To Love or Be Loved

03| a little spilt champagne

"I'll drink your champagne. I'll drink every drop of it. I don't care if it kills me." - F. Scott Fitzgerald

I was still angry later when Olivia came over to help me pick out an outfit. She spent the better half of an hour rummaging through my closet, throwing out things left and right while I silently fumed in the corner. My room soon looked like a tornado blew around, and I noticed that one of my bras were hanging off the closet door. Finally, exhausted and fed up, she turned to me with a frown.

"You have nothing to wear in there," she said, pointing at the empty space behind her.

"That's why I called you over," I groaned. "You were supposed to help me find something!"

Liv stared at me for several seconds, the wheels turning in her head a mile a minute. Suddenly, she flew out my door like a bat out of hell. All I could do was stare at the space where she had been moments ago in shock. What the hell was she doing?

She was gone for maybe five minutes before she returned, an item of clothing in hand. It was one of my mother's and I frowned, not quite sure if I had ever seen her wear it before. It was a floor length black dress with a sweetheart neckline. The top half was bedazzled, causing me to scrunch up my nose in distaste. I wasn't one for jewels, not to mention it probably wouldn't even fit.

Deciding at least trying it on couldn't hurt anyone, I took it from Olivia. It took me a bit to shimmy my way into it, but once I did, I was more than pleased. It complimented me so well, I couldn't believe I was hesitant to even try it on. The jewels on the top didn't bother me at all, surprisingly. It had slits up the side that caused a slight blush to rise to my cheeks. It was so different from my usual high waisted jeans and oversized sweaters that I was having a hard time recognizing myself.

"You look like a complete babe," Olivia said, a bright smile on her face. She handed me a pair of heels she had previously thrown across the room. They were simple and black, a complete contrast to the shiny top of my dress.

"You're not going with us this time?" I asked, slipping them on. I wondered how long would it take for me to regret my decision to wear them. Half an hour maybe?

"No, I'm sorry," she said, flashing me a devilish grin. "I wouldn't want to steal anymore men from their wives."

With that she left, leaving me with a bewildered expression on my face. I straightened up from my previous bent position with a sigh, deciding that for one night I wouldn't think of Carter James. It couldn't be that hard, could it? It was only one night and he was only one boy.

I made my way downstairs, hoping to get this night over with. I still wasn't sure why I even had to go tonight seeing as my dad wasn't even town. All those people we'd be seeing tonight were his people, and despite the fact my mom could be more elegant than half the woman there, that fact would never change.

When I arrived in the living room, I wasn't surprised to see my mom pacing back and forth in a beautiful gold dress that made her look like a real life Belle. What did surprise me was that in her had was a glass of what I assumed to be whiskey.

"Mom?" I called, trying to get her attention. Her head snapped up and her gaze met my own with a small smile. "Why are you drinking already?"

Her amber eyes stared at the brown liquid, swishing it around a few times. "I'm not drinking it. It just reminds me of your father. Though I'm sure he'd be pissed to see me wasting his good whiskey."

I nodded solemnly, remembering that every time we had a party like this, he'd drink one glass to calm his nerves. He hated going to these as much as we did, but he tried his best not to show it. I was sure that aside from my mom and I, no one knew.