I slide my hand into the crook of his elbow. “So do you, Charlie.” I redden. “Er…Handsome! I meant you look handsome.”
He laughs with a flash of straight white teeth as he leads me toward the waiting Hummer limo.
“Wow,” I breathe, taking in the sight of it. “It’s so…”
“Pink?” Charlie finishes. “I’d expect nothing less from the Wadell twins.”
Like a proper gentleman, he holds open my door and helps me into the backseat. Inside, Ophelia and Odette are sitting on their dates’ laps, sipping champagne
“Josie!” They squeal when they see me.
I’ve barely settled in my seat when Odette passes me a flute. It’s full to the brim with bubbles.
“Cheers!” She clinks her glass against mine. “Happy prom!”
“Happy prom,” I echo, taking a sip.
Beside me, Charlie holds his glass out to mine. “Thank you for allowing me to be your escort tonight.”
“Oh, uh,” I stammer. “Thanks for agreeing to come. Hopefully it won’t be a total drag.”
His dimples become more pronounced as his grin deepens. “I seriously doubt that’s possible.”
We do a round of introductions. Ophelia and Odette’s dates — a stunning pair of twins from St. John’s — are, coincidentally, named Oliver and Orlando. There is little to no intelligence behind their vacant blue eyes. But they seem harmless enough.
“It’s nice to meet you,” I tell them, taking another sip of my champagne.
They both smile, then promptly resume snorting lines of cocaine off the glass tabletop.
“Your dress is absolutely killer, Josie.” Ophelia’s eyes scan my frame, taking in every scrap of blue silk with undisguised envy. “Where’s it from? Vera Wang? MiuMiu? I know it’s not McQueen — I scoured his formalwear collection for months, looking formydress.” She gestures down at her vibrant red frock — a stunning confection of ruffles and tulle that gives the illusion she’s wearing a giant rose.
“It’s amazing, Ophelia.” I lean forward to get a better look. My voice drops to a whisper. “But how on earth will you pee?”
She tilts her head. “Verycarefully.”
Everyone laughs.
“You look amazing too, Odette.” I turn my gaze on her gown — a black sheath with ornate gold epaulettes at the shoulders that give it a military vibe. “You look like a sexy cavalry officer.”
“That’s exactly what I was going for!” She grins.
“You never answered my question,” Ophelia reminds me, her eyes still locked on my dress. “Who’s the designer?”
“Oh.” I take a careful sip of champagne. “I am, actually.”
“Seriously?!” Both twins gasp.
“Seriously.”
“Okay, well, next time we have a formal event, you’re totally in charge of making our dresses,” Odette says. “We can be, like… your first brand ambassadors!”
Ophelia nods. “Goodbye, Alexander McQueen. Hello, Josephine Valentine.”
“I think you guys are getting a bit ahead of yourselves.” I shake my head. “I’ve really only designed a handful of things… Most of them aren’t any good.”
“But by the time you finish your first semester at school, you’ll have a full portfolio,” Odette points out.
“You are studying fashion design, aren’t you?” Ophelia asks. “If you aren’t, you’re insane.”