Page 114 of The Design of Goodbye
“I know.” I swept his hair back, the motion causing my blanket to slide off my shoulders and fall onto the ground.
Liam’s eyes widened. “What are you wearing?”
Oh no.
“Uh, a dress I made.” I hesitated before asking, “What do you think?”
He stared at me like...like he couldn’t believe I was standing in front of him. “You’re gorgeous.”
My cheeks burned.
“I meant the dress,” I said. “Be honest. It’s an entry for the Harbor Fashion Show.”
“Is it?” His smile fell. “Oh.”
Oh.Oh?!
“What’s wrong with it?” I asked, suddenly panicking.
“You look amazing. The dress is pretty,” he said, running his fingers through the stars on my shoulder. “I think it would impress the judges. But it’s notyou.”
Suddenly, everything made sense. I’d spent hours trying to figure out what was wrong with the dress, and he’d figured it out in less than a minute.
Nothing was wrong with the dress.
It wasn’t my style. It wasn’tme.
“That’s because it isn’t.” I trailed my fingers over the bodice and thought of my mom. She’d loved fitted bodices and high necklines. I hated them. They were constricting and a pain to take off, but they’d always been her favorite. Never mine. “The dress is based off one of my mom’s sketches.”
“Why?” he asked.
“It’s complicated.”
“Okay,” he said softly. “Tell me about it.”
I didn’t want to tell him the truth, but I needed to. “I have a plan.”
“What kind of plan?”
His fingers kept getting tangled in the stars, but it didn’t deter him, and I was glad. His touch kept me grounded. “My collection for the Harbor Fashion Show will include four pieces my mom sketched but never had the chance to create. I’ll show you.”
I led him to my desk, where I showed him the four sketches.
“Butwhy?” he asked.
I clammed up. I hadn’t anticipated beingthathonest.
“Does this have to do with thinking you can’t come up with ideas? Remember,” he said, proud, “you made my jacket.”
“Your jacket wasn’t completely original,” I argued. “I based it off some templates.”
“Close enough,” he said. “So, is that the reason? Because, if it is, I know you can do it. I believe in you.”
“That’s not it,” I admitted truthfully. “I’m doing it to get my mom back.”
He frowned, the bags under his eyes darkening. “What?”
“She’s going to attend the Harbor Fashion Show,” I quickly explained. “She’ll see what I’ve done and be so proud of me she’ll come back.”
