Hope you have a good night… Hopefully I can talk to you tomorrow?
Hi, Tristian… hope you had a good morning. I did my harp lessons today, and I wanted to ask if you wanted to help me with some more sketching?
Wedon’t have to… we can do whatever you want. Please.
Have a good night, Tristian… I wanted to visit your apartment, but I didn’t want to intrude… Please let me know if you’re okay.
I’m sorry for bothering you… I just wanted to see you, please.
The delivered had turned to seen for each message. Tristian had read them all, but not sent a single word back.
My heart clenched. He was deliberately ignoring me. The realization was devastating, and I had no clue why he was cutting me out. Maybe I was being too clingy… too attached. Tears sprung to my eyes as the idea of him ignoring me forever took root in my mind. My hands grew sweaty, and I did my best to calm down, pulling the collar of his hoodie up to my nose to inhale the fading scent of him.
My door opened with a sudden bang. I jumped, my heart leaping into my throat, to see Amber and May strolling into my room with several shopping bags swinging from their hands. Papa wasn’t home, so someone else probably let them in.
“Come on, loser. We’re going to the club,” May said happily.
I shook my head, shrinking back into the oversized hoodie. “I don’t wanna,” I whispered.
Amber sighed, looking at me with a mixture of pity and annoyance. “Ingrid, babe, we’re going, and you’re coming with. You’ve been stuck in this room for God knows how long. It’s not good for you.”
I grasped for straws. “But Papa won’t let me—”
“BUTPapaisn’t here right now,“ said May with a devilish grin.
“But—”
“Oh, for goodness sake, Ingrid. Live a little,” Amber urged.
I remainedsilent, biting the inside of my cheek. I hadn’t mentioned that Tristian had told me about her attempt to seduce him, and I wasn’t sure I planned on it. Ideally I should just cut her out… but she and May were my only friends. If I lost them, I’d have no one but the silence now Tristian appeared to be done with me.
May dumped a bag on my bed. “Come on, let’s get you dolled up and ready. It’ll be fun! So get your little ass up, and let’s go.” She left no room for complaining.
I stood up on heavy legs and grabbed the dress and heels they’d bought for me. After a quick, steaming shower, I slipped on the outfit. When I looked in the mirror, I shook my head as May and Amber eyed me like a prize.
“You look amazing!” May cried.
The fabric clung—tight, white, leaving nothing to the imagination. “It’s too tight…” I muttered. My butt was very defined, as were my hips, my chest accentuated more than I was comfortable with. I wasn’t used to looking like this—like an invitation.
Amber rolled her eyes and sat me on the bed, beginning to work on my hair with aggressive efficiency. “You look great. Now come on. We haven’t bothered you for the last few days, and you dragged us to the museum last month. You owe us.”
I bit my lip again, the guilt gnawing at me.Why are they even my friends?
Eventually, she finished my hair, leaving it with far more bounce and flow than my usual texture. May lined my lips and curled my lashes like I was her personal mannequin. But other than light foundation and blush, she didn’t pry over doing my makeup.
I stood up, feeling a little wobbly in the high heels, and walked back to the mirror. I guess I liked the dress. It was… pretty. In a fragile, dangerous sort of way.
Amber and May finished their own transformations, pulling on a bold red and sleek black dress respectively. Soon I found myself in the backseat of a car, one of Amber and May’s male friends in the driver’s seat and another in the passenger seat. They chatted and laughed, the guys in the front turning round to shoot easy boyish grins at the girls, and me. Amber and May responded in kind, just as they had with Kane that first time they brought me to the tattoo parlor. I fought to smile too. But I knew it didn’t touch my eyes.
One of the guys noticed. “What’s up with her?” he asked Amber.
She didn’t even look at me, eyes on her phone as she scrolled through her feed, her voice bored and mocking. “Daddy’s got her on a tight leash. She’s feeling a bit wound up about going out without his signature on her permission slip.”
The guys burst out laughing; the girls snickered cattily.
I sighed, turned to the window, tuned it out.
Normally, they would’ve been right. Iwason a tight leash, and I did always worry about displeasing my parents. But tonight, all I could think about was Tristian. Why was he ignoring me? What had I done wrong? I raked over our last interactions, searching for something, anything. He’d seemed a little off that last time he dropped me home, but before that, in the park, he was so close to me, hands and body against mine as he helped me to draw, guided me through techniques.
