Top Ten Uses for an Unworn Prom Dress Read Online Free PDF

allowance.
    He'd judge me. He'd judge Mom.
    I blew out a sigh.
    “Yeah,” I answered. “If you could hang around for a few minutes, then take off to go get a Coke or something, and wait for me out front. That would be great.”
    I slumped down in my seat.
    •
    My dad's house was on a semicircular street of newish two-story houses that all looked the same. Every house had a name written on the mailbox. I half expected the box outside Dad's place to say midlife crisis.
    As I moved up his walk, my hands felt fresh-from-the-freezer cold.
    Jared's voice cut through my wall of anxiety. “Am I supposed to be, you know, anything more than your driver? Your boyfriend or something?”
    It occurred to me to laugh. But my humor had frozen along with my nerves. “Just be you.”
    I pressed the buzzer and the door opened. Immediately. And there was Dad, like he'd been waiting for me.
    My gaze locked with his—squinty blue eyes behind wire-framed glasses—and for a strange moment I went through a quick thaw. He was my dad, after all, the guy who'd let me sit on his lap at dinner, eat the food off his plate. Who'd assured me that thunder wasn't clouds bumping together. Who'd taught me how to float in the pool …
    Then a noise erupted just below his chin, and my gaze followed.
    And there she was. My replacement.
    “Nicolette,” Dad said, so warmly I was sure that he'd been practicing. Then he actually placed the kid down by his feet and gave me the hug I'd been dreading.
    “Hey, Dad,” I managed, playing the game, and gave him a squeeze.
    He felt warm and strong, and still smelled like a piney aftershave. A good smell. Part of my brain told me I should hate him even more for being so
alive
, rather than a person who'd ceased to exist in my life. But soon enough, the monster made a whining noise,we dropped our arms, and guess who was the center of attention again.
    “Hasn't she gotten big?” Dad said, his smile widening. “Two years old last month.”
    •
    The living room was stark beige, and the ceiling went on forever. My mother would have cozied the place up with pillows and dried floral arrangements or something, but obviously Dad was no longer into warm and fuzzy.
    We made small talk about the drive and school. So far it was as pleasant as an inner-ear infection. Then Jared excused himself to “go fill up the tank.” I wanted to slip out behind him, but he quickly disappeared, and then it was just Dad, the parasite, and me. One big happy family.
    Dad zapped on the TV and Autumn slid off his lap and waddled toward the tube, saying something about a character named Dora.
    In the perfect version of my life, this would be when my dad and I would have an incredible conversation ending with him begging my forgiveness and handing me a check for, say, the entire balance my mom owed to the bank. Then he'd say that he was leaving Caffeine and their rug rat and coming back to Mom and me.
    Because wasn't Dad the one who'd taught me if you were going to dream, to dream big?
    His lips pressed together. “So what's up?”
    I just went for it. “I need money. Mom's gotten behind on the mortgage and I think the bank's going to take the house.”
    “What does your mother think?”
    The words came out of me in a hollow whisper, the voice of a stranger: “She's scared.”
    He glanced down.
    Then I told him exactly how much I wanted … a sum I'd calculated quite fairly, I thought, figuring on this month's payment and last, in the hopes that the clean slate would give Mom the confidence to close a property before the bill came next month.
    “Would if I could, kiddo. But I don't have it.”
    From my Intro to Business class, I recalled lessons on transferring funds, cashing in stocks. Those things took time. “Okay. Well, when
can
you get it to me?”
    He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “I don't think you understand. I don't have the money.” Little lines splintered out from his eyes, accentuating his frown, making me