Breathless and flushed, clutching a scarf in one hand and a bag of marshmallows in the other, Alexa burst into her friend’s apartment, nearly colliding with Ivonne’s younger brother, Kit, who was waiting for her by the door.
“So, is it really that bad?” she asked on the move, shrugging off her coat and kicking her boots in opposite directions.
“It’s a total mess,” the teenager grumbled. “Dumped girls are the worst!”
“Watch your mouth, Kit. You’re talking about your sister!”
Her best friend, Ivonne, sat on the floor of her room in pajamas, sobbing uncontrollably, surrounded by a pile of soggy tissues.
“Hey, tell me who did this, and I’ll make the jerk eat every single one of these tissues without a drop to wash them down,” Alexa said, kneeling beside her and wrapping Ivonne in a tender embrace, pressing her tear-swollen face against her chest. “Ivonne, no guy in the world is worth torturing yourself like this. Besides, none of them could handle this blotchy, snotty, miserable look of yours. Stop it right now! I didn’t race over here with your favorite marshmallows just to cry over another idiot with you!” Gently pushing Ivonne back, Alexa gave her a little shake. “I’m here to knock some sense into you and set you straight. Good grief, Ivonne, you look awful,” she said with a smirk, handing her another tissue and making her blow her nose. “Do all heartbroken women look this dreadful? And what, are you just going to let someone make you wallow on the floor, curled up in defeat, drowning in bitter tears?”
“That’s so like me, isn’t it?” Ivonne sniffled, her tone biting. “I’m not as composed and wise as some people, who’ve never shed a single tear in their life! Fine, maybe I’m a mess, but you just don’t get it! And trust me, there are guys out there who make you want to end it all if they’re not by your side!”
“Alright, alright, I get the hint, girl. Yes, I’ve never fallen in love, and maybe there’s something wrong with me, considering I’m already twenty-four. Fine. But the idea of ending your life over a guy? Come on! Ivonne, I’m sorry, but that’s just plain crazy.”
“What if it’s Patrick?” Ivonne whispered mournfully, gazing at Alexa with miserable, tear-filled eyes.
“Oh, come on!” Alexa growled, throwing her head back. “Again? You broke up three months ago. I thought you’d cried it all out on three of my blouses back then and moved on ages ago.”
“Here. This invitation. Read it.”
“‘Ivonne Marshall is cordially invited to the engagement of Patrick Swaydon and Monica Faye, to be held on Saturday, October 21st, at the Governor’s Mansion as the sun dips below the horizon.’ What kind of ridiculous nonsense is this? Cordially invited? Seriously?” Alexa sneered, raising an eyebrow in disdain. “This pretentious snob really thinks the world of himself. He’s mocking you! Burn this perfumed piece of trash and spit on the ashes! This Saturday, you and I are going to have our own kind of fun, without any stuck-up rich jerks!”
“But I want to go,” Ivonne mumbled, looking at her friend pleadingly, her shoulders hunched. “It says I can bring a plus-one. Will you come with me?”
“Are you out of your mind?” Alexa exclaimed, her face twisting in disapproval. “No way! This creep knows how much pain your breakup caused you, and now he wants to rub salt in the wound for good measure? Your Patrick is a sadist! Ivonne, take a shower, step out onto the balcony, and scream your lungs out—curse if you have to—but get this humiliating idea out of your head!”
“He even sent me a dress.”
Jumping to her feet, Alexa huffed in outrage, pacing the room and flailing her arms in speechless frustration.
“Alexa, I’m not stupid, I get it. But I need to see this with my own eyes. I need to cut all ties, all my crazy hopes and delusions. I need this salt to finally be free of him! And I need you. If you’re with me, I can handle it. Don’t freak out, just help me.”
“Yeah, sure,” Alexa said, shaking her head. “Now, because of this jerk, I’ll have to squeeze into a dress too,” she muttered, feigning agony on her pretty face, already suspecting she’d end up going with her friend.
“At least it’s an excuse to own one evening gown,” Ivonne perked up, scooping the tissues into the trash. “We’ll look absolutely stunning!”
“Yeah, more like exhibits of desperation,” Alexa grumbled. “The things I do for you.”
***
“Lexi, you look amazing!” Ivonne gasped, unable to hide her admiration as she peeked into the bedroom, freezing in the doorway with her mouth agape. Her eyes widened, taking in the transformed image of her friend, who truly looked extraordinary. “It’s so weird… seeing you without your uniform or jeans. I’ve always said you’re gorgeous. Even I’d fall for you.”
“I’ve never spent this long in front of a mirror in my life,” Alexa frowned. “This feels so strange… like going hunting stark naked! Alright, let’s go before I change my mind.”
Without a word, both girls paused for a brief, nervous moment at the top of the staircase, which was strewn with red rose petals. Ivonne wore a shimmering emerald dress that matched her green eyes, her fiery, almost copper hair elegantly swept up, her high-society lady look completed with tastefully chosen, expensive jewelry.
Alexa, on the other hand, was always the complete opposite of her friend in every way. Instead of trendy outfits, she preferred comfortable clothes that didn’t restrict her movement. Rather than chasing romance and falling in love every other month like Ivonne, Alexa focused on her studies and passions. Despite their starkly different outlooks on life, their unbreakable friendship was something to be envied.
This evening, Alexa wore high heels—an almost unprecedented event. She was much shorter than Ivonne and pale, as if her skin had never seen the sun. Her thick, dark hair was simply let down, and she wore a bold red dress adorned with silver embroidery.
“This neckline is way too low,” Alexa muttered skeptically, her large, expressive brown eyes reflecting disapproval. “I look like a hooker.”
“You’re imagining things. You’ve got great curves and a figure these snooty girls would kill for. The only thing—I’d ditch that ancient pendant,” Ivonne said, glancing at the modest silver pendant adorning Alexa’s neck.
“You know my rule—I never take it off! Anyway, now I’ll finally get to see the idiot who dared to mess with my best friend, the same friend who hid her dreamy heartbreaker from everyone for five whole months. I’m sure once I see him, I’ll be seriously disappointed… in you,” Alexa teased with a smile, leading the way up the stairs.
The banquet hall of the Governor’s Mansion was already buzzing with guests, bathed in light, adorned with artwork, and filled with waiters darting around with trays of appetizers.
“So, which one of these pretentious snobs is your ex?” Alexa asked, glancing at Ivonne, who suddenly clung to her arm in a death grip out of sheer nerves. “Iv, should we just bolt while we still can?”
“No way. Let’s walk around. Check out the paintings. Look, the Swaydons have put their collection on display. My gosh, that’s Renoir’s ‘Spring Bouquet’!”
Alexa sighed heavily, rolling her eyes with a martyred expression. Art had never touched the depths of her soul or elicited the excited gasps it did from Ivonne. She mixed up the names of famous artists, and some paintings outright shocked her—she wasn’t shy about calling them “scribbles” and couldn’t fathom why a simple black square was worth a fortune.
“Just look at this sculpture… oh, those curves,” Ivonne breathed, grabbing two glasses of champagne from a passing tray. “Such a strange style, captivating, magnetic. It’s breathtaking! I’m at a loss for words! What do you think, Lexi?”
Studying the sculpture made of intertwined fragments of the human body, Alexa tilted her head first to one side, then the other. Finding nothing particularly breathtaking about it, she merely shrugged.
“It’s my favorite masterpiece. I could stare at it for hours,” a velvety male voice said nearby, causing Ivonne to choke and cough on her champagne. Alexa instantly realized who had finally deigned to approach them. Turning around, she unabashedly sized the man up from head to toe, quickly forming her own conclusions. While she assessed him with a skeptical gaze, the man kept smiling radiantly, waiting with calm dignity for the expected retort.
“So, this Apollo wannabe is the infamous Patrick?” Alexa said with irony, glancing at Ivonne, who had already turned blotchy and seemed to have swallowed her tongue.
“That’s right, though I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting this charming critic. Allow me to introduce myself—Patrick Swaydon. Hello, Ivonne, I’m glad you came,” his velvety black eyes slid over Ivonne’s anxious face before returning to Alexa, eager to hear her name. But she only smirked defiantly:
“Now I see what you two had in common—terrible taste!” she said coldly, staring directly into his eyes. “I’m pleased to congratulate you on your engagement, Mr. Swaydon. I’m truly glad it’s not Ivonne standing in your fiancée’s place,” her tone instantly turned sharp and judgmental.
“I can guess what I’ve done to earn such contempt,” he continued to smile, gazing into her eyes, which burned with fierce indignation.
“If I weren’t a polite person, Mr. Swaydon, I wouldn’t hold back from telling you exactly what you deserve,” Alexa hissed.
“Alexa, stop it,” Ivonne interjected, finally snapping out of her daze. “We’re here for a celebration. Those troubles are in the past. This is a fabulous event, Patrick. I’m in awe of the paintings!” Ivonne tried to draw the young man’s attention, but he was already too engrossed in her fiercely combative friend.
“Care to dance?” he suddenly extended his hand, looking at Alexa expectantly, who flared up with anger at the invitation.
“Good heavens, absolutely not!” she snapped, matching his audacity with her tone. “You’ve shown your hospitality, said a polite hello, now go back to your fiancée!”
“Or perhaps, yes?” Swiftly and sharply, he pulled the girl toward him. “If you’re my enemy, then I’d prefer to get to know you better. And to you, feisty little terrier snapping at an elephant, I suggest you understand who you’re dealing with.”
“Pfft! I already know, you pompous nobody. Some elephant—don’t swing your trunk around too much. Admit it, we’d look ridiculous if I kicked you with my heel and started struggling. So let me go. Now!” Alexa demanded, exhaling sharply into the handsome face leaning toward her.
“So that’s how it is?” Patrick said with a disappointed tone, releasing her with a smirk of malice.
“That’s how it’s not!” And with that, yanking Ivonne by the arm, Alexa dragged her to the other side of the hall. “What do you think, Ivonne, have we been here long enough, or do you absolutely need to see the girl this walking disaster got engaged to?”
“I want to see her,” Ivonne nodded stoically.