Pretty Girl - Steven Conklin

11

The day we'd all been waiting for had finally arrived. The Debutante Ball was the highlight of the summer for everyone in the neighborhood, and for Belly, it felt like the culmination of everything. She had her dress picked out and looked absolutely stunning. Her nerves were a little on edge, though. She and Cam had ended things quietly after that night by the pool. I hadn't asked her about it. She didn't want to talk about it, and frankly, I didn't know if I was ready to hear the details. Belly was still my best friend, but the space between us had started to feel a little wider lately.

I had no idea what I was doing with my dress. Shopping for myself didn't have the same thrill that it had for Belly. I wasn't in the mood to get all glammed up, but Mom insisted. She was excited about everything, and I didn't want to ruin it for her. The whole thing felt a little more like a distraction for me. The tension between the boys, their mother, and everything we were all carrying—it all felt like it was building up to something.

"Come on, Dee, just pick one," Mom urged as she pulled at a golden dress in the store. She was practically glowing with excitement. I couldn't help but smile, even though my heart wasn't fully in it.

I looked at the options in front of me. "I don't know, Mom. I think I'm good."

"It's all part of the fun. You can help Belly pick out her dress, and then you'll find one you like too," she said, twirling in front of the mirror, a reflection of her youthful energy.

I smiled at her, nodding, though my mind was elsewhere. Mom had always been the life of the party, even during moments when everything felt heavy. Maybe it was the way she was trying to distract herself too, but I couldn't blame her. If she wanted to enjoy this day for the sake of everyone, I could put my own discomfort aside.

As we sifted through racks, I caught a glimpse of Belly standing in front of a long, pink dress. She was deep in thought, staring at herself in the mirror, but there was something in her expression that told me she wasn't really seeing her reflection.

I approached her. "You okay?"

Belly glanced at me and smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Yeah, just... thinking."

I knew she wasn't fine. But I let it slide. She'd talk to me about it when she was ready.

Later that day, as we prepared for the ball, there was a special moment between Mom and me. We sat on the edge of the couch, just talking about life and the things that felt good. For a brief moment, it almost felt like we could forget about the weight we were carrying. I knew she could see it in my eyes, the way things had changed, but she didn't say anything. She just held my hand.

"You know, Dee, I'm so proud of you," Mom said, her voice soft and reassuring.

I squeezed her hand in return. "Thanks, Mom."

The night of the Debutante Ball arrived, and everything seemed to swirl around us in a haze. Belly and Cam arrived together, their chemistry still present but unmistakably strained. Belly wasn't herself, and neither was he. When the moment came, it was clear they'd ended it for good. Cam walked off with another girl, and Belly disappeared into the crowd, her face a mix of confusion and hurt.

I looked for JJ, but he wasn't anywhere to be found.

Jeremiah and I both made our way through the ballroom, keeping an eye on Belly, and keeping track of what was going on. It wasn't long before Belly pulled me aside and said, "I don't want to be here."

I nodded, knowing exactly how she felt. "You want me to take you home?"

"Maybe. Just not yet," she muttered, glancing toward the dance floor where Cam was. "Just... not yet."

Later that night, I found myself by the side of the ballroom, leaning against a pillar, watching everything unfold. Belly and Cam were a distant memory now, and the ball was more like a reminder of everything that had gone wrong. I tried to act like I was enjoying it, but I wasn't. I wasn't sure anyone was.

Jeremiah hadn't been around for a while, and I started to get the nagging feeling that something wasn't right. As I stood there, I caught sight of Mom and Susannah talking near the back, their voices low as they observed everything.

Then, just as I turned to look for Jeremiah again, my heart sank. I spotted him, walking quickly toward the back exit of the house. I knew something was off.

"Jeremiah!" I called, walking toward him. He didn't respond. I caught up with him just outside the ballroom. "Jeremiah, what's going on?"

He didn't answer right away. His face was pale, his eyes red-rimmed as if he had been crying. My stomach twisted.

"Jeremiah, what happened?" I asked again, my voice softer.

He turned, and I saw the email open in his hands. His fingers were trembling. "How are you so calm, Dee? Mom... she has cancer. She's... dying, Dee," he said, his voice breaking.