The Boy I Hate

Twenty Four.

It was with a heavy heart I pulled my debutante dress out of the closet. I had been dreading this night since the date had been set, but my mother was deaf to my pleas. Even as I went to rehearsals and bought my dress there was always the hope in the back of my mind that I would get out of it. I'm not sure how I thought that was possible. What Margaret Farris Abram wanted, she got.

I decided to look on the bright side. Even though I hated the idea of being showboated to my community for the sake of my mother's reputation... it was still only just a party. One party in a lifetime full of them. Surely I could enjoy myself if I decided to. It wasn't like I had nothing to look forward to; I loved my dress, and I hoped the romance of it all could help to rekindle my relationship with Richard.

The venue was admittedly beautiful, with a crystal chandelier, marble ballroom, and a grand staircase I knew I be walking down for my debut to society. Even the air we breathed was elegant.

Upon arrival I was pleased to be excused to the dressing room where all the Debs would wait for our presentation. At least this way I could avoid small talk with my parent's friends and instead chatter with girls my age. Margie was already there, and when she saw me she beamed, "Mabel! You look amazing!."

I giggled, "you're one to talk! You look like you walked out of a magazine. Are you excited?"

"Not really," she shrugged with a grin, "but probably more than you are." I was sure she was right about that. I was excited about one thing only, and that was to dance with my boyfriend. I hoped it would take me back to before the double agent plan. To when I believed our relationship was perfect. I'd even made him promise not to talk about the prank war at all tonight. I intended to treat the night more like a date than a ball.

Elizabeth joined our conversation and I was reminded of a text I'd received from Charlie earlier that day. He'd asked around about Liz and found out there was nothing severe in that brown paper bag. Only herbal refreshments, which meant it was officially none of my business.

That didn't stop me from believing she could be the mole though. Just because when I saw her she happened to be buying weed didn't mean those were her only excursions to the west side. After all, I couldn't imagine it being anyone else.

Eventually we received word that all the guests had arrived, meaning we needed to line up at the door and wait for our entrance music to play. Of course, my mother had arranged that I'd be the grand finale, so I waited in the back. Margie, on the other hand, was third, so we had to separate. I was left next to a girl named Harper who I only knew well enough to politely smile at.

The song began and I watched as one by one the girls exited. I couldn't see them descend the staircase but I could hear their self-descriptions through the speakers. Some played soccer, and others were on the debate team. Everyone was passionate about serving their community. My mom took care of my description so I was sure it was nothing noteworthy - much like the rest of them.

I was simply excited to see Rich walking from the other dressing room to be introduced as my escort. Which is why it felt like my world was spinning when I realized he wasn't the boy at the end of the line. Rather, it was one of the alternates that had been at our dance practice. I knew what that meant. Rich wasn't there.

I finally understood what it meant for my heart to drop; it sank somewhere into my stomach. A lump rose in my throat too. Still, I had to smile, because I was making my debut into high class society. One of the biggest events in my life - no matter how much I detested it - was something my own boyfriend couldn't be bothered to show up to.

I linked arms with my new escort, who had apologetic eyes, and tried to focus on the lady reading the notecard all about me. I couldn't really hear her though. Everything was beginning to sound like white noise.