Chasing Butterflies Chapter 39: Friends (Patreon)

Trisha stood with her arms crossed, patiently waiting for Olivia to collect her thoughts. Something she was grateful for, considering that she was still reeling from the encounter with Lance. It took her a second to regain her balance and reassure herself that she was really out of that situation.

“I’m… ok.” Olivia let out a long, slow breath, feeling her shoulders sag slightly with the exhale. “Thank you for the assist. He… couldn’t take a hint.”

The cheerleader nodded sharply. “Good. I thought so. You looked like you needed a hand, but I wasn’t a hundred percent sure… So, give it to me. Who was that guy? Did you know him?”

Olivia started to nod, then stopped herself and shrugged. “Kind of. He’s in band, though this was the first time we’ve talked. It seems he’s been interested in me for a while now, and, well…”

She scratched her chin with embarrassment. It felt so silly to say. Not only was that a problem she hadn’t dealt with in years—a wedding ring and kids eternally glued to her sides tended to inform bachelors that she was taken quite effectively—but it was also just so… insignificant.

It wasn’t like Lance was forcing himself on her. Not even close. This was something she should be able to deal with. A simple “no, thank you” or an “I’m not interested” would do to completely wall out any sort of advances. But she’d been too wrapped up in all the implications for her and her family’s future to say it.

I hope this was enough to ward him off. If it wasn’t… I’ll have to be more direct. I’ll have to try. Even if that comes with consequences of its own.

“Seems like he made a great first impression,” Trisha remarked dryly. A playful smile touched the corner of her mouth. “Though I can’t blame him for trying. You do look pretty phenomenal. Not to pat myself on the back too much, but that dress looks even better on you than I imagined. Nice makeup, too, very subtle!”

Olivia returned the smile. It was at that point she finally took notice of Trisha’s own appearance—specifically, the dress she was wearing.

The cheerleader wore a skintight ivory sheath that left absolutely nothing to the imagination, strapless and with a plunging neckline that should have had any respectable father barring her from leaving the house in this day and age. It honestly looked like a sorority girl dress straight out of the 2010’s. Olivia was certain that she’d seen tipsy college girls wearing something just like this at clubs. Such a scandalous garment had no place at a high school dance and should have gotten the cheerleader kicked out. But that was where her alterations came in.

Gossamer layers of white and gold fabric overlaid the more risque areas of the dress, the ethereal folds provided extra volume and layers to censor anything too objectionable. One such cluster spilled artfully across Trisha’s chest, technically covering the cleavage on display while also being see-through enough to make that cover’s efficacy questionable. The dress’s hem stretched to exactly mid-thigh and not an inch further, its side boasting a slash that stretched nearly up to her hip. A similarly tissue-thin layer of golden fabric modestly cloaked the pale skin beneath.

It was precisely calculated to be exactly within dress code in every way. At the same time, it pushed those boundaries for all they were worth.

I… probably should have expected this. I didn’t really picture Trisha as having a rebellious streak, but I guess it makes way more sense than her being a perfect little angel. Though I’m even more glad that she exercised some modesty when making my dress.

Olivia eyed the garment with a mixture of appreciation and disapproval. Just like her own dress, it was beautiful. And she would have said that Trisha even looked sexy, if she weren’t a fourteen- or fifteen-year-old girl. Though the way her makeup was done, there wasn’t a person on the planet who would have guessed she was that young. Which was… honestly, more than a little worrisome on its own.

“It… it looks fantastic,” Olivia admitted, a little unwillingly. This was no place to let her parental instincts cast judgement on the girl’s attire. “You made yours, too?”

“Of course!” The girl struck a pose. Two curls that hadn’t been pinned up in her elaborate bun brushed against bare shoulders. “I dare you to find something this good in stores.”

“I wouldn’t even try. You did a great job with both of them.”

Trisha beamed proudly. “Thank you! I love making stuff like this, you know? Shirts are one thing, but dresses? They’re totally my fave.”

