Daddy Dearest

Chapter Thirty-Three

Melody
 

It’s the Friday before the big school dance the next night, so everyone at school who can attend (juniors and seniors) is freaking out like it’s   Christmas. Nothing exciting ever happens at our school, so I guess this is why they’re all super excited. I, for one, am thrilled that the soda fountain at the canteen now has a mango flavor.

Nancy and I went to the mall last week to find a dress for me to wear, but I wasn’t really feeling the one we bought because it looked too “high school prom” and I wanted something more edgy. Two days before the dance, I went with Mrs. D and Lottie to the mall in Sherman Oaks to go look at some dresses because Lottie decided last minute that she hated the one she already has, too. She's going with Steve Mason, so it’s kind of a big deal.

Nancy gave me her Chase Sapphire card, but warned me to buy something within reason. Oh, sure, but what does that mean? We visited a few stores, but couldn't find anything, although Lottie had a couple of “maybes” she might go back for.

We’d decided we needed a Boba Tea break when we walked past a Tadashi Shoji store and I saw the most exquisite gown on a mannequin. I literally just stopped and Lottie almost crashed into me.

“My word,” Mrs. D murmured. “That is gorgeous. Maybe a little too mature for you, though, Melly?”

I don’t really like the nickname “Melly.” It’s a little too close to “smelly” for my comfort.

I tossed my hair back and propped my hands on my waist. “I’m almost eighteen. Would it violate the dress code?”

Our headmistress stared at the gown once more. “I’d have to see it on you, dear. Perhaps on a taller person, it would be nigh indecent.”

I lifted my nose in the air. “Well, it’s a good thing I’m petite.” I marched into the store and imperiously demanded to be shown the gown on display. Just kidding. I asked nicely. I’m not a bitch.

The red and gold gown was strapless with a stiff bodice made of brocade with a satin lining, attached to layers of flouncy chiffon and organza skirts in shades of red and pink. It was shorter in the front—the longest of the skirts came down an inch above the knees—but at the back, it nearly reached the ankles. It was sooo pretty. Seven-thousand-dollars pretty. 

Though disheartened, I tried it on anyway, but I really shouldn’t have because it fit like a dream and when I went outside to show Mrs. D and Lottie, Alex just happened to be there, too. He said he was shopping with his mom.

The look on his face was very gratifying. He just stared at me, completely agog and dreamy-eyed, and I just got all melty inside.

Mrs. D and Lottie were like, “Awww…”

“Are you going to get it?” Mrs. D asked.

Embarrassed, I showed Mrs. D the price tag. Her green eyes widened and she grimaced. Lottie said, “Holy shitsnacks.”

The saleslady looked at me. “Miss?”

I started to shake my head. “I don’t think—”

Alex held out his credit card. “Charge it to this.”

The clerk looked bemused. “Sir, should I apprise you of the price first?”

Alex blinked. “Why?” He held out his card again. It was black.

The clerk took it, raised her eyebrows, and said, “Right away, sir.”

I smacked his arm. “Why did you do that? Are you crazy? This is a seventy-five-hundred-dollar dress.” I picked up the skirts and shook them.