She smiled in that slow, cruel way people do when they want to hurt you.
“Well,” she said, “that explains everything.”
“Enough,” I said.
Melissa leaned against the wall like she was enjoying a show.
“Oh, this is great. You’re going to prom dressed in old jeans like some kind of charity project, and you think people will applaud?”
I looked straight at her.
“I’d rather wear something made with love than something bought with money stolen from kids.”
The hallway went completely silent.
Her expression hardened.
“Get out of my sight before I really say what I think.”
But I wore the dress anyway.
On prom night Ethan helped zip the back. His hands were shaking.
“Hey,” I said.
“What?”
“If someone laughs, I’m haunting them forever.”
He cracked a small smile. “Good.”
continue to the next page.”
