“I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.”
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My bed was a mess—tulle, satin, lip gloss tubes, bobby pins, an open box of tissues where I'd dabbed off too much glitter from my collarbone.
I stood in front of the full-length mirror in my bedroom, trying not to fidget. But that neckline—it wouldn’t stay where it was meant to. I kept inching it up with trembling fingers, cheeks hot and heart thumping.
Why does it feel like I’m naked?!
But Mama had insisted. And when Mama insists, resistance is futile.
She crouched before me now, one knee pressed into the carpet, slipping the white stiletto heels onto my feet as if I was Cinderella at some madcap Scottish ball.
“Don’t scrunch your toes, Ren,” she muttered, tapping my ankle. “And stop pulling at the neckline. You’ll ruin the tulle. It’s meant to sit just like that—soft, off-the-shoulder, a little tease.”
I froze. “A little what?”
Mama’s eyes sparkled devilishly as she straightened up. “A tease, darling. Boys fall like dominoes when they see that much collarbone.” She leaned in and gently nudged my hands away from my chest. “You’ve got nothing scandalous showing, sweetie. Just the barest whisper of ‘I’m not ten anymore.’”
I groaned, half hiding my face in my hands. “Mama…”
She laughed, the sound of it musical, wild, and utterly unbothered. “What? I’m just saying the truth! Let the boys trip and fall for you, yeah? Let Aadam see what he’s missing.”
My stomach somersaulted.
Of course this was all for him. I didn’t even want to go to the party. I didn’t even like parties. But Isla had been surprisingly sweet earlier today, returning my pen with a slightly embarrassed smile and an apology that felt real. And when she offered to pick me up for Freshers Night, I just… said yes.
Because maybe he’d be there. Maybe I’d get to talk to him again. Maybe he’d finally give me his number, instead of it coming through Mama via Amy.
I want him to give it to me himself. I want him to want me back.
Mama spun me around, facing me toward the mirror again. “Right. Lip gloss.” She clicked the tube open with a dramatic flourish and leaned in. “Open your mouth. Not that wide, darling, you’re not at the dentist. Just—soft, like you’re waiting for a kiss.”
