The survivor

Eight

Courtney Striker stood in front of the dressing-room mirror in Warwick’s Costume Rentals and frowned at her reflection. The nurse costume was sexy — and she wanted that, wanted something that would attract the eyes of every boy she met during the Parade of Lost Souls on Friday — but it was a pretty common costume, cliched, and well, just not her.

Besides, Raine had already gotten one. And if Raine was gonna wear one to the Parade of Lost Souls, then there was no way she was going to wear one too. With the exception of Courtney’s abs, Raine definitely had the better body. She was a half foot taller and had long slender legs; Courtney’s were shorter and more muscular.

Raine had bigger boobs that looked ready to pop right out of the costume; Courtney’s were small and perky.

Raine had skin like caramel; Courtney’s was white as milk foam.

And Raine had dark chocolate fuck-me eyes, as Bobby Ryan, the captain of the hockey team, had put it yesterday. Courtney’s eyes were blue. Not radiant blue. Or iceberg blue. Or even winter-sky blue. They were just an ordinary plain blue.

Hell, when it came right down to it, none of her features compared with Raine’s.

The thought soured Courtney’s mood. She reached behind her back and began unbuttoning the dress. She’d barely gotten it halfway undone when Raine tore open the curtain and stuck her head inside the small change room.

‘What you think, Court?’

Courtney shrugged, made a face. ‘Something else maybe.’

‘But we could go as twins. Two nurses — it would be, like, sooo cool. Especially later when we’re at the concert.’

‘No. Something else.’

Raine switched bags. ‘How ’bout this then? That Disney Princess, the redheaded one — Ariel. It’s perfect for you!’

‘You mean the Little Mermaid?’ Courtney looked at the picture on the bag and saw nothing but a low-riding tail and a green-clam bra on the supermodel displaying it. She felt her cheeks get hot. ‘That shows like waaay too much.’

Raine grabbed another bag. ‘Little Bo Peep?’

Courtney felt her cheeks get even redder. ‘Why does it say Adult Fantasy on the corner of the bag?’

Raine looked down. ‘Ooops, this one is crotchless.’ She giggled, then said, ‘Oh, I know! I know for real this time.’ She swished the curtain closed and disappeared again.

Courtney said nothing, she just kept undoing the buttons behind her back and wondered if a push-up bra would help to even her and Raine out. Probably not. It wasn’t fair. Raine was gorgeous. Voluptuous. Everything.

Christ.

Courtney stripped off the dress, hung it on the hook and slumped down on the dressing-room bench, wearing nothing but her bra and panties, and waited for the next costume Raine could dig up.

The change room was small, a cubicle Courtney could barely turn around in, and it had a cinnamon-like smell from some scented candles or perfume or something. It bothered her allergies. She sat there, feeling a little chilled from the store air-conditioning and wishing Raine would hurry up, and wondering if she was ever going to find something that looked hot on her.

‘Try this!’ Raine said as she burst back through the curtain.

The unexpected movement startled Courtney, and she giggled from surprise. She looked at the costume in Raine’s hand and saw dark red satin and black silk.

‘What is it?’

‘Little Red Riding Hood. It goes perfectly with your hair.’

When Courtney held it up and saw how short the skirt was, she swallowed nervously. ‘I dunno, there’s not much to the skirt.’

‘Exactly. And it comes with super-high-heeled boots. Trust me, it’ll be hot.’

‘You sure?’

‘Of course I am. Look at how the red silk sticks to your belly. You got the flattest stomach out of all the girls — the guys’ll love it. They’ll wanna drink margarita shooters outta your belly button.’

The comment made Courtney smile, and she looked at the dress again, this time feeling a little more confident. She was about to try it on when her phone rang. She hoped it was Bobby Ryan — God, he was, like, Jonas Brother hot — and frowned when she read the caller ID.

DAD.

Raine saw. ‘Don’t answer — you’ll have to go home.’

‘Believe me, I’m not.’

She waited for the phone to finish ringing, then scrolled through the missed calls. She saw his number on there four times.

‘Principal Myers must’ve called him,’ she said.

‘So your dad knows you’re skipping.’

Courtney leaned back against the change-room wall, slumped down defeated. ‘I’m dead. I am so dead. He’s gonna ground me for sure. He’ll ruin everything. The party, the concert… I wish Mom was still around.’

For a moment, both girls said nothing. Then Raine took control. She grabbed the dress and held it against Courtney’s chest. Made a whistling sound, and her lips took on a mischievous grin.

‘Deep dark red, baby. Brings out your hair. And red is hot, hot, hot!’

Courtney grinned. ‘You think?’

‘For sure. Bobby Ryan’s gonna love it!’

Both girls broke out into a series of excited giggles.

‘Come on,’ Raine urged. ‘Try it on.’

Courtney took the dress, looked at the price tag and almost choked. ‘Have you seen this?’

‘So?’

Her cheeks flushed. ‘I don’t… I don’t have that kind of money.’

‘Who says you need to?’

Courtney gave a nervous look towards the sales clerk who was standing just outside the curtain.

‘I’m not stealing anything,’ she whispered.

Raine let out a high-pitched laugh. ‘Well, duh. I’ll buy it for you.’

‘It’s almost two hundred bucks.’

Raine smiled. ‘Being sexy don’t come cheap, Court.’

‘You’re missing the point — it’s almost two hundred bucks.’

‘Hundred schmundred. It’s nothing.’

Courtney looked at the dress, then back at Raine. ‘You got that kind of money?’

Raine laughed again. ‘My mom does.’ Before Courtney could say more, Raine wheedled, ‘Come on, Court, put it on.’

Courtney finally gave in. She stepped into the dress, felt the silk and satin slide up her body, and felt good in it. Felt sexy. She turned around so Raine could zip up the back, then pulled her long, reddish-brown hair free so that it spilled all around her shoulders.

‘Friggin’ perfect,’ Raine said.

Courtney looked at herself in the mirror, stared where the material clung to her like a second skin, her belly showing through the thin red satin. Raine was right. She did have a flat stomach.

And she did look good.

Her phone vibrated against the hard wooden surface of the bench, and she reached down and turned it off.

No way in hell Dad was screwing this up too.

She needed the costume. They’d gotten front-row tickets for Britney Spears on Friday, and it was gonna rock hard. But before that, they were going to the Parade of Lost Souls party. They had to.

Bobby Ryan was going to be there.