“And?”
“I need a dress.”
That finally made her glance at me.
“For what?”
I thought she was joking.
“For prom.”
“I know what prom is, Savannah.”
“Then why did you ask?”
“Because I’m trying to understand why your school dance is suddenly my financial emergency.”
“It isn’t an emergency. Mom and Dad left money for things like this.”
Denise placed her wineglass down very slowly.
“That account is not your personal shopping fund.”
“I’m not asking for thousands of dollars. I found a dress on sale for one hundred and twenty-nine.”
She laughed.
It was not a warm laugh.
It was the sound she made when she wanted me to feel stupid.
“One hundred and twenty-nine dollars for a dress you’ll wear for four hours?”
“You just spent more than that on shoes.”
“I am an adult.”
“And it’s our money.”
The words came out before I could stop them.
The kitchen became silent.
Denise locked the screen of her tablet.
“Excuse me?”
“Mom left that money for Eli and me.”
“That money is keeping a roof over your head.”
“Dad paid off this house before he died.”
Her chair scraped against the floor as she stood.
“You have no idea what it costs to maintain a home.”
“Then show me the bills.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“You’re becoming very disrespectful.”
“I’m asking where our money is going.”
“You are asking for a ridiculous dress so you can parade around a gymnasium pretending you’re some kind of princess.”
My throat tightened.
“I just want to go to prom.”
Denise folded her arms.
“Let me save you some embarrassment. An expensive dress is not going to turn you into one of those popular girls.”
“I never said it would.”
“No, but you’re imagining some grand entrance where everyone suddenly notices you.”
She leaned closer.
“The truth is, Savannah, nobody is waiting for you to walk into that room.”
I felt every word land.
She knew exactly how to hurt people without raising her voice.
“So the answer is no?” I asked.
“The answer is that you should learn to live within your circumstances.”
“Our circumstances or the circumstances you created?”
Her face went cold.
“Go to your room.”
“Denise—”
“Now.”
I walked upstairs before she could see me cry.
I buried my face in a pillow and hated myself for caring so much about a dance.
An hour later, someone tapped lightly on my door.
Eli stepped inside.
He was fifteen but looked younger whenever he was worried. He had Dad’s dark hair, Mom’s gray eyes, and a habit of pulling his sleeves over his hands when he did not know what to say.
“I heard everything,” he said.
“Of course you did. She wanted the entire neighborhood to hear.”
He sat at the edge of my bed.
“Are you still going?”
“In what?”
He shrugged.
“Maybe you could borrow something.”
“From who?”
Neither of us had an answer.
Most of my friends had already altered their dresses specifically for their bodies. Besides, borrowing one would not solve the humiliation of explaining why my guardian refused to spend a dollar of the money my parents had left me.
“I’ll just skip it,” I said.
Eli stared at the floor.
“No.”
I wiped my eyes.
“No?”
