Slowly, slowly, my breathing began to calm down. I heard him mutter, “Peur de la merde de moi; je vais avoir une crise cardiaque, un de ces jours,” which I didn’t understand at all, but it sounded very lyrical and soothing. Then there was more muttering and rustling of sheets and I was being tucked very carefully into Adrian’s very warm body and I murmured something like, “You speak French?” and then I was out again.
I swam through murky un-dreams for a few hours, heavy and a little restless, and when I surfaced back to consciousness, I expected to find myself alone. But I wasn’t. I was lying on my side with Adrian’s arm wrapped around my waist, his face pressed into my neck, his legs tangled up with mine. He was still there. And he was asleep, breathing so quietly that I could feel his unnaturally slow heartbeat against my back. He stirred, rubbed his face against my neck, tightened his arms around my waist, and settled.
It still amazed me how much I loved him.
*
“For Pete’s sake, Meghan; that’s the eighth dress you’ve tried on—I’ve been counting.”
“Hold your friggin’ horses,” came the reply from behind the dressing room door. In the next stall over, Jenny was helping Stephanie with the zipper on the back of her off-white dress while Stephanie stood on her tiptoes and sucked in her stomach muttering the word pictures over and over again. The door flung open and Meghan stepped out in a low-cut, red satin dress.
“We’ve got a winner!” Trish said, giving her a thumbs-up.
“A winner with a chunky price tag,” Meghan muttered.
Trish flipped the label and sucked in a breath. “Oooh.”
“Winter formal comes but once a winter, however, and I have been saving.”
Trish stared at her. “You—saving? Money?”
“I know, I know; Jesus must be coming back or something. Anyway, I’ve got enough to cover it.”
“There!” I heard Stephanie squeak from her stall as Jenny finally got the zipper all the way up.
“Can you breathe?” Laura asked, peeking over her stall door.
“I don’t need to breathe, I just need to get through the pictures. And I’ll be losing weight before the dance.”
Stephanie was popping out of her dress a bit in the chest area, which was rather scandalous for her, but on the whole she looked really nice. It was a creamy, off-white chiffon with a deep V-neck and a small trail. She kinda looked like a Greek goddess.
“Come on, Laura; what you got?” Trish said, waving at Laura who was peeking out from behind her door. She grimaced, disappeared, and then the door swung open and she was standing in front of us in a deep, plum-colored, square-necked halter with a side tuck that went halfway up her thigh.
“Yes,” Trish said, granting her approval.
“You think?” Laura asked, looking doubtful.
“Definitely. Dan won’t know what hit him.”
Laura smiled, caught herself, scowled, and headed back into the dressing room. Trish had already bought a black dress at the last store, which amplified her naturally impressive bosom. I was sitting on a little plastic footstool thing in the hallway, watching the hubbub with a happy, tired sort of amusement.
“Are you going to try anything on?” Jenny asked me.
I shook my head. “I already got my dress. I’m just here for moral support.” I noticed her hands were empty, and I couldn’t remember her trying anything on in the past six stores we’d been to. “What about you? Are you getting anything?”
She shrugged, and I could tell she was upset.
“Hey,” I said, standing, “you’ve gotta try at least one dress on.”
“There’s nothing I like,” she said simply.
I grabbed her by the arms and made her sit. “Let me pick something out. I guarantee you’ll like it.”
She rolled her eyes but didn’t protest. I darted through the clothing racks, not entirely sure what I was looking for other than something in a deep, rich color. Jenny was too pale for pastel. And then— “Get in there,” I said, hauling her into an empty stall and handing the dress in after. I stood there for a good five minutes while Jenny muttered what might have been obscenities, but it was Jenny, so I couldn’t hear her half the time anyway. By now, everyone else had changed back into their regular clothes and was waiting for the big reveal. Finally, the little metal door handle squealed and swung open.
I raised my hand, which Trish immediately slapped in a slo-mo high five. “I win.”
Jenny scowled, clearly uncomfortable being the center of attention. I pulled her into the hall and stood her in front of the three-way mirror.
Damn. I was good.
Remembering how amazing her New Year’s Eve dress had looked on her, I’d chosen a deep blue, floor-length dress. In place of sleeves, it had a dozen thin straps on either shoulder that met at the waist in the back.
“Oh, Jenny, you look gorgeous,” Stephanie said, the last to step out of her dressing room.
Jenny stared at the mirror. “I look naked.”
“There’s plenty of material in the front,” Trish scoffed. “All in favor of Jenny buying this dress, say ‘aye.’ It counts for two votes if you say it like a pirate.”