“I can see that,” Olivia chuckled. “I can’t imagine you going to so much effort otherwise. By the way, that fabric…”

“Yup! It’s the same stuff I used for the white on yours.” Trisha grinned. “This was a floor-length dress, so I had a lot leftover. Good eye!”

It was oddly heartwarming to hear the two pieces shared a connection like that. But also made Olivia even more confused. Even if no one would identify the maroon dress as Trisha’s work on first inspection, the use of similar fabric between the two garments may raise eyebrows for a particularly keen observer. Was Trisha really not worried about that? After all, establishing connections between herself and a quiet, awkward band kid was certain to have social repercussions, right?

Olivia eyed the cheerleader seriously. “I have to ask… why?”

“What do you mean, why?” Trisha arched an eyebrow. “You looked like you wanted to hop that fence and make a run for it. Of course I wasn’t gonna leave you there.”

She shook her head. “No, that’s what I mean. I understand that part, and I really appreciate it. Seriously. But… why did you make me this dress?”

Trisha’s eyebrows rose. “Oh. That’s what you’re confused about? I told you, it’s payback for that drawing you did.”

Olivia gave her a flat look. “You and I both know that’s not the whole story. It can’t be. The scale of those two things aren’t even remotely comparable. That drawing took me an hour, tops. This dress?” Olivia plucked at the hem. “I can’t imagine it took any less than a week. Especially with all of these beads. And that’s before we even consider material costs.”

“The dress itself was only, like, two bucks,” Trisha defended herself. “I had all the other stuff already, too, so it was super cheap. Those pearls? I got them off of this totally uggo sweater I found a few weeks back. It was just ugh. Those were the only good part about it.”

Olivia crossed her arms and continued to stare at the cheerleader wordlessly. She hadn’t answered the question. Just latched onto the easiest part to explain and tried to ignore the rest. It was like when Cash was trying his best to convince her that someone else had hit the neighbor in the face with a softball by focusing on his own lack of a catcher’s mitt—a completely irrelevant detail presented as though it were a bombshell piece of evidence in a criminal trial.

Cash had never been the best at lying. His older brother was far better at it, but fortunately tended to do it less often. That she knew of.

“Why are you so good at that?”

She blinked. “What?”

“That look.” Trisha gestured at her face. “You totally look like my mom whenever she catches me trying to sneak out or something.”

Whoops. Maybe I need to rein in my maternal instincts a bit…

Olivia softened her expression slightly, but didn’t look away. “I just want you to be honest. I’m really confused, here.”

The cheerleader gave her a long look and sighed. “It’s really not complicated. I wanted to make you a dress, so I did. Plus, I wanted to try making something that wasn’t my usual style anyway.”

“Why me, though?” Olivia countered. “You have plenty of friends who would leap at the chance to wear something like this. Ones who would have probably modeled for you, too.”

Trisha snorted. “Oh, Livi. You can’t really think it’s that simple. If I try and make one of them a dress, it'll never stop. I’ll be up to my neck in requests for the next four years.”

That… was actually a really good point. Especially with the importance of fashion and looks among teenage girls. It would massively shoot up Trisha’s value, sure, but could she afford to be in such high demand? Not to mention there was such a thing as diminishing returns, especially for one of the most popular girls in the school.

“Then… it’s because I’m not popular?” Olivia asked. “Because even if someone figures out you’re making your own clothes, no one would imagine you’d make them for a nobody. Right?”

She didn’t mean it as an insult to herself. It was a simple statement of fact. But the narrowing of Trisha’s eyes made it clear that she didn’t see things the same way.

“Uh, first of all—you’re not a nobody. Just because you’re not in with the popular kids doesn’t mean you’re worthless—all right? Let’s just get that straight.”

Olivia raised her hands in a warding gesture. “I didn’t say I was worthless. Just that I’m not part of the same high school political structure that you are, that’s all. Which I am one-hundred percent ok with.”

