Shortly after, Gary arrived.
He was my partner.
Easy.
Smart.
The kind of guy I heard before I spoke.
When he saw me, he stood completely still.
“Is that bad?”
"No.
He smiled.
I don’t know what to say.
I laughed.
“Then don’t say anything.
And during the first part of the night I was happy.
We dance.
We took pictures.
My friends asked me about the dress.
I said to them,
My mom did it.
And every time I said it, I was proud.
Until the side doors were opened.
Some parents started to come in.
I was talking to Gary when I heard several murmurs.
I turned.
And I saw her.
Shirley.
I felt my face freeze.
She was wearing a blue dress.
My blue dress.
Or rather...
a copy.
Shirley walked slowly, enjoying every look.
Several people turned from her to me.
Then again to her.
Gary frowned.
What is going on?
I couldn't answer.
Shirley came to us.
She looked at my dress from top to bottom.
Then he smiled.
“Wow.
I walked over.
Where did you get that dress?
I sent him to.
How exactly did they know how to do it?
His smile grew bigger.
“You’re not the only person who looks good on blue.
Then I understood everything.
The evenings “cleaning” my room.
The hours I had spent alone near my closet.
The times he insisted that I go out.
I had photographed the dress.
He had probably taken action.
Then I had paid for someone to copy it.
You knew what this dress meant to me.
Shirley leaned slightly.
Only I could hear her.
“Maybe it’s time to stop turning everything into a monument for your mother.
I felt like I was short of breath.
I looked at my father.
It was close.
I had heard.
I waited.
I just needed him to say,
“Enough.”
One word.
Anything.
But he lowered his eyes.
I'm sorry, daughter.
That was it.
I felt the tears.
I didn't want to cry in front of Shirley.
So I walked to the exit.
Then Gary gently took my arm.
“Wait.”
I want to go.
I know.
He looked at Shirley.
But give me five minutes.
—Gary...
Trust me.
Before he could stop it, he walked straight to her.
I thought I was going to face her.
He didn't.
He smiled.
Mrs. Shirley.
She turned.
