“And leave you here to fend for yourself?” He raised a brow. Like he was a damn knight in shining armor.
Fine. If he wasn’t going to leave, then I was. I motioned for him to get up, then I grabbed my bra off of the floor and walked to the door myself. “I’m going to freshen up.”
“I’ll buy you a drink,” he said.
Once I opened the door, I stormed over to the Greenhouse. Connected to the main entertainment floor of the Dahlia District, the Greenhouse was a separate building that held two dressing rooms for the women who lived off property, and a few dozen closet-sized bedrooms for those of us that lived here.
I poked my head into the first dressing room. A long countertop faced a mirror, each individual section separated by dim vanity lights. Curlers and makeup were strewn across the countertop. A few late-arrivals applied mascara as they talked.
“Iris in yet?” I asked.
One of the servers shook her head. “Haven’t seen her.”
Iris lived on property too, but she found reasons to be in the dressing rooms. She liked to pretend she had a home outside of the Dahlia District, as if she came here for fun. Even though she was young, she was the server many of us went to when we had crappy experiences in the Terrariums. She always found a way to spin a bright side on any session, no matter how poorly it had gone, preaching that there was good in everything. Even a place like the Dahlia District had potential.
I could use some of that optimism right now.
I poked my head into the next dressing room and found Iris’s choppy black bob. Her big eyes widened.
“He cut you this time?” she asked. I nodded. “Ugh. But,” she sat up, “remember to use it as a bargaining chip next time. Leverage.”
“Should there evenbea next time?” I asked.
“Girl,” she tilted her head, “be careful, but don’t waste an opportunity.” She winked. “You can add a zero.”
The thought of receiving more money was nice, but it didn’t seem worth the hassle. I waved, then went down the dimly lit corridor to my bedroom, towards the back, the same one Mama had used. The twin bed, the dresser topped with a vanity mirror, and the round storage ottoman all barely fit. I sank onto the ottoman. They hadn’t even cleaned the room out when Mama died. I had absorbed all of her things. Dahlia figured I could use them, and I did.
I looked in the mirror. I hadn’t realized it, but I had sweat during the session that the hairs at my scalp were starting to curl. The rest of my hair was still straight, but there was a distinct wave to it now.
I removed the towel and tossed it into the laundry basket hidden underneath the bed. The cut wasn’t bleeding anymore, and it didn’t look as bad as I thought. Maybe it wouldn’t break open and bleed on stage.
Mama had died like this. Her hair done. Makeup carefully applied. The mortician had joked that she was so pretty already, he didn’t have to add much to make her look perfect in the coffin. I hadn’t found that funny. And when I look up in the mirror before I return to the Dahlia District, I find it ironic: my hair and makeup are so much like hers. You would think that I would strive to do the opposite. But someone like me could never escape our contract. My inheritance.
My phone rattled on the table.Norablinked on the screen. My little sister.
“What’s up?” I said. I checked the time; it was past nine p.m. I wasn’t used to her calling this late.
“You’re going to be mad at me,” she said, her voice squeaky.
“Uh oh.”
“Yeah… You know I’m in high school now, right?”
She was in the same, very private, all-girl boarding school that she had been in since she was a baby. Mama had enrolled her from the start, arguing that it was worth the expense to keep her hidden. Dahlia knew about me, but Mama could try to save Nora.
“Well, it’s not technically high school—”
“You know what I mean,” she sighed. “Anyway, there’s a winter ball at the end of the semester, and I know you don’t like that stuff, but Chance asked me, and—”
“Chance?”
“Yeah. He’s that boy I was telling you about. From Sea Lodge?”
Sea Lodge College Preparatory was the all-boys equivalent to Nora’s school. She had mentioned a boy, but I guess I had blocked it out. It was hard for me to think of her as a young woman who had urges and feelings.
One of the ways I promised Mama to keep Nora safe, was to not let her get close to a boy. We couldn’t risk the pregnancy, and it made me cringe to think of her with a broken heart. Love made you do stupid things, make stupid decisions, trust people you shouldn’t. It had happened to Mama, but I wouldn’t let it happen to Nora too.
But my heart raged with my mind. Nora deserved those experiences. To be with her peers, to feel like a queen, to make memories that she would never forget. Memories that I never had.
