Chapter Twenty-Six

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The weeks leading up to Jessica's sixteen birthday bash have been... interesting.

For starters, I never thought I would attend any Sweet Sixteen, never mind Jessica Jermain's. The last time I went to a birthday party, I was in the fourth grade, and I'm pretty sure Mrs. Jones made Craig invite the whole class. Now Jessica is forcing me to stand by her side as she wears a sash and a tiara and dances to today's hits all night long.

"I'm not really into parties," I told her, tugging at the sleeves of my thrift store sweater. "Besides, I don't have a dress."

"You think I'm into parties? This was my aunt's idea, not mine," she reminded me. "And as for your outfit, just borrow something from my closet. Thanks to Aunt Heather, I own more dresses than I could ever possibly wear."

I shook my head. "I don't know. I'd still feel out of place."

"I need a friend there. A real friend. Please come?" She batted her eyes and fixed her lips in a puppy dog pout. There was no way I could refuse.

Damian's been walking on air, too. When I told him that he was not only invited to the party, but that he was going to be Jessica's escort, his jaw nearly hit the floor. I've never seen him so elated.

Obviously, Jose is my date to this shindig. We've never attended a formal event together. The will be a new experience for us both.

"It'll be a night we never forget," he assured me with a kiss on the forehead. "And I'm sure you'll be the most radiant girl there."

I rolled my eyes. In no version of reality would I ever be more beautiful than Jessica.

The party is only a few hours away. At seven-thirty sharp, Jessica will make her grand entrance into the ballroom of Starkton Hills Country Club. In the meantime, she and I sift through her closet in search of something for me to wear.

"What about this one?" She holds up a skintight, gold sequined dress that looks too small even for me. Just the sight of it makes me itch.

"Hard pass," I say with a chuckle.

"Um, what about this?" She gestures to a bright red, knee-length gown with a low neckline and halter straps. It would look stunning on Jessica. Me? Not so much.

"Do you have anything less flashy?" I ask. "I'm sorry for being such a pain. I just don't usually dress up, and Jose will be there, and—"

"Layla, it's fine." She puts her hands on my shoulders. Already, I feel less anxious. "It's just a stupid party, okay? Aunt Heather's going to make sure all eyes are on me all night, anyway." She rolls her hazel eyes. She's looking forward to this party about as much as she was looking forward to her geometry test a few weeks ago. "Don't worry, I'm going to find you the perfect dress."

I nod my head and manage a meager smile. "Yeah, you're right."

Jessica purses her lips. I can see gears turning in her mind. She quickly rifles through her closet and pulls out another gown.

"For the record, I hate this dress. I wore it to Evan's great aunt's funeral last year, and his mother told me I looked like a whore before the coffin was even in the ground."

I recall my own history with Evan's mother. She's almost as vile as my father. How paradoxical of her to call someone else a whore.

"Anyway," she goes on, handing me the dress, "it's perfect for you. Try it on."

"But—"

"Try. It. On."

I realize that she isn't going to take no for an answer. I bring the dress to the bathroom, strip down to my underwear, and pull it over my head.

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