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My hair was in loose waves, I wore dark-red lipstick, and my eyes were sparkling. When I asked Mom earlier what we were supposed to wear and she said, “Dress up!” I immediately knew I was going to put this on. Even though she said to dress up, I knew this wasn’t what she meant. She meant one of my jersey dresses I wore to plays or the wrap skirt I wore to the one wedding I’d been to in the last five years. Or maybe she meant the rainbow sparkly pants I wore to a concert last year.

She didn’t mean this.

I snapped a mirror selfie and sent it to Ryan along with the words: Have fun at the ball without me. He hadn’t said he was still going, but I assumed he was. He went every year. This was his parents’ holiday party where they networked and socialized. Maybe Ryan was expected to do that too. To prepare for an internship, like his dad had suggested when I was hiding behind the curtains that night in their living room.

I took a deep breath and walked downstairs.

Momma was the first to see me, and her eyes went wide. She wore black slacks and a long-sleeved red button-up. She quickly settled her expression and said, “You look beautiful.”

“Whoa!” Mom said. “So pretty. Where did you get that dress?”

“I borrowed it from Fiona,” I said, the lie Ryan had supplied me with earlier this week spilling out.

Mom’s brows went down. She was probably wondering how one of Fiona’s dresses fit me so perfectly. We were not the same size. I didn’t explain. Mom was wearing a dress too, but it was much more casual. Green, with a V-neck and flowy sleeves. Her long hair was styled sleek and straight.

“You look like a princess,” Harris told me. “Except your lips should be pink.”

Marcus came out of his room in a cloud of cologne. He wore brown pants, a collared polo shirt, and a sports jacket.

“Am I underdressed?” he asked, tugging on his shirt. “I thought you said this was fine.”

“You’re fine,” Mom said. “We’re all fine. Should we go?”

Mom led the way down the hall followed by Momma and Harris.

Marcus gave me a suspicious stare. “Are you sneaking away mid-party?”

I rolled my eyes and said in a low voice, “No, I’m not. I chose you tonight, thank you very much.”

“As you should’ve.” He elbowed me.

I elbowed him back. “Whatever.”

We grabbed our coats off the hooks by the front door. I didn’t have one dressy enough for this outfit, but I pulled on my black puffer anyway because it was cold outside.

“I forgot something,” Marcus said. “I’ll meet you all in the car.”

“What did you forget?” I asked.

“I’ll tell you later,” he said.

Did he have a gift for Mom? Or her boss? Was I supposed to do that? I’d been so distracted that it wouldn’t surprise me if I’d missed some detail like that.

The cold night air seemed to freeze the lipstick onto my lips as we stepped outside. We were leaving extra early to account for the neighborhood traffic.

My phone buzzed in my clutch, and I waited until we were sitting in the car to pull it out.

I knew you’d look amazing in that dress.

Ryan’s text was followed by a mirror selfie of him in a tux, his mask dangling from the end of the phone he was holding to take the picture. My breath caught.

“What’s wrong?” Mom asked, turning in her seat.

I must’ve made an audible sound. Harris leaned over to look at my phone, and I put it facedown in my lap.

“Nothing.”

Marcus climbed into the car, keeping the rest of our family from pressing me any further. He wasn’t holding anything, so I had no idea what he’d gone back for. He didn’t meet my eyes even though I knew he felt me staring at him. I gave a frustrated grunt as Momma started the car, and I stared out the window, taking in the decorations, as we left the neighborhood. They were the only thing brightening my mood right now.