What are you doing?”
I dropped the dress and whirled around. Stephen stood in the doorway of the closet, looking at me steadily.
“Nothing,” I said, crossing my arms. “It’s a beautiful dress.”
“It’s my mother’s. What are you doing in her closet?”
I struggled to come up with something, anything that made the tiniest bit of sense. “She came to see me today,” I blurted. “Told me to stay away from you. She said I wasn’t good enough to date you. I didn’t believe her.”
I paused for dramatic effect. “But now I look at your big house with your mother’s fancy walk-in closet. Any one of these dresses cost more than my whole wardrobe. And I’m thinking maybe she’s right. I can’t compete with the rich girls. I don’t belong in this world.”
Pass me the Academy Award. I don’t know how I did it, but hysterical-girl tears sprung from my eyes as I ran out of the room and down the grand staircase.

Author: Kim Harrington