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“I don’t care. Shut it.”
She gasps, clapping her hands together. “Do you have something to wear to the dance?”
I cringe, zipping up my backpack. “What’s the big deal? Caleb asked me the same thing. Does it really matter?”
“Does it really matter?” She shakes her head. “Oh Becca, you sweet ignorant peasant. How often do you get the excuse to dress up? I’d sell my left kidney on the black market if I could go to more dances.”
“I’d prefer to keep my kidneys, thank you very much.”
Her hand shoots out to mine. “Please let me take you shopping. I know you hate it, but don’t you want to find something special for Caleb?”
Heat rises to my ears.
She bounces her thick red eyebrows at me. “Don’t you?”
“Fine.”
She squeals, legs kicking me under the table. “You won’t regret it. Well, you might a little, but I swear it’ll be worth it.” She jumps up, circling the table and yanking me out of the chair.
“What are you doing?”
“We’re going shopping before you have a chance to back out,” she says, pushing me from behind.
“But the dance is so far away.”
“What? It’s only a couple of weeks away. It’ll be here before you know it. Besides, I have my big math test next week, so I’ll be too busy to go then.”
My feet are made out of lead, not wanting to move forward but also unable to counteract Sadie’s momentum. They stubble forward, not entirely by choice.
“I know the perfect store. Trust me,” she says.
Within minutes, I’m strapped into the passenger side of Sadie’s car. I clutch the seatbelt for dear life as she pulls her old rickety sedan out of the parking lot.
“Are you sure this car is safe?”
She pats the dash. “Of course. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: Bessie here is stronger than she looks.”
Sadie is known for naming not just her own cars, but everyone else’s too. She named my brother’s car Bruce because it was white and reminded her of a shark. She named mine Stella because she said it looked like a petite princess. I refuse to adopt that name, though. I’m not the princess type no matter how many times Sadie has tried to convert me. Even today, I’m sure she’ll try to dress me up in the frilliest and sparkliest dresses possible.
“Oh, I love this song,” she says, turning the music up. “It’s not too loud, is it?”
I shake my head. “It’s fine.”
It’s nice that she asked. So many people forget that abrupt loud noises bother me, but she didn’t. It’s those little things that remind me she used to be such a big part of my life. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss it.
My rough personality is a turn off to most people, but Sadie never took it personally. She accepted my brash remarks and sarcastic tone with open arms, chalking it up to dark humor—which she found entertaining.
As we sit in the car, I relax and let go of the seatbelt. Even the faint reminders of Ethan don’t seem to bother me right now.
There’s a heart keychain hanging from the mirror that he gave her. There’s also a pen mark on the dash from when he was writing while Sadie drove, and Sadie took a sharp turn, making his pen jerk off course.
I smile as I remember the look of horror in his eyes. “I marked Bessie,” he said, lifting the pen. The car wasn’t new by any means, but she had only had it for a week.
Sadie cringed. “If I don’t look over, then it didn’t happen.”
“I can fix it,” Ethan said, rubbing his sleeve over it.
It only made it worse, smearing the ink.
