I slid the metal hanger aside, careful not to touch the black fabric, and pulled out the garment buried in the very back of the closet-the prom dress that my mom and I had bought the weekend before she'd died.
It was a curious shade, somewhere between purple and gray-that same soft violet color that my mom always teasingly claimed my eyes were. The gown had a kind of Greek goddess vibe to it-cap sleeves with a high empire waist and a long, flowing skirt. Silver sequins ran across the dress in a slim band where the waist was and rimmed the circular neck, adding a bit of soft shine to it.
I drew in a breath, pulled out the dress, and brushed my fingers against the fabric.
There were no weak feelings, no faint flashes, associated with the dress. Instead, all at once, I was assaulted with images. Mom and me laughing in the food court at the mall over the chocolate milk shakes we'd ordered for lunch. The two of us flipping through rack after rack of dresses, trying to find just the right one. Always coming up empty, but still having a good time together. Mom deciding to try a little boutique she knew across town as a last resort. And finally, the look on my mom's face when she'd spied this dress and shown it to me.
I closed my eyes and concentrated, trying to bring the images into even sharper focus. My fingers stroked the silken fabric of the dress, and I breathed in, almost imagining that I could smell the sweet, soft lilac perfume that my mom had always worn. I'd liked it so much that she'd given me a bottle of it for my last birthday, but I hadn't worn it since she'd died. It just reminded me of how much I missed her.
Slowly, the waves of feeling and the images started to fade, the way they sometimes did with an object like this. If they weren't used, or in this case worn, emotions and feelings leaked out of items over time, like water dripping out of a cup with a hole in the bottom of it, until there was nothing left. Sometimes, the old images were imprinted with new thoughts, feelings, and emotions as new experiences were had or new people used the object in question. Sometimes, they just faded away altogether, leaving nothing behind but faint echoes of who and what had been before.
I started to put the dress back in the closet, but the images that I'd just seen, the feelings that I'd just experienced, wouldn't let me.
Maybe it was the way I'd felt when I'd first tried it on, like I'd be the prettiest girl at the sophomore prom. Maybe it was the smile on my mom's face when she'd seen the dress, when she realized how perfect it would look on me. Maybe it was knowing that a little piece of her that I'd thought I'd lost forever had been right here hanging in my closet the whole time.
But suddenly I wanted to go to the homecoming dance, and I wanted to wear this dress, if for no other reason than it would have made my mom happy. Grandma Frost was right. It was time to start living again.
Morgan had said the same thing about Jasmine, that that's what Jasmine would have wanted everyone to do after her death. Except in my mom's case I knew that it was true, that it was what Grace Frost would have wanted for me, her daughter.
I could feel it in the fabric of the perfect dress that she'd bought for me.
And I realized that's what I wanted, too.
So I slipped the dress off the hanger and put it on the bed. The sequins winked up at me like eyes, each one blinking with encouragement.
"Here goes nothing," I muttered, unzipping my hoodie and letting it fall to the floor.
Chapter 18
By the time I got ready, it was after eight, which meant the dance had been going on for an hour already. I'd missed the part where the homecoming king and queen would be announced for each class, the couples the other students had voted for two weeks ago. But like Morgan had said, who else was it going to be in our second-year class besides her and Samson now that Jasmine was gone?
I stared at myself in the mirror in the bathroom. Violet dress and eyes, wavy brown hair loose around my shoulders, freckles splashed across my winter white skin. I didn't look like a beautiful fairy princess like Daphne had, but at least I didn't come off as a total slut like Morgan either. I didn't know what I was, other than that Gypsy girl who saw things. But I was determined to have a good time tonight-or at least fake it well enough so that no one else would know the difference but me.
I left my dorm and walked across the campus quad. Everyone else was already at the dining hall, so the quad was even more deserted than before. A cold breeze gusted across the lawn, bringing the fall chill with it, along with the faintest bite of winter. I wrapped my arms around myself, wishing that I'd thought to grab a coat before I'd left my room, but I didn't want to go back for one now. If I did, I doubted that I'd make the effort to come back and go to the dance at all.
Finally, I reached the dining hall. The front doors were open, the light spilling outside and banishing some of the shadows. Several students stood around the entrance, a few of them taking drags off cigarettes or something stronger when they thought no one was looking. Some kids were drinking, too, and the sour stench of beer mingled with the clouds of sweet, choking smoke.
I walked past the other students and went inside. To my surprise, the dining hall had been completely transformed since lunchtime. The usual round lunch tables were gone, replaced by a single long banquet table that stretched down the left wall. Crimson and pumpkincolored autumn leaves twined with greenery and baby's breath clustered around an enormous ice sculpture shaped like a giant cornucopia. Candles also flickered on the banquet table, highlighting the gourmet food that covered the surface. More leaves and greenery hung from the ceiling, along with strings of silver and gold lights that bathed the area in a soft, romantic glow. Even I had to admit that it was all very classy, very elegant, and very beautiful.
I'd missed the harvest ritual, which had been held before the dance had started, but I could see the remnants of it. Tall bronze rods topped with beeswax candles burned in the open-air garden, and golden bowls full of fresh-picked grapes, oranges, almonds, and olives sat at the feet of the various statues of the gods there, including Dionysus and Demeter. Everything in the garden seemed to have a warm bronze tinge to it tonight, including the goblets full of wine that had been placed next to the bowls of fruits and nuts, and the air smelled sharp and sweet, like citrus. I waited a moment, wondering if I'd feel the same kind of invisible force that I had at the bonfire last night. But whatever presence that might have been summoned by the ritual had vanished already. I let out a breath. No more magic mumbo jumbo tonight. Good.
I didn't know how many students went to Mythos, but it looked like every single one of them had shown up for the dance. Couples wearing glittering gowns and tuxedos held on to each other and swayed back and forth on the dance floor. Some sat at the tables that had been set up on the far side of the hall, kissing, giggling, and whispering into each other's ears. Others clustered around the food table, dipping strawberries and other fresh fruits into a dark chocolate fountain that spewed out a never-ending stream of warm, gooey goodness. I even saw a few kids eating the caviar that had been put out as part of the buffet. Yucko.