Chasing Butterflies Chapter 36: Playing Dress-Up (Patreon)

Ridgeview won the game. Barely.

It was well known that homecoming games tended to be against less capable opponents, giving the home team a chance to secure an easy victory. However, when your team was near the bottom of the rankings, that didn’t always play out as planned. But the team still managed to rally and pull off a narrow comeback in the last minutes of the game—which, to Olivia, was far more interesting than a straight blowout anyway.

The only other real point of interest during the game was halftime. That was when the homecoming court paraded around the track atop decorated trailers.

Just around the track? Not a parade through the entire town? Ashwood would never.

When the float for junior prince and princess rolled around, she half expected to see Bryce atop it. But instead of her Algebra classmate, a different football player stood there, blonde and still clad in his padded uniform. The boy waved at the crowd alongside a slim brunette, his perfect teeth flashing under the stadium lights.

“That guy totally stole my spot.”

“We’ve been over this, Daryl.”

“I’m serious! I had a great campaign going for me!”

“Pffft.”

“Yeah? Who was voting for you, your sister?”

“Well, no… She voted for that Wyatt guy…”

“You’re kidding.”

“Your own sister?! Dang. Thank goodness she’s smarter than you.”

Olivia had no idea who this Wyatt guy was, of course. But between being on varsity football, his obvious charisma, and a face that looked like it belonged on a young actor, it wasn’t hard to figure out why he’d won the coveted spot.

Still feels gross to even think about whether high schoolers are attractive. Yuck.

The band continued to trash talk the passing floats and their occupants until the game resumed. But that was only the appetizer. After the next morning’s band practice, Olivia returned home to prepare for the real event that everyone had been waiting for. The homecoming dance.

***

She stood in front of a mirror in her room, looking down at her reflection. The cream-colored dress from Clementine’s Curiosities fell loosely to her knees. The floral pattern twisting across its entire surface wasn’t bad, necessarily. But it did make the piece look more at home in a grandmother’s house or at Sunday church service than a high school dance.

Olivia twisted, its pleats shifting with the movement. It’s not perfect. But it fits better than anything else I found. So it’ll have to do.

Even in her last life, she hadn’t been old enough to wear this particular style of clothing. But, well, it was her own fault. She hadn’t wanted to spend a lot of money, nor had she let herself use the dress she was supposed to get. The result was this.

Her eyes trailed toward the rectangular white box on her desk. She stared at it for a long moment, unable to look away despite herself.

…It wouldn’t hurt to just see how it looks. Right? Oh, who am I kidding. I am a bit curious.

Shucking the floral fabric off, Olivia pulled open the box and slid into the maroon dress that Trisha had gifted her. It felt cool against her skin. Even without looking in the mirror to confirm, she already knew that it fit perfectly. Snug, but not overly tight in all the right places.

How in the world did she get my measurements? Did she just eyeball it?

She had to admit—the dress looked even better than it had in the box. The ivory of the shoulder and split hem contrasted beautifully against her skin, her pale complexion having darkened a shade or two from all the outdoor marching practice. The red also worked incredibly well with her dark hair, far better than her original blue dress. Curiously, she fiddled with one of the pearlescent beads studding the surface. It was secured more firmly than expected, meaning she didn’t have to worry so much about accidentally losing one.

Olivia smiled, allowing herself to admire herself and the dress for a minute. Then she sighed and shook her head.

…I can’t. That’s even more clear now. It’s way too big of a gift for me to accept, especially from someone I’m not supposed to know well.

With a final longing look in the mirror, Olivia slipped back out of the dress and set it in the box. She had only just gotten the floral one back on when there was a knock at her door.

“Come in.”

The door swung open without hesitation. Her mom beamed at her from the threshold. “Hey, sweetie! Just checking to see if you’re ready!”

Chandra’s eyes scanned Olivia from top to bottom. The very slightest tightening of her eyes revealed her misgivings about Olivia’s chosen outfit. But the woman hid it well and didn’t voice any objection. Olivia wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

Ignoring the look, she nodded in answer. “Yup. Is it time to go already?”

“Oh, goodness, no.” Chandra waved a hand emphatically. “But it is time for hair and makeup!”

Tubes of lipstick, foundation, and eyeliner appeared between the woman’s fingers as though by magic. Looking past her, Olivia saw that the bathroom had been entirely commandeered to host a full assortment of other cosmetic products, their neat lines crowding out her own toiletries.

