The Lost and Found Bookshop Page 53
“No,” she said. “I mean, there are dances and stuff. I’ve hung out with boys at school, but they’re just friends.”
“Well, you’re totally cute, and if you wanted a boyfriend, you’d have one,” Sierra said.
“So . . .” It was on the tip of her tongue to tell Sierra about Will Jensen, but she didn’t, mostly because she had no idea how to talk about that moment.
There was either way too much to tell or nothing at all to be said.
Saying nothing seemed safer.
Thanks to her friendship with Sierra, school was more fun than Caroline could have imagined. The peak event of the year was the annual spring banquet, an extravagant affair that gave students a chance to dress up and act like almost-grown-ups. This tradition dated back to who knew when; kids’ parents all reminisced about the celebration. A volunteer committee worked for months to come up with the theme, the menu, and the music.
“‘The Awesome Eighties’?” Sierra studied the flyer that accompanied the banquet tickets. “Seriously? Was there anything awesome about the eighties?”
“Um, blue eye shadow?” Caroline suggested. “Leg warmers? Disco music?”
“We have a design challenge, then,” Sierra declared. “Our outfits need to be amazing.”
“Don’t worry. They will be. Let’s watch some old movies and make a plan.”
They went to the video store and checked out what Caroline’s mom said were the classics—Pretty in Pink, Sixteen Candles, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, Flashdance, Footloose, Say Anything . . . They watched them over a stormy weekend at Sierra’s house, a preternaturally quiet and painfully neat home near the golf course. The girls were mesmerized by the dance tunes and torch songs, kids angsting about cars, parents, and detention.
Caroline was inspired by the bold fashions—miniskirts, huge belts, flashy jewelry, off-the-shoulder tops. She and Sierra planned and styled themselves for days in advance.
On the day of the banquet and dance, they got dressed at Caroline’s house. Even though the Shelby house was ridiculously crowded, it was a better place to dress up. Sierra said her parents wouldn’t approve of the skirt length, despite the colorful leggings.
“Big hair and bold makeup,” Sierra said, crowding next to Caroline at the bathroom vanity. “Do we dare?”
Caroline laughed, tossing the teased ponytail that sprouted from her head. “We dare!”
Chapter 18
School finally ended for the year. Caroline knew the glorious Pacific Northwest summer would be a revelation to Sierra. The days stretched wonderfully long, with the light lingering on the horizon later and later each evening.
Caroline had convinced her parents once again that working at the fabric store was the perfect job for her. To reinforce her point, she applied her sewing skills to her mom’s bottomless basket of mending she never got around to. Caroline hemmed jeans and altered blouses to fit perfectly. She replaced zippers in her brothers’ favorite jackets, and even made a quilt to donate to the library auction. She left her parents no room to suggest that the restaurant would be a better choice for her.
Sierra was thrilled, too, because Caroline was working on her most challenging project to date—summer outfits for the two of them.
“I love this weather,” Sierra exclaimed, bursting into the shop. “It’s almost worth surviving that miserable winter.” She spun around happily, admiring the array of colorful fabric bolts.
“It’ll only get better from now until Labor Day,” Caroline promised, reshelving bolts of quilt fabric. She was excited for her friend to experience her first summer on the peninsula. They were going to have such fun on the beach, and thanks to her job at the shop, she could go crazy making things. Sierra had turned out to be her biggest fan.
“Oh, she’s right about that,” Mrs. Bloom agreed, adjusting the reading glasses perched on her nose. “It’s nice to see you, Sierra.”
“Likewise.” She executed a little curtsy, bumping into a roll of teal georgette, and it tumbled across the floor. “Oh my gosh, I’m sorry,” she said, making a dive for it.
Mrs. Bloom grabbed the roll at the same time, and together, they set it on the counter. “It’s fine,” she said. “No harm done.”
“Oh my gosh,” Sierra said again. “What’d you do to your arm?”
Mrs. Bloom looked flustered as she quickly adjusted the sleeve of her sweater. “Oh, that. I banged it on the car door. I’m such a klutz, and I tend to bruise like a banana. Always have.”
“Looks painful,” Sierra said.
“I’m fine. Now, I need to tally up the till for the day. So if you girls want to work on your sewing in the back, go right ahead. I don’t expect a rush of customers at this hour.”
“Are you sure?” Caroline really wanted to finish the dress she was making for Sierra. She’d already finished her own, and it had turned out great. But Sierra’s was going to be incredible if she got the fit just right. “I mean, if you don’t need me for anything else, Mrs. Bloom.”
“Go.” She shooed them toward the workroom in the back of the shop. “Be creative. It does my heart good to see you girls doing so well with your sewing.”
“She’s the one,” Sierra said loyally, nudging Caroline. “I can’t wait to see the final look.”
Caroline beamed with pride. As far as she was concerned, Sierra was the ideal dress model. Her patience for standing through fittings and adjustments was endless. She wasn’t like Caroline’s sisters, who sighed and fidgeted and made her rush through her work. Also, Sierra knew how to do makeup like a professional, and she had really good taste when it came to styling a look. She subscribed to all the fashion magazines and studied them like the Dead Sea Scrolls.
The girls went to the small sewing studio at the back of the shop. Lindy happily shared the space with Caroline and other students who wanted to sew.
“Ooh, it’s fantastic,” Sierra said, inspecting the sundress on the dress form.
“We’ll see. Let’s get it on you.”
Sierra eagerly shucked her skirt and blouse. Underneath, she wore a bikini bra and panties that would probably send her folks into a dead faint if they knew she had ordered them in secret from a lingerie catalog. She had an amazing figure, with perfect boobs—not melons so big they made her self-conscious, just the right size for her tall, slender frame. Her abs were defined by the yoga she rigorously practiced, and her hips had just the right amount of curve. She was obsessed with an Australian TV show, Search for a Supermodel. She recorded the show on the VCR and watched each episode again and again, practicing her signature walk and fierce expressions.
Though only six months younger than Sierra, Caroline was light-years behind. Her boobs had barely sprouted and her hips were so straight she could easily fit into her little brother’s jeans. The only thing that marked her as a budding teenager was the least attractive thing about being a teenager—pimples. Yuck. Sierra, who was a genius with makeup, showed her how to cover up the spots, but Caroline was totally self-conscious, not even wanting to look in the mirror some days. Why couldn’t she have been blessed, like Sierra was, with pretty, unblemished skin? And silky long hair, for that matter? Instead, she had an unruly mane scraped into a messy bun that did her no favors at all. Worse yet, she got braces this year. It was a trifecta of ugly.