Take On Me

“American Lit. If you need any help…?” she yelled.

He definitely heard her that time, but his expression was unreadable. Crucially, though, he didn’t say no outright. She congratulated herself on at last getting through to him. He simply hadn’t understood her earlier offer, the one she’d made in class, before she’d…Well, obviously she could make up for all that now.

He leaned close.

“Sure, Sadie,” he said in her ear. “You can help me out with American Lit—but first you have to tell me something.”

She was awash with relief and excitement. She could feel his breath on her ear. And he was going to forgive her. She had a second chance to prove herself.

“Sure. What?”

He pointed to her chest.

“What the hell is that?”

Sadie glanced down—and froze. A glowing nimbus of white light was radiating out of the neckline of her dress. For a moment her mind went blank with horror, unable to comprehend what she was seeing. Then she realized that the bleached tissue she’d stuffed down her dress was responding to the black-light disco lighting. Not just responding—she had a supernova in her bodice, enough light to rival the neon glow of Vegas. Astronauts were probably pointing and staring from the moon, her chest was glowing so brightly.

She gasped, clapping her hands to her breasts to try to cover the incriminating radiance. Stricken, she glanced up and saw that Dylan was grinning, a hard glint in his eye now. He hadn’t forgiven her for today. Not by a mile.

“You got a cold or something?” he asked. Then he reached forward and pulled her clutching hands effortlessly from her chest. Crooking a finger into her bodice, he tugged it out so he could look down her top more clearly. “Man, you’ve got a whole rainforest down there, haven’t you?”

She was numb with shock as he reached into the neckline of her dress, unable to comprehend what was happening. She’d imagined his hands against her skin a million times, but as she felt the warm brush of his fingers against her body there was no desire, only a rising tide of nausea and shame. Slowly, casually, he plucked the scrunched-up tissue from her dress, handing each piece to her so that soon she was holding a small pile of glowing white balls. A crowd gathered to witness the spectacle. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the Jocks doubled over with laughter as they saw what was happening, while Cindi and her pack giggled behind their hands. Others murmured sympathetically, shaking their heads as they witnessed her humiliation.

At last she was holding all the tissue, and Dylan reached forward and covered her clutching hands with his own. Leaning in close, he squeezed her hands meaningfully with his own and looked her in the eye.

“I think we’re about done, Sadie Post,” he said. For the first time she smelled the alcohol on his breath and registered the glassy cast to his eyes.

He turned his back on her. She stood frozen for a few more pathetic seconds as he walked away, then she turned tail and ran, glowing balls of tissue scattering in her wake.

She wanted to die. She could never come to school again. She could never do anything again. Within minutes, the whole school would know what had happened, and she would be the absolute laughingstock, a figure of pity and fun for everyone to take a shot at.

Tears streaked her face as she bolted down the corridor, her sobs echoing off the brick walls. She hated Dylan Anderson. She hated him as much as she used to love him. More, even.

And she was never, ever, going to forget this.

1

“SADIE, STOP FIDGETING. You’re a bride. You’re supposed to be serene and dignified,” Claudia said.

Sadie grimaced apologetically. “Sorry. I just wanted to see,” she said hopefully.

“Well, you can’t. Not until I’ve finished,” Claudia Dostis said firmly, returning to the task of lacing the corsetlike back of Sadie’s ivory-silk wedding gown.

Sadie sighed and nodded, and her other bridesmaid, Grace Wellington, smacked her lightly on the shoulder.

“That includes your head, too,” she said. Grace was trying to anchor a frothy veil into the upswept mass of Sadie’s honey-blond hair.

“Does this mean I have to go back to bride-training school?” Sadie asked meekly.

“If you’re very still for the next twenty seconds, we’ll put in a good word for you,” Claudia said.

They were her closest friends, as well as her work colleagues and she trusted them implicitly, so she made a big effort to calm her nerves and stand docilely for the next few minutes as they continued to fuss. Finally, she felt a last tug around her middle, then Claudia let out a sigh.

“Done!”

“Me, too,” Grace said.

They both stepped back and surveyed her with satisfaction.

“Nice work with the veil,” Claudia said to Grace.

“Not so shabby on the dress work, either,” Grace said, returning the compliment.

Sadie raised an amused eyebrow. “Does this mean I finally get to look?”

Grace and Claudia grabbed a shoulder each and gently turned her around to face the freestanding mirror in the middle of her bedroom.

The woman facing her was a stranger, an elegant fairy princess in floating ivory silk, her blond hair swept into a sleek, sophisticated updo, her neck long and slender, her pale skin flawless, her large brown eyes dramatic and sexy.

“Wow. Is that really me?” Sadie squeaked.

“Yep. Gorgeous, as always,” Claudia confirmed.

Sadie blushed at her friend’s compliment, but a frown creased her forehead as her gaze inevitably drifted to her chest. It was pathetic, but she would probably never be one-hundred-percent happy with the size of her breasts, she admitted to herself. Too much baggage. Too long waiting around for the damned things to arrive in the first place. Who didn’t develop breasts until they were nineteen, for Pete’s sake? It was a form of cruelty, as far as Sadie was concerned.

“What’s wrong? You hate the way I did the veil, don’t you?” Grace asked, her clear green eyes clouded with concern.

Sadie pushed the old, old worry way. She was a B cup. Perfectly respectable. It was because she was nervous—that was why such an old, dusty preoccupation had reared its ugly head.

“It’s perfect, thank you. I was just wondering if I should have gone with a white dress instead of ivory,” she fibbed.

Claudia made a rude noise. “Even ivory is pushing it, lady,” she said knowingly.

“Hey!” Sadie said, pretending to be offended. “Are you implying I’m not a virgin?”

“I hope you’re not,” Grace said. “I’ll have to take down all that stuff I wrote about you on the toilet wall.”

They all giggled like idiots, then Sadie caught sight of the time and a jolt of adrenaline rocketed through her. The car would be here in twenty minutes.

“You guys had better get dressed,” she advised.

“Remind me again how you talked me into this dress,” Grace muttered as she unzipped the long, figure-hugging, strapless red sheath that had been tailor-made for her bombshell figure.

“Let me see… Because I am Bridezilla, and I must have my way?” Sadie suggested lightly.

“And because you were outvoted two to one,” Claudia said as she slid into her pint-size version of the same dress. Although she was petite, Claudia’s figure was still feminine, and the red fabric clung to her curves. With her olive skin and almost-black Greek eyes, she looked stunning.

“Oh, God.”