The more Olivia saw of the various games teenage girls played, the less inclined she was to involve herself. Though staying away entirely was proving more difficult than expected. Especially since that same kind of mentality kept rearing its ugly head with Alyssa and the flutes.

I guess it’s not just the popular kids, after all.

Trisha relaxed slightly. “Good. Seriously, though, just because I’m a cheerleader doesn’t mean I’m a manipulative bitch like Shelly. I just… wanted to. That’s all.”

The cheerleader’s expression took on a strangely wistful quality—one that caught Olivia off-guard. Up to this point, she’d assumed Trisha’s actions came from a place of pity, at least somewhat. After all, befriending Olivia didn’t come with any obvious benefits from a social or political standpoint. Nor did she seem to be angling for academic help like Bryce needed. So why else would she do something like this?

Either the girl had some deep, unknowable plot that went far beyond mortal comprehension… Or, her actions really didn’t come from a place of self-interest. Maybe she really was just… nice.

“Ok. It seems like I’ve made some bad assumptions, here.” Olivia began, shifting the jumble of puzzle pieces about in her head. “Please don’t take this as a rude question, because I’m honestly just that oblivious—Trisha, are we friends?”

Hurt flashed across the blonde’s face for the briefest of instants. Olivia rushed to continue. “I’m not using that as a lead-in to say that we’re not. I’m genuinely asking. I’ll be honest—I didn’t think you’d want to be friends with me. I don’t exactly fit the profile of the people you seem to hang out with, not to mention I feel like I haven’t done much to deserve it. That’s why I was so confused about the dress.”

The blonde sighed, tucking a curl back behind her ear. “Is it really so weird? Geez, Livi. You’re seriously paranoid.”

Trisha straightened. “But to answer your question… Yes, we are friends. At least, I count you as a friend. And don’t start with that ‘I haven’t earned it’ stuff. You gotta start somewhere, right? Besides…” A smile touched the girl’s ruby lips. “I saw the things that you were thinking of getting at Clementine’s. It would’ve been a travesty to let someone as cute as you go to homecoming in one of those.”

Olivia’s eyebrows climbed up her forehead. Cute? Now she was just being nice. High school Olivia was only cute in an awkward, kind of pitiable way.

Although… I do look a lot different already. A glance toward the bathroom mirror filled her with a strange sense of timelessness and vertigo again. Especially tonight. Though even before this, I kept having to remind myself to hunch my shoulders and stop making eye contact… Is that enough to change my impression so drastically?

Olivia returned her attention to the cheerleader. “...Thank you. Again. I really do appreciate it. And… I think I’d like to be friends, too.”

Trisha beamed.

Their conversation was cut short as the door to the bathroom swung open behind her. Trisha’s attention shifted to look past Olivia, her demeanor snapping back to bubbly and excited in an instant.

“Ohmigosh, Trish! Where did you get that dress!”

Olivia turned to look at the newcomers. A trio of laughing girls swept inside in a cloud of sequins and glitter, their leader gasping with delight at Trisha’s appearance.

“Anne! Oh wow, your hair!” Trisha’s vulnerability evaporated like smoke as returned the compliment enthusiastically. Though Olivia noted she didn’t answer the question. “Did you do that yourself?”

Olivia stepped to the side politely as the girls began to chatter about each other’s appearances. Her head was still spinning from everything that had just happened. Between Lance and Trisha, there was a lot to process… though it made one thing clear.

I really messed things up now

Despite knowing it was true, she couldn’t bring herself to regret it. Not entirely. She more regretted the consequences that were certain to follow rather than the actions themselves. But even if she had the chance to do it all over, to go back and reconsider… she would make the same decision all over again. The alternative was just too unthinkable.

“Oh, by the way Anne!” Olivia heard Trisha say. “Did you happen to see a tall guy in purple out there? Hooked nose, scar across his eyebrow, looks kinda sleazy?”

“Hmmm…” The girl named Anne tapped her lips. “Maybe? I dunno…”

One of her friends chimed in. “I think I remember seeing a