CHAPTER 3

Gia

With a tug of resentment, I remove my shirt and slid the jeans down my long legs that Maria envied.

“I’m putting this thing on but if too much skin shows, I’m not coming out.”

“Che palle! I may kill you for calling my work of art a ‘thing.’ Hurry.” The frustration remained heavy in her voice and I knew I wouldn’t escape this night of horror.

Maria had little patience to begin with and I’d pushed it too far. With a groan she could hear, I slid the material over my head and allowed it to slink down my body. Black silk, or a silk-like material, with a sheer see-through mesh weave that showed skin. Lots of skin. I glanced in the mirror and groaned louder and removed my underwear because it showed.

“It’s perfect, isn’t it?” came from behind the door.

“I hate you,” I repeated.

The dress wasn’t me but it was flawless or at least would be if I were going to a strip club to perform. The sheer parts would tear free from the silk with the slightest tug or so it seemed. I felt indecent and couldn’t wear it.

“Yes, you can,” Maria argued because she knew my thoughts like the stylish witch she was. “Live a little. Get wild. I have your back and you know it. I won’t leave your side and I’ll ball-bust any guy who tries to pin you against a wall and believe me, they will try.”

“You’re not helping.” I opened the door and stepped out.

“Holy shit, girl,” she said, then whistled with her hands going hairy scary and endangering me of having an eye poked out.

“You wear it like it’s made for you.” She met my eyes and winked. “It totally was.” Her forefinger spun for me to turn. “I take that back,” she said when the turn was complete. “You wear it like it’s painted on.” She brought out a pair of black leather lace-up boots and a black thong from behind her back. “I’m not making you go bottomless and the boots will take your killer outfit up another notch.”

“An inch shorter would help,” I complained and glared at the ridiculous four-inch heels.

I’m five eight and the heels would put me at six feet. I would hover over most of the senior guys. I’m relieved about the thong and don’t want her taking it back so I zipped my mouth shut.

Maria’s eyes rolled before she winked again. The wink is her signature and something else she practiced in the mirror.

“Look down on those people, Gia. They are beneath you.”

She moved her head in a practiced manner and her hair swooshed from side to side, then dropped back into its perfect pixie place. Her lips were the color of candied cherries and her makeup gave her eyes the perfect sultry look for her outfit.

I grabbed the thong and ducked back into the bathroom, slipped it on, and applied a little mascara. I saw a few stray eyebrows trying to pave the way for the Italian unibrow and plucked them. I added a touch of blush which is all I felt comfortable with before I left the bathroom and walked into our living area.

Our suite was much like a penthouse apartment. We each had a private bedroom with a seating area and full bath, a walk-in closet the size of most normal dorm rooms, and a full state-of-the-art kitchen to share between the two of us.

This was the senior dorm. As freshmen we shared four to a room and had one bathroom between us. Living hell is what it was. Each time we moved up the yearly ladder, our surroundings became more luxurious. Just as our lives would be after graduation.

I moved aside some of Maria’s never-ending swaths of material that covered every available surface. We’d just arrived the day before and they already cluttered everything. We would set rights to the dorm this weekend but by next week, her material would be spread around again. I didn’t mind.

I sat and pulled on the boots. They dripped sex like an overpriced hooker. My father would come out of his suit if he saw me. According to him, I should always wear diamonds and full-length gowns that cost more than most people’s yearly salary. He would have a coronary and I would be sent home faster than I could scream my virginity was still intact.

Maria fussed with her nails while I had another internal breakdown. Her outfits all screamed wild sex with no inhibitions. That wasn’t me. But I had a small talk with myself before this year began. I had no way of knowing when my future husband would come out of the woodwork. He could already be chosen and I could walk into a wedding when I arrived home from graduation. He could also be old and sexually out of his prime. I wanted to live a little or maybe a lot. I dared myself to do it and here I was trying to back down.

This year was my last chance. If a man hadn’t been chosen, I would be paraded out when there was someone to impress. As the family jewel, I would be watched and controlled. Basically, my life would be a boring hell.

It was a thought I hated.

“Want some liquid courage?” Maria asked at the same time she pulled out a pint of boutique tequila.

She tried to grab glasses but I jumped up, almost breaking my neck in the heels, and made a mad dash toward her, twisting the bottle from her hand. I lifted it and tilted my head back. It was my live-a-little guarantee.

“There’s the princess I know and love,” Maria said with the most genuine smile I’d seen today.

I took another swig and flipped my middle finger. Her grin inched up a notch. I handed the bottle over and she tossed it back.

“We really needed limes but hey, I can handle it.” Her mouth twisted into a half tequila tornado with a cough. “Waw,” she declared once she recovered. “How do you do that?”

“What?” I asked as the alcohol soothed my nerves.

“You don’t even make a face,” she complained.

I gave my first smile of the night. “I like the taste.”

“You’re pretty strange for a plushdog.”

“I hate that word,” I said for the hundredth time since our freshman year.

“Come on,” she bumped my hip with hers. “You could be the princess at this school. It’s our year and it’s our time. Life waits outside and we’ll never be seniors again.” She waved the bottle toward the hall outside our door.

Sadness shot through me at her words.

“You’ll be a senior in college before you know it. It’s me who will never be a senior again.”

Gloom flashed in her eyes and I was sorry I said it.

“I won’t have my bestie with me so it won’t count,” she said and I knew she meant it.

I don’t tell her she’ll have a new bestie and I’ll be married. Most likely by her college senior year, I would be on my second child. Maria’s older brother would continue their family’s tradition of loyalty to the Rossi’s. I would no longer be Rossi and loyalty to me would be nonexistent. No matter what, we would remain friends but it would be different.

No feeling sorry for myself. This was my life and I accepted it. I had a year to live before the Rossi walls closed in. I wanted my virginity to be a thing of the past; I just didn’t know how to go about it and there was no way I would tell Maria my plan. She would never shut up about which guy would be the best to do the deed. I wanted someone I felt safe with, and at this school, it was asking too much. I refused to give up, though, and would look around tonight for a possibility.

We did another round from the bottle before we stepped outside to walk the short distance to the party.

It was time to be the Rossi.