Brighter Than the Stars

Nicole - Proud

"Ow, Annabelle, you stabbed me!" Annabelle rolled her eyes, her mouth full of pins (something she'd frequently warned Clara not to do, but did herself) and took in the dress in another section. Annabelle loved a party of any kind, but particularly one where she could dress up–or dress up other people. I was her most frequent victim, unfortunately. We never agreed, either; she wanted frills, I didn't, she wanted more bows and ribbons, I would've gone in the plainest, least time consuming, cheapest dress possible. Sure, I liked dresses–I kept my blue one in my closet, and just touched it sometimes, but I didn't like being made to feel like a doll. Half the time, once Annabelle was done, I didn't feel like myself.

"Alright." Annabelle sighed. "Go take it off–careful of the pins–and bring it back to me. I'll finish it tonight." I obediently hopped down and ducked behind the dressing screen, switching out the dress for my usual trousers and shirt. I popped back out and handed the dress to Annabelle, glad there were no longer pins stuck into me. "You," Annabelle said, as she set the dress aside, "can be more difficult and stubborn than James."

"I'm not!" I protested.

"Not what?" Leo asked, as he walked into the room.

"Difficult and stubborn," Annabelle said. "Tell her she is."

"Difficult, no; stubborn, yes."

"Traitor," I muttered. He just smiled and wrapped his arms around me, resting his cheek against the top of my head.

"So be it. What are you two doing? Zoe's been looking for you both for probably a half hour." He glanced around the room. "Is this all for tomorrow's ball? Can I see–"

"No," Annabelle said firmly. "You cannot. You can see it tomorrow, when it's finished and on her–even if I have to tie her down to get it on her in the first place." She shot me another glare and I made a face back. "In the meantime, it's pink–a paler pink, not obnoxious, so go find a tie and complain about it less than Nicole."

"I don't complain that much! Only when you stabbed me, and that was justified–"

"Not really, you could suck it up–"

"And I did–"

"Okay, okay, enough," Leo said. He moved his hand to my waist. "Annabelle, are you staying up to finish?" She nodded, her mouth already filled with pins again. "I'll tell Zoe and get this monster out of your way." I glared at him and was about to protest, but, before I could, he steered me out of the room.

"You're mean," I muttered. He pulled me closer in a one-armed hug.

"Oh, well. I guess I'll have to live with that, then." He bent to kiss the top of my head. "About that night, Nicole–"

"No," I said firmly. I knew what he meant–of course I knew what he meant–but I had no desire to discuss it. "Nothing happened; nothing important, anyway. I'm good and happy enough, and I don't want to think about it." The fragments of my mirror, which I'd slipped into the pocket of my pants as if I needed to keep an eye on it before it got worse, brushed against my leg just then. Slowly, I removed them and held them out; little bits of glass and the cover, which had been a pattern of stars with my name, but had been reduced to smashed bits where you were lucky if you could spot a letter. "'Cept there's this."

Leo took it from me gingerly. "This is glass. You're going to hurt yourself with this." Carefully, he slipped it into his own pocket. "I can get you another one." He glanced at me and, catching my expression, said, "Really, Nicole. It's no big deal."

"I didn't mean to!" I burst out. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, Nicole." He pulled me closer to him and wrapped his arms around me. "I know you didn't. It was even you. It can be replaced, if that's what you want, no problem."