Starlee's Turn (The Wayward Sons 2)

Leelee does take pictures and then I zone out for most of the trip, wondering how my mother felt when she wore the dress. Was she nervous like I am? Did she have someone important waiting for her on the field? I’m pretty sure there weren’t four important people waiting for her—which is just another one of the places where our paths diverged.

The weather gods blessed us with moderate temperatures and I leave my coat in the car. Margaret, ever the student ambassador, waits for the court to arrive, ushering me around the side of the stadium. “Starlee, that dress is beautiful!” she declares when she sees me. Her eyes are wide and her tone genuine.

“Thanks. It was my mother’s.”

“Vintage? Wow. Your mother had amazing style and you have the perfect figure to pull it off.”

The younger girls huddle together, bouncing with excitement. I realize that

I’m the only senior here.

“Where’s everyone else?” I ask

“All the other girls are involved with cheer or dance team. They’ll change after the first quarter and meet you here.” She nods ahead. “Two of the boys on the court are waiting for you, though.”

I catch the insinuation—that they’re waiting for me in particular, but one glance at Dexter and Charlie, both dressed nicer than I’ve ever seen them, confirms that she’s right. They don’t just look at me—they see me—eyes widening in approval, shoulders pushing backwards, feet moving.

“I don’t know what kind of voodoo you worked on those guys,” Margaret whispers when we’re a few feet away, “but I definitely need to take notes.”

I don’t answer her—just move toward them.

Dexter says, “You look—”

“Beautiful,” Charlie finishes. “That dress…you look like a princess in one of my campaigns.”

Dex nods. “Whatever you do, don’t let Jake see you. He’ll fuck up the whole game.”

We’re along on the side of the field and I take a chance, kissing them both on the cheek. “You look nice, too. I didn’t know either of you owned clothing other than T-shirts.”

“I have a few stashed away. The juvenile court judges like it when you dress up nice for court,” Dex says with a laugh.

“Stop.”

He shrugs. “Sierra makes us have a few respectable outfits—just in case.”

“I’m glad.”

I wish I could see Jake and George in a suit, but they’ll be in their uniforms. I weigh the options. Suit and tie or tight football pants.

Seems win-win.

The first quarter ends and we’re ahead twenty-one to three. Monica is the first to appear on the track. She’s a very tall girl who decided to wear flats and a shimmery strapless dress. Her dark hair in down in soft waves that hang over her shoulders. She smiles when she sees us.

“Starlee, your dress is great! Vintage?”

“Thank you. Yes. It was my mom’s.”

“My aunt tried to get me to wear her Jessica McClintock dress from the early ‘80s. It was too small—she’s a shrimp. Hit me like, mid-thigh. I bet your mom is so excited you wore that.”

I feel Dex shift behind me but I just smile and nod.

The cheerleaders finally make their way over, struggling on the track with their pointy high-heels and tight-fitting dresses. Christina’s dress is cherry red, beaded and looks like the kind of thing you’d see in a pageant. Her heels are easily five inches with thick platforms on the bottom. Her hair and makeup perfect—her nails long and lacquered. This means a lot to her and for a brief moment, I feel sorry for her. This is the biggest moment in her life.

The moment, as I said, is brief, because her eyes skim over me predatorily. Our eyes lock and there’s a moment where I realize that I do look good and that she’s…jealous? I don’t know for certain, but it fades instantly and her lips curl into a small, cruel grin before whispering to the girl next to her. There’s no doubt she’s trying her best to knock me off kilter.

“All right, let’s get lined up,” Margaret says, walking up to us carrying a bundle of shiny, white fabric. A boy I don’t recognize stands next to her, his arms filled with flowers.

One by one, Margaret walks up to us and places a sash over the girl’s heads. I glance down and see “Sierra Academy HoCo” and the date stitched in gold thread.