Chapter 3

One sweltering afternoon at the diner, I was rushing an order.

Jessica Miller walked in, looking cool and perfect as always.

She didn't see me, turned too quickly, and her arm knocked a full tray from my hands.

A chocolate milkshake went flying, all over my white work uniform.

"Oh my gosh, Sarah, I am so, so sorry!" Jessica exclaimed, her face flushed.

She grabbed a fistful of napkins, trying to dab at the sticky brown mess.

"It's okay," I mumbled, though it wasn't. My shift was almost over, and the annual town dance was tonight. I had nothing else clean to wear.

"No, it's not okay! Look at you," Jessica said, genuinely upset. "My house is just around the corner. Come on, I have a new dress, I haven't even worn it. It would look great on you. Please, let me make it up to you."

I hesitated. A dress from Jessica Miller?

But my uniform was ruined, and I didn't want to miss the dance. Mom had encouraged me to go, to try and have some fun.

"Okay," I agreed reluctantly.

At Jessica's house, she pulled out a beautiful blue dress.

It was simple, elegant, and surprisingly, it fit me perfectly.

"Wow, Sarah, you look amazing," Jessica said, clapping her hands. "Mark just bought this for me for tonight, but honestly, it looks better on you. You have to wear it."

Mark bought it for her.

My stomach twisted.

But I thanked her, feeling strange.

Later, at the town hall, the music was loud. I saw Mom give me an encouraging smile from across the room.

I was trying to feel normal, trying to enjoy myself.

Then Mark saw me.

He was standing with Jessica, his arm around her waist.

His eyes scanned over me, then widened.

He dropped his arm from Jessica and strode towards me, his face like a storm cloud.

"What do you think you're doing?" he hissed, loud enough for people nearby to turn.

I flinched. "What are you talking about?"

"That dress," he pointed. "That's Jessica's dress. The one I bought her for tonight. Are you so jealous you had to steal it?"

The accusation, so public, so venomous, hit me hard.

Tears pricked my eyes.

"Mark, stop it!" Jessica rushed over, grabbing his arm. "I lent Sarah the dress. I spilled a milkshake all over her uniform. It was my fault."

Mark looked from Jessica to me, his anger slowly fading, replaced by a flicker of something else. Annoyance?

He didn't apologize to me.

He just grumbled, "Oh. Well, you should have told me."

He turned back to Jessica, pulling her close again, dismissing me completely.

The blue dress suddenly felt like a costume of shame.

It wasn't about the dress. It was about what he thought of me.

That I was capable of stealing, that I was that desperate, that jealous.

He saw the worst in me, instantly.

The music played on, but the night was ruined.

I saw the pity in some people's eyes, the amusement in others.

I wanted to disappear.