She winced slightly. “Mom… I don’t really wear makeup.”

Well, not right now. Later on in life, she would take to wearing some every once in a while. But even that was light and subtle. Nothing like the dramatic eyeshadow and contouring that her mom wore like armor.

Her mom brightened. “That’s perfectly all right, sweetie! I’ll help you out. It’s your first high school dance, you simply have to look your best!”

Olivia eyed the woman’s own makeup. I will admit, she’s good at this. Way better than any high schooler I’ve seen. But it is definitely not my style. Not now, not ever.

Still, refusing outright didn’t seem like a particularly viable option. Especially not for old Olivia.

What did I do last time? Did I just go along with it? Probably, right?

She was still mulling over her approach when she heard her mom gasp. “What is that?”

Olivia followed her gaze and froze. The woman wasn’t looking at her. She was looking at Olivia’s desk. More specifically, the white box sitting atop it, with a pearl-studded maroon dress sitting right in the open.

Before she could open her mouth, her mom was at the desk and drawing the dress out. Her eyes sparkled with delight as she looked the piece up and down. “Olivia, sweetie! Where in the world did you get this?! It’s gorgeous!”

Her mouth worked silently. Her mind raced, searching desperately for ways to keep the situation from devolving any further. Or was it too late for that?

She briefly kicked herself for not closing the box. Two seconds of effort would have spared her so much trouble. She should have covered it up, should have made sure it couldn’t be seen so easily—

Olivia took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down. It’s ok. What’s done is done. Now, I just need to figure out what to do.

Her mom looked between her and the dress. “Were you just comparing them? If so, my vote is firmly with this one. Unless there’s something wrong with it? If it doesn’t fit, I might be able to pull off a few quick alterations—”

“That’s not it, mom.” Olivia cut in, shaking her head. “It fits. I just… wasn’t planning to wear it.”

Chandra’s eyebrows rose. “Why not, sweetie? I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’re beautiful in whatever you wear, but this…”

It wasn’t hard to read between the lines. Trisha’s dress so thoroughly outclassed her current one that setting it aside seemed unthinkable. The difference was so stark that arguing she liked the grandmother dress better would be an exercise in futility. A lie like that wouldn’t fool anyone with eyes.

She sighed, going for a different angle. A more truthful one. “I know. I would just feel guilty wearing it.”

“But why?”

Olivia shifted. “It’s… it’s almost too nice. I was thinking of returning it.”

Chandra’s expression turned serious. “Olivia. There is no such thing as ‘too nice’ for you, sweetie. If you asked for the moon itself, that still wouldn’t be a fraction of what you deserve.”

“No! No, that’s not what I mean.” She quickly corrected. “I’m not saying that I’m not good enough for the dress or anything. I just… If I got it myself that would be one thing, but…”

Her mom’s eyes widened. “It was a gift? Well, sweetie. That’s even more reason to wear it! You can’t simply let a present like this go unused!”

Olivia grimaced. “I get it. Really, I do. But it’s way too big of a gift. I barely even know the girl who gave it to me, and I doubt there’s any way I’ll be able to pay her back for it.”

Assuming this isn’t some 4D chess level manipulation going on here. Though if this was an attempt to bribe me or make me indebted to her, I really have no idea why. She barely knows me either, and unless she’s trying to recruit me for some criminal enterprise, it’s still way too big of a gift.

Her mom fell silent for a moment, lowering the dress. Her expression softened. “Sweetie. I understand where you’re coming from, believe me. And I know it may feel like a lot. But.” She gestured toward the maroon and ivory fabric. “The fact that your friend even gave it to you means something. It means that she wants you to have it, that she wants you to be friends. Hey, maybe she thinks of you as a better friend than you realize.

“The point is, your friend wouldn’t have given it to you if she didn’t want you to have it. To wear it. And gifts… well, they’re gifts. They’re not something we expect to be paid back for in the first place. So the best thing you can do is show your appreciation.”

Chandra held the dress out. The pearlescent beads sparkled in the warm amber glow of a nearby lamp. Olivia eyed the garment hesitantly.

“It’s not just about your feelings. It’s about hers, too,” Chandra continued. “How would she feel if you show up wearing a different dress?”

“I know, I know.” Olivia resisted the urge to rub at her temples. She knew perfectly well how Trisha would likely feel. Hurt, offended, disappointed, probably some combination of all three. But she’d deemed that a worthwhile sacrifice to keep things even remotely on track.

