Page 87 of Dangerously
He’s right. She does give me way too much credit. I wonder if she’d feel the same way if she knew what I really did for a living.
Once our makeup and hair is done, we slip into our formal dresses. Farrah is a vision in navy blue. I went with basic black with a high slit, and March stole the show with a shiny silver lamé suit. I think I’m going to need a pair of sunglasses to look at him all night.
As we walk down the stairs, Farrah slips her arm around mine. It’s so surreal. Walking side by side with my baby sister, who isn’t such a baby anymore.
At the bottom of the stairs, Declan waits with Aisling and Ling. I sort of feel bad ditching him, but he seemed perfectly content on staying home and catching up on snuggles. I know he missed her. I know it was killing him to be away from her. And I still have mixed emotions about what I did. He seems to have forgiven all my sins though.
“A Gaelic storm.” Declan nods as he eyes me from head to toe. “I called it right the first time.”
“I take it you like?”
“Like is a puny word.” He kisses the naked skin on my neck. “That dress is getting ripped off your body when you get home,” he covertly whispers.
“I wouldn't expect anything less.” I welcome his promise.
“And what about my digs?” March does a little turn.
“You look like Bruno Mars at the Super Bowl.”
“Exactly what I was going for.” He snaps and points.
“I think Farrah steals the show.” Ling steps forward and takes Farrah’s hands. She’s a petite woman with a porcelain face and dark blue streaks in her long black hair. And I wouldn’t fuck with her, that’s for sure.
“Thanks, Ling.” Farrah is as beautiful and gracious as any woman growing up in the lap of luxury should be. It’s also clear how much they adore each other. The bond they share makes me both happy and sad. Ling got to see Farrah grow up. Got to see all the things I missed. But she also kept her safe, and spared her all the pain I suffered through. For that, I am in Ling’s debt and eternally grateful.
“You have my number if you need anything.” Ling looks at all three of us.
“Yes, Ling.” Farrah sighs. It's clear she’s over being coddled.
Ling just grins. “Be good. Have fun.”
“We will.” Farrah’s excitement returns.
Before we head out to the car, Ling and I share a knowing look. “Keep this one away from the whiskey,” I refer to Declan. “He tends to get into trouble.”
“Me? Never.” He plays up the innocent act.
“Don’t you worry,” Ling assures me. “I have many methods to keep him in line.”
Her passive facial expression and tone are eerily chilling. Any worries I had about leaving seemingly fade away.
In the car, on the way to the school, I realize something. “I never went to my winter formal. I never went to any school dances.”
“What? Why?” Farrah finds this information preposterous.
I regret having said anything immediately. It’s a can of worms I shouldn’t have opened. But I suddenly felt a terrible bout of resentment.
“Mommy and Daddy were much stricter back then. They seemed to have lightened up with you.”
“Yeah, well, they probably didn’t want both their kids running away.”
“Possibly.” I stare out the window, trying not to put a damper on the mood. I don’t want to spoil Farrah’s night with the animosity of my past.
We wait in the line of luxury cars until we finally pull up to the school’s entrance. It looks exactly the same. The elite, private high school I abandoned twelve years ago.
I didn’t expect to be this nervous, and I suddenly hope I don't run into any of my old teachers. That would be painfully awkward. I want to avoid the “where have you been, what are you up to?” questions at all costs. Could you imagine their faces if I told them the truth? The thought is darkly entertaining.
“Are you thinking about killing someone?” March asks under his breath.
