Sing Me To Sleep Part 8

The swan can swim

Beyond her deep bog.

Delicate petals escaping the storm

Beautiful prince who says

He' ll keep me warm-

"Beth-" Meadow's mom saves me from my insane thoughts.

She pulls me over to one of a half a dozen women with tape measures around their necks and pins in their mouths working on girls in the room. This one's got a bunch of pretty ruby fabric draped over her arm. Cranberry. If it were Christmas we could call it that. The fabric turns into my gown when she holds it up.

I step into it, put my arms through the short sleeves that are gathered at the shoulder, puff briefly, and then gather onto my arm a few inches later. I wriggle to get into it. Meadow's mom zips me up in back.

The gown is simple. Round neck-not low enough to show my bracreated cleavage, but my lovely clavicle is exposed. Empire waist-the bodice is gathered tight under my bustline, and the full skirt flares out from there. Nothing tight across the stomach. Terri's so practical. We can use our gut for breath support and not burst our seams. Or look fat. The whole effect, from the short feminine sleeves to the soft gathers that give me more bust, to the perfect drape of the richly colored fabric broadcasts elegance. If you cut off my head, I'd look amazing. It must be good from the back, too, with my perfectly cut, dyed, highlighted, flattened hair hanging down my back.

Meadow's mom claps her hands. "Meadow, come look at Beth! "

Meadow rushes over. "Take off your gla.s.ses, so we can get the full effect."

I obey. Her mom gasps. She's an artist seeing her creation for the first time.

The seamstress makes me step up on a stool and marks my hem. She walks around sticking pins here and there where the fit doesn't measure up.

I squint down at Meadow. "Is there a way I can unfriend that Amabile guy?"

"Don't you dare do that. I need access to his page to prepare my offensive."

"What if he wants to chat again?"

"Call me, and I'll tell you what to say. Better yet, send me as a friend suggestion."

"How?"

"Never mind. I'll do it."

Sarah calls down the stairs. "Too bad, Meadow. We found him, too. Looks like he's got a girlfriend. She's all over his profile."

"What's his status?" Meadow calls back up.

Leah replies, "Complicated."

Meadow smiles. "Perfect."

"Ouch." The seamstress just poked me instead of the side seam she meant to pin. I can't believe Meadow is going on like this. Her boyfriend is so hot. "You're going to break up over this Derek person?"

Meadow rolls her eyes at me. "Not yet. Don't be stupid. When I get together with Derek in Lausanne-"

She's so sure-so c.o.c.ky-exactly like him. They'll be perfect for each other.

"I can send Teddy a text calling things off."

"Won't a long-distance relationship be difficult?"

"I'll have the Porsche, silly. Maybe I'll bring him to driving school with me. I better get Daddy to make a reservation for him-just in case. What do you think, Mom?"

Meadow's mom absently agrees and sends Meadow up to get my purse and a couple more girls. They've got to get through eighty-and quickly so we can practice. The seamstress finishes and starts to unzip me.

"Not yet." Meadow's mom searches my bag, finds the untouched mulberry lip gloss-it's way too dark. I stick to the watermelon. She smears the rich wine goo on my lips, touches up my foundation and blush, goes at my eyes like the pro she is. She stands back. "The girls have got to see this. And it's only going to get better when your face finishes healing."

"We're going upstairs?"

"The girls need to see how our hard work has paid off."

Our hard work won't pay off until we're on the stage in Lausanne singing way better than those Amabile guys ever dreamed they could. "I need my gla.s.ses."

"No. I'll lead you."

"That's okay. I'm not blind." I hate that, though. Walking around in a blur. I wonder if they'll let me put my gla.s.ses on the whole time we're in Europe. The dress swishes as I mount the stairs. A few girls catch sight of me. "Look. Shhh. It's Beth," goes around the room. Meadow's mom, with a hand firmly in the center of my back, guides me up onto the stand.

Meadow appears beside me. "Well, girls, what do you think of our soloist?"

I only see their blurs, but I can feel it. The awe.

The voice of a younger girl blurts, "Can I have your autograph?"

That breaks the silence, and they mob me.

"You're beautiful, Beth."

"Look like a model."

"It's amazing."

I get giddy, overwhelmed, laugh and hug them, careful of the dress. Stressed that Meadow's mom will yell at me if it gets crushed. They can't be serious. Beautiful? Me? I really want to believe them. Believe this excitement that makes my heart go nuts in my chest. It can't be true, but the girls keep coming.

"I didn't know your eyes were that blue."

"You're going to be a star."

"You should do pageants next year."

Pageants? Get real. It's the dress. Just the dress.

After about fifty girls tell me it's true, I start to believe them a tiny bit. I just wish I could see the swan, too.

chapter 7.

FIXED.

Last night I had a nightmare. We are onstage in Lausanne. Everyone is stunning in her red choir gown, except me. All I have on is the satin slip. And Scott is in the middle of the audience, staring at me with that look on his face like last Thursday in the hall. If he doesn't get a girlfriend soon, I'm going to go nuts and attack him in the music room-friend or not. The Beast legend would be out of control after that.

Gather round little kiddies

And say your prayers.

Hike up your jammies

And skedaddle upstairs.

The Beast, she' ll be prowling

All through the night,

Hunting sweet laddies

Who look just right.

I don't know how I can feel like this. Scott is like a brother. We've been friends forever. I can't like him romantically, but I find myself noticing strange things. Like the shape of his shoulder. It's hot out this week, and he's wearing a wifebeater today, and I can't stop staring at his shoulder. It's not zitty like it used to be. And there's muscle on it.

He catches me in choir. "What?"

"Nothing." I force myself to keep my eyes focused on the boring music we're singing the whole rest of the period. Bolt at the bell.

"Beth."

I don't stop. "See ya, Scott. I'm kind of in a hurry." He doesn't know I'm sparing him a fate worse than death.

My cell vibrates, and I pull it out of my pocket, flip it open. "What, Meadow?"

"It's your mother."

"Sorry. I'm losing it today."