But… will I even accomplish that? Of all the changes I’ve already made, I feel like this one doesn’t even rank in the top three. And that’s not even considering the fact that I’m already going to be wearing a different dress than last time around.

The longer she let herself consider the problem, the more she found her resolve wavering. Her mom did have a point. One that she’d obviously thought of, but had been trying to suppress in order to not feel like a complete jerk. And besides… She really did want to wear the dress.

It was an incredibly selfish motivation underlying everything else. But hard to deny nonetheless.

Eventually, Olivia relented. She reached out a hand to accept the dress. “All right. Give me a minute to get changed.”

Honestly, deciding not to wear it may well result in more severe consequences than the alternative. Not that she thought Trisha would actually try and make her life hell or anything. But the teenager psyche was a fragile thing. If she was going to try and distance herself from the girl, it was better to do it slowly and carefully rather than by burning the bridge outright. Or simply try and set more reasonable boundaries on this strange friendship she found herself being dragged into.

Chandra smiled. “I’m glad, sweetie. And good thing, too. I didn’t see a tag on there. So unless she has a receipt, returning the dress would be a no-go.”

Olivia smiled wryly. Now didn’t feel like the time to mention this dress had been custom made. That little detail would make her mom even more baffled that she’d even considered another option.

“Anyway!” Her mom brightened once more. “You go right ahead and get changed. Then we’ll do makeup. All right?”

Olivia hung her head with a sigh. She’d kind of hoped her mom would forget about her initial mission. But of course, there was absolutely no chance of that.

“...Ok. We’ll do makeup. But.” She barreled forward before the woman could interrupt. “I’m going to do it myself. Er. If that’s ok.”

She tried to soften the uncharacteristically decisive statement. But if her mom noticed the discrepancy with how old Olivia usually talked, she didn’t mention it. Instead, Chandra’s eyebrows rose. “Of course, sweetie! That’s a fantastic idea! I’ll help you out with anything you need. And oh, don’t worry about if something looks a little off. We have plenty of time, even if we need to wash it all off and start over. Though maybe we should do the makeup first, then? Just to make sure nothing gets on the dress…”

Olivia couldn’t suppress a small smile. It was hard to blame her mom for having so little faith. Hadn’t she just admitted to not wearing makeup in the first place?

“It’ll be fine. I’ll be careful.”

I don’t mind. As long as she lets me do my thing, it’ll be fine.

To her mom’s credit, she did. They moved to the bathroom and Olivia started working on her face as her mom worked on hair. Occasionally, Chandra would offer a suggestion more in line with her own style—darker lipstick, more dramatic eyeliner, mascara and the like. But Olivia held firm, keeping her application minimal. By the end, even her mom looked a little impressed.

“Wow! Good job, sweetie.” She looked over her daughter’s face with a critical eye. “You look fantastic. Not that you need makeup to look beautiful, obviously, but, well.”

“Thanks mom.” Olivia looked at herself in the mirror. The slight improvements to her hygiene were working wonders. Her acne wasn’t nearly as bad as she remembered, the few residual marks masked by a light dusting of foundation.Her hair looked more full and sleek than before as well, falling about her shoulders in loose dark curls. Together with the dress, everything had come together quite nicely.

I… I look like myself again.

The thought made her pause. It wasn’t exact, of course. Some of her youthful features would require quite a bit more makeup to reconcile with her own mental image, and she still had a few inches of height to grow into. Not to mention the differences in body shape that proper exercise and motherhood had brought her.

But despite all those small differences, it was true. This was the closest she’d ever looked to her adult self but a mile. Even this dress looked more along the lines of something she would wear on a date with Jason, far removed from her current wardrobe of old tees and worn jeans.

The realization was… disquieting. It was a stark reminder of just how far she’d drifted off course, even over this short month. Maybe going with this dress hadn’t been the right idea. After all, who knew how much further things would change going forward?

Especially considering what was in store for her at the dance.

Her mom gave her a quick peck on the top of her head, pulling her from her thoughts. “You look beautiful, sweetie. Now come on! Let’s go show your father and get you to the dance!”

With one last look in the mirror, Olivia nodded and headed downstairs. Wallowing in her own shortcomings would have to wait. Now, it was time for the main event. The homecoming dance itself.