Reeve and I have always done everything together.
I don’t know how to exist without him.
I’m sure shrinks the world over would have a field day with that statement, but I’m not going to deny I feel helpless and directionless without him by my side. I didn’t realize I had become so dependent on him or that I would flounder so deeply without his guiding light. I know it’s not a healthy thing. That I need to exist separately from my relationship and assume my own identity and my own path in life.
Suddenly, I’m embarrassed by my own thoughts. I’m a talented, smart, independent, beautiful woman, and I don’t need my boyfriend to survive. Yes, I will miss him to the very depths of my soul tonight, but I can’t let his absence destroy another special night. I owe it to myself to go to prom and have the best possible night.
“I’ll send you pictures, and I’ll try my best to enjoy prom even if I’ll be missing you every second of every minute of the night.”
12
I plant a wide smile on my face as I pose beside Audrey while Alex snaps a few pics. Mom already took some at the house, which I sent to Reeve, and he replied with a quick message telling me I looked gorgeous and he was proud of me. I almost broke down in tears when the stunning corsage he ordered was delivered. He chose white roses decorated with pretty diamante stones encased with red ribbon. Little swatches of greenery add an extra bit of color, and it looks elegant on my wrist.
“You two are, hands down, the hottest babes in the room,” Alex says, sliding his cell in the pocket of his dress pants. “I’m no expert, but you did a fucking amazing job with the dresses, Viv. You are very talented.”
“Thanks, Alex.” I am really pleased with how both dresses turned out. I’m wearing a high-necked, sleeveless, figure-hugging, floor-length red dress. It’s a pretty classic design except for the few sequined strips—around my neck, edging my breasts, and running from the curve of my hips to the floor—and the open back which showcases my skin and a subtle hint of side boob. Audrey opted for a halter-neck gown in deep purple with a fitted top and full skirt. Alex is wearing a tie in the same color, and he and Audrey make a striking couple.
“I know you’ve decided to major in English rather than costume design, but I totally think you should set up a side business designing dresses,” Audrey suggests, taking a sip of the spiked punch.
I’m sticking to nonalcoholic cocktails because I want to avoid another drink-fueled disaster. “I’m considering doing a costume design course after I graduate with my degree,” I confess, but nothing is set in stone. I’m passionate about writing and dress designing, and while it makes sense that I’ll build a career in the movie industry, I’m still exploring all my options.
“Do you think they did all this for Reeve?” Alex waves his hands around the extravagant ballroom.
“Probably,” Audrey agrees.
Prom is being held in a top five-star hotel, and the prom committee spared no expense transforming the ballroom into a Hollywood-themed backdrop. It’s so cliché, and the irony isn’t lost on me either. Walking the red carpet, getting accosted by “paparazzi” as we arrived, being surrounded by movie props, a large golden Oscar trophy, and the myriad of classic movie posters framed around the walls all serve to remind me of my enemy. Because that’s who Hollywood represents to me tonight.
Hollywood has stolen my Prince Charming, and I’m like a lost Cinderella wandering aimlessly around the room while everyone around me parties hard. I’m trying to put a brave face on, but I’m struggling. Watching couples sway on the dance floor is especially difficult, because that should be Reeve and me. “You two should dance,” I say, swiping Audrey’s drink. I push her toward Alex. They open their mouths to protest, but I don’t give them the opportunity. “Go on. I don’t need you to chaperone me all night.” I flash them my brightest smile, only letting it go once they have hit the dance floor and they are satisfied I’m not going to fall apart.
I glance at my cell, grateful it’s almost eleven. I’m hoping I can make my escape in an hour or so and retreat to the sanctity of my bedroom. Removing my locket from underneath the top of my dress, I rub my fingers over it, wishing it was a genie’s lamp and I could summon Reeve as one of my three wishes.
A guy from the football team approaches and asks me to dance, but I decline, like I’ve declined the other couple of guys who asked me. While most everyone came with a date, a lot are just friends, and it’s clear there are plenty of single guys on the prowl. Even if it was innocent, there is no way I’m dancing at prom with anyone but Reeve.