Delilah: The Making of Red

Chapter 5 The Red Dress

Dylan wasn’t lying when he said he’d come pick me up. He actually walked over to my house, even though I was planning on wandering out to the front yard so we could just meet.

My mom’s the one who answered the door, and I can hear her chatting away with him in the living room, laughing. The sound is heavy metal to my ears, and I hope she’s wearing clothes, but I doubt it.

I’m trying to hurry and get ready. I was so nervous I couldn’t figure out what to wear. At first I was going to go with something more along the lines of my normal wardrobe, like skinny jeans, sandals, and maybe a fancy tank top. But then I couldn’t help but think of that busty blond girl named Nikki and the slutty leather dress she was wearing and how she captured everyone’s attention when she was dancing on the car. So I decided on something a little less Delilah and a little more sexy and fitting for the nickname “Red.”

“Heart of Glass” by Blondie is playing from my record player as I work to get my hair up into some kind of fancy ’do and dance around every once and awhile. But it’s hot, and the stifling air is making my hair limp. I wanted to make it look really sexy since Dylan was playing with it, but I’m giving up hope the more it falls out of the clips. Finally I just pull all the strands out and run my fingers through them, so they’re a little wavy. Then I stain my lips with some red lipstick I stole out of my mother’s makeup stash. After adding a string of pearls to look more grown up, I go over to the full-length mirror and examine my reflection.

I’m wearing a red dress that hugs my body and a lacy push-up bra that’s been sitting in my dresser since my mom gave it to me when I was fourteen—I even had to pull the tags off. But it’s padded and has an underwire and makes my breasts swell out of the top of the neckline.

“I have cleavage,” I say, turning to the side and sticking out my chest proudly as I run my hands all over my curves. My hair running down to my shoulders and the white pearls sort of clash with the sexy black heels, but it’s only minor, and for once I actually like how I look.

Because I’m not bland.

Invisible.

I radiate like fire.

For the first time ever, I feel confident.

I feel like Red.

But then my mom walks into my room, wearing nothing but a silk shorts and matching tank top with no bra, and suddenly the illusion of the goddess in the mirror shatters.

“You look nice,” she says, after opening the door.

“Thanks,” I say, reaching for my perfume on the dresser. “Is Dylan out there waiting?”

She nods and then leaves the door open as she walks away. I take a deep breath, feeling my nerves shiver inside me, but keep my chin up as I grab my purse and head out to the living room.

When I enter, Dylan has his back turned to me as he looks at some of the photos on the wall of what used to be my family. I’m not sure how to get his attention, so I clear my throat.

He turns, and I clutch onto my purse as he scans over my outfit, my hair, my body. “You look amazing,” he says with lust in his eyes that makes me glad I chose the red dress.

A slow, unsteady breath eases from my lips. “Thank you.”

He glances over me again and more lust radiates from him. “You’re welcome,” he says, and then offers me his hand.

I take it and again I feel the magic in his touch as he leads me toward the door. I thought the night was so full magic and possibilities that I was going to change because of it.

And I did.

But not for the better.