Messed Up Vita

Chapter Thirty-Five

  Mom yanks back the curtains hard, making me wince. "Hm. . .  I thought it should be. . . Here!" She bends down and picks up a small box in her hands. It didn't look like anybody could stuff a dress in it, but when she pops the lid open, the dress literally spills out. There was a small amount of dust on it, but she just beats it off on the side of my Dad's bed.

   In her hands was a black dress with purple rimming on the collar and around the waist. It was silky and non-poofy, and had black spagetti straps. She hands it to me, a smile on her face.

   "Like it?" she asks.

   "I guess it's okay," I say, taking it by the top. I hold it to my chest and look down at how long it does to. It just barely reaches the top of my knees, hanging in a silk curtain.

   "Go try it on," she says.

   "Now? Isn't Dad going to get home soon?"

   "So?" Mom asks. Then her eyes widen, and she crosses her arms. "Eliot Sophia Peterson. Are you planning to sneak out to this party or what?"

   "It's a dance," I say, gritting my teeth. "And it's only for one night. I'm grounded. I don't think he'll let me go to the one dance I want to go to."

   Mom squintes her eyes, tapping her feet. A sign of giving in, as I know from recent experiences. She sighs and closes her eyes. "What are you grounded for?"

   I pinch my lips. "A. . . . an accidental tussle in school. . . "

   "Changing the name fight to tussle doesn't change the fact that you-"

  "My one dance, Mom!" I say. I hold up the dress. "One. One chance I'll ever wear this."

   She groans and throws her head towards the ceiling. "Fine! I'll try to talk something into your father. But don't think that I can actually do it."

   I flash her a winning smile. "Thanks!"

   She scowls at me and gently slaps her shoulder. "You are one cunning girl, Eliot Sophia. Whatever guy you're going with is a lucky one."

   My cheeks redden, but she walks out of the room before she can see. "How do you know that I'm going with somebody?"

   "Well, you wouldn't go to this so called 'stupid dance' if it weren't for a guy," she says. "And you will most definately not go with your friends. You said that's even lamer."

   I roll my eyes. "Fine. I'm going with somebody. But do not tell my dad!"

   "I won't," she reassures, and I follow her out. I hold the dress to my chest one more time. I sigh and walk into my own room, gently setting it on the bed. I look at my guitar across the room. I hope Joey makes all this worth going to the dance.

Joey's POV:

   I clentch and unclentch my fists, staring at the suit hanging from my wall. I absolutely hated suits. They're stiff and you look like a business man in them. It was a plain black and white one that my mother had gotten from the suit renters or whatever they're called.

   I run a hand through my hair and turn out of my room, pushing through the door. I was way to normally nervous for tomorrow. It was just a dance. I've been to one before, with a girl way back when. Not my best night. It was a bit boring, and all they did was hang around like dead flies. But that was in middle school. Are high school dances any different or what?

    I still can't believe I asked her like that. She should've heard from my own voice, somewhere private. Instead I scribbled it down on a note and made her read it herself when I wasn't even with her. Stupid me. Stupid.