Lost in July

XXIX

Collin
~

It is the day before the stupid dance, and I am standing with my mother in some flower shop, trying to pick something out for Margo.

My mother insisted that if I wanted to bring a date, I'd have to buy her some flowery wrist thing. I think she called it a corsage. I've definitely heard the word before, but I had no idea it was such a big deal. My mother acted like it was a sin for me not to give Margo one.

The funniest part about this is that I know Margo is going to hate it. She'd rather I gift her with a pack of cigarettes before we head inside. I smirk at the thought.

"Do you know the color of her dress?" My mom asks me, turning to look at me. She's currently bothering a woman who works here to find the perfect corsage.

I shrug. "I think she said black," I answer. My mom turns back to theI know it's black. She sent me a picture of her in it and I stared at it for twenty minutes. I'm not embarrassed to admit it. I rarely see her outside of a hoodie and sweatpants so seeing how the dress hugged her curves had me a little . . . flustered.

"Oh!" My mother says cheerfully. "That makes this easy then,"

"It does?" I narrow my eyes at her. Why does the color of Margo's dress matter?

My mom rolls her eyes as if the answer is obvious. "Yes. It's important to match the corsage to the lady's dress. It shows you pay attention and it will look nice on her."

"Well, what if I didn't know the color of her dress?"

"Then you go for neutral colors so it will match regardless of her dress," she responds quickly. If there's one thing my mother knows, it's stupid fashion rules like this one.

I nod my head so my mom thinks I understand her. I guess I do, but I still don't know why she needs a damn wrist flower in the first place.

"Hmm, I'm thinking a rose corsage with a black ribbon. What do you think?" My mom holds one up to my face.

I stare at it, seeing the roses as she described. "Looks great. Can we go now please?"

My mom sighs. "Yes. Let me just go buy this."

While she's at the register, I pull my phone out to text Margo only to see that she's already texted me.

Are you sure I need to meet them?

I know she's talking about my parents. Last night my parents informed me that they want to meet Margo before the dance. Why? I don't fucking know, but Margo is definitely not happy about it.

I called her to tell her last night and she practically had a panic attack on the phone. She went on what felt like a twelve-hour rant about how adults don't like her and that they would never think she was a rich kid from Prosper. Prosper, my private school, does have a very specific type of student, and although I don't fit that mold, almost everyone else does. The rich, selfish, arrogant teens who can't be bothered with manners or other people's feelings.

I had to lie and tell my parents Margo was from my school, though. If they knew she was from Orchard Hills they definitely wouldn't be supportive. I don't want to lie to them forever, but right now I can't bear the thought of fighting them every step of the way just to see Margo.