3

BRANDI

“I talked to Taylor last night,” Nate shouts over the sound of the running water.

I finish brushing my teeth and stare at my reflection in the mirror. “What’d she say?”

“She was cool. She said we should come to this ball at her house tonight. Her pops will be there. She said she’ll introduce you.”

Ah. Right. It was mentioned in one of the newsletters earlier this week. Every year Van Doren hosts a charity ball to fund the Save The Animals foundation. It’s invitation-only and each plate costs five thousand dollars.

Five thousand dollars.

I almost forgot all about it.

I turn to Nate even though he can’t see me with his head bent forward, the water pounding at the nape of his neck. “Do I look like Cinderella to you?”

There is no way I’m going to a ball tonight.

Nate turns around in the stall and I watch the water fall over his face through the frosted glass as he talks. “You will after we hit up Fifth Ave.”

“No. I wouldn’t even know how to act...what to say around those kinds of people. They’re all rich. And important. And—”

“Brandi. This is your one chance at landing your dream job and you’re gonna throw it away because you’re scared? Since when do you care so much about what people think of you anyway?”

I open my mouth. Close it.

He’s right. I know he’s right. But—

“This is different. You want me to go to a ball. An actual ball.”

I never go with Nate to parties. Every time he asks, I scavenge for an excuse, claim student-intern exhaustion or just tell him no. I hate the crowds, the energy, the performance of it all. It’s not fun for me. I don’t like to drink. I’d rather stay in and do something much more chill, much less...intense. And this time it’s not just a party, it’s a whole-ass ball.

Nate shuts off the water and reaches an arm out for a towel, and I’m suddenly distracted by his dripping-wet body. It’s been so long since I’ve seen him like this.

I lick my lips. “Besides, I can’t let you drop thousands of dollars on a dress I’ll only wear once.”