The snapping of her fingers cuts me off.  “Blah, blah, blah. Quit yapping, Church girl. Time is ticking. We have to get you into this thing now.” 

I throw my robe off and step into the dress. 

“What size—” I start to ask, but then I stop myself. 

The size doesn’t matter. 

I’m going to prom in a beautiful dress with the guy who loves me for me. 

 “Holy shit,” Dylan sighs. “You look so beautiful.” 

Bianca grabs a tissue from the box and starts dabbing her eyes. “It’s my greatest work yet. Per-fucking-fection.” She sniffs. “You ready?”

After all that? Hell, yeah. 

Grabbing me by the shoulders, she turns me around. 

Hmm. Not what I expected. 

The long green off-the-shoulder satin V-neck with an empire waistline dress really flatters my figure and makes me feel gorgeous. 

There’s only one problem. 

“Uh…Bianca. I’m not trying to critique your skills or anything, but did you even put makeup on me?”

I look exactly like me. Well, a less tired and glossy lip version of me. 

“Of course, I did. I put a little cover up under your eyes. A little powder on your nose, I even used your favorite lip gloss…clear.” Her eyes meet mine in the mirror as she rests her chin on my shoulder. “I told you…you’re a ten.” 

My first impulse is to decline or turn it into a joke. 

But not this time. 

Instead I look at my reflection and smile. 

Because one thing counseling has made me realize is that I have so much love in my heart...and I've given none of it to myself.