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I nearly snorted at his serious tone, peering up into his eyes. “No one’s going to judge.”
“Really?”
“Well, they’ll probably judge, but who cares?”
Harry ducked his head closer at that, a whisper of a laugh tickling my ear.
Even though this dance was drastically different from our first dance at Downtown, I found my eyes fluttering shut as I basked in the moment. Harry’s hand was light at my waist, holding me closer. As if I’d stray far.
I could almost pretend like it was just us on this dance floor, like no one else in the entire country club existed. Just him and me underneath the golden chandelier lights, dressed our best, in a fairytale of a moment.
Harry turned me in a slow circle, moving in time with the beat of the song. “How come Margot doesn’t—what was the word she used—mingle?”
“She doesn’t really like these things. Everyone treats her differently, just because she doesn’t fit in. At least,theysay she doesn’t fit in.” It wasn’t something I noticed until we met in our junior year. All the attendees treated her differently from me; they weren’t nearly as welcoming, as conversational. It was almost as if they saw me as an easier mark or something. “I wish people leftmealone in the corner.”
His velvety gaze lingered on my mouth. “You don’t belong in a corner.”
“You say things like that.” I shook my head, feeling my cheeks flush. “It makes me want to kiss you.”
“Your parents are around here somewhere,” he murmured, voice low enough to send a shiver across my skin. “Might want to keep things G-rated.”
That was the only thing that held me back. And barely, at that.
“Destelle! There you are.” I turned to find Mr. Marty Ricker, graying hair cut cleanly, and wearing a pinstripe suit, coming up behind Harry. “Your parents weren’t sure you were here yet. I’ve been meaning to—oh. I didn’t realize you were with someone.”
Mr. Ricker had faltered when Harry stepped closer to me, and the former’s eyes looked distrustfully at the unknown party. “Mr. Ricker, it’s lovely to see you. This is my boyfriend.”
“Harrison,” Harry responded, giving the elder a firm handshake. “Great to meet you.”
Mr. Ricker didn’t respond right away, as if he were trying to gauge whether, in fact, itwasgreat to meet him. Ultimately, he turned to me, animating immediately. “Destelle, I’ve been wanting to talk to you about your scholarship application. The future plans category, in fact. You should’ve told me you planned on becoming a lawyer—all the grand conversations we could’ve had.”
I felt Harry shift at my side, but I didn’t glance over. “It only seems natural, given the role models I have. Having a father and mother both involved in the judicial system—well, it only makes sense to follow in their footsteps.”
It had been the speech that Mom gave to me as she suggested her answer for that scholarship question. I’d written it down, if only to appease her in that moment. But now, with Harry over my shoulder, I felt like the world’s biggest hypocrite.
“Of course, of course,” Mr. Ricker murmured, and then his gaze trailed off to my side. “So, Harrison—what’s your dream career path?”
“Music,” he answered, and I couldn’t help but hear how formal his voice sounded now.
“Harrison’s in the industry, in fact,” I told Mr. Ricker, pressing a hand along my boyfriend’s chest. The suit underneath was stiff. “He’s got a bright future ahead of him.”
“Ah, music. How lovely.” Mr. Ricker’s face didn’t seem to agree with his words, though, from the pinched lines near his eyes. “Well, Destelle, perhaps we can meet for lunch one day and discuss your application at length. I shouldn’t say this, but you’re at the top for our choosing.”
No, I wanted to say.Take me off your list. I don’t want it.“I’ll look at my upcoming schedule and we’ll plan it, Mr. Ricker.”
With one last chuckle, he ventured away from us, off to find someone else to mingle with. Distantly, I wondered if he gave anyone else that same speech.You’re at the top for our choosing. It wouldn’t have surprised me.
“Look at you, you’re a natural.” When I turned to Harry, I found his eyes trailing after Mr. Ricker, something like that dang shadow from before lingering in his gaze now. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” He glanced down at me, eyes holding a good amount of uncertainty. “Everything’s okay.”
“Well, lookie here.”
I turned to find Nancy making her way up to us. She dressed her best tonight, red hat perched delicately on her head. She’d put on lipstick for the occasion, a bright red that made her skin seem pale. “Ms. Nancy,” I greeted, raising my voice a little in case she couldn’t hear over the music. “Looking lovely as ever.”
Nancy’s eyes lifted to me before immediately shifting to Harry. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at him closely, almost scrutinizing. Harry, though, didn’t let it faze him, and he offered a hand out. “I’m Harrison, ma’am.”
“Ma’am,” she spat, but fire danced in her eyes. “How old do I look to you?”
