“Okay, okay, I mean really want—more than flirting and school or whatever, really want—doesn’t even want to be around me?”
Maybe it’s karma. Pandora always joked that one day someone was going to break my heart.
“I have no idea, to be honest with you. I can’t read him. He seems to always have a blank scowl on his face. But I haven’t been around him much.”
I drop back down on the bed, looking up at the white ceiling.
“It’s for the best.” She squeezes my hand. “Penelope, that man is dark. He’s been through shit. I’m sure that if he told you about it you’d cry and be sad for weeks. You’re soft and sweet and all heart. You need someone who can give you those things back.”
“I touched him the other day and he flinched. He said he only knows pain from touch,” I tell her.
“Fuck,” she mumbles.
“Mom and Dad wouldn’t bring him around us if they thought he was bad.” I don’t know why, but I still feel the need to protect him, stand up for him.
“I’m not saying he’s bad. I’m saying he’s broken.” She knocks my shoulder with hers. “I mean, he has to be broken, because no man can ever withstand your charms.”
I can’t help the small laugh that escapes me.
“Mom and Dad head out for date night?” I ask. They always do date night on Friday. I never cook on those nights, so Pandora and I just snack on stuff instead of making a whole meal.
“Yep,” she confirms.
I sit up, letting go of her hand.
“No,” she says before I can even get off the bed.
“Come on. I need something to get me out of this funk.” Also to keep me distracted so I don’t keep checking my phone in hopes he will text me. Tell me he didn’t mean what he said. Ask me to come to the backyard.
“No,” she says again flatly and doesn’t move.
I put my hands on my hips and stare at her. “This is going one of two ways.”
“Fucking shit,” she mumbles, sitting up. I want to go out and do something, and I clearly don’t want Ivan around. She knows that. So that means we’re sneaking out. She can come willingly or she’ll follow me. But we both know she’s not letting me go alone.
“Fine.” She rolls off the bed and stands up. “Dancing?” she asks, and I see a small smile pull at her lips. She pretends to hate when we go dancing, but she loves it, and we haven’t been in a while.
“God, it’s been forever.” I smile, feeling a little lighter.
Pandora and I have always loved to dance. I don’t think we’re any good at it, but we like to jump around and sing as loud as we can to the music, and neither of us care if we make fools of ourselves.
“Okay, I’m getting ready!” I half-scream, running from her room excitedly.
“See you in two hours,” Pandora grumbles, making me laugh.
“I’ll be fast, I promise. It’s already ten,” I shout from the other room, flinging open my closet doors.
I grab a gray dress that I know will look great with my hair. I toss it on the bed then run out of my room and towards my mom’s. I burst out laughing when I see Pandora already in Mom’s closet holding up a pair of black knee-high boots.
“Mine.” She holds them to her chest like I might snatch them from her.
“I’m going for these.” I grab a pair of black Miu Mius that have diamonds on the heels. They’ll not only be easy to dance in but will also go perfectly with my dress.
I turn, dashing back to my room and tossing the shoes next to the dress. Pulling my hair up, I take a quick shower and then get out, rushing to get ready. I towel off and pull my hair down. I don’t need to do much with it. I apply some makeup then slip from the bathroom and throw on a matching strapless bra and panties.
Pandora opens my door, leaning against the frame as I pull the dress over my head and straighten it out. It’s Grecian-style and ties on one shoulder and bunches at the hip, but it manages to hug my curves perfectly. After I put my shoes on, I turn to look at Pandora. She’s dressed like always. Except for when she has to wear a school uniform, she’s always in all black. Black boots, tight black pants, and a tight black tee. I know we look the same, but I always feel like black does nothing for me. But with her, I swear it makes her eyes even brighter and her hair a more vivid color.
“You look hot,” I tell her. She shrugs like she doesn’t care if she does or not.
“That dress is short.”
I do the same shrug she just did. It is a little short, but I don’t care. I look at myself in the mirror, and Pandora comes to stand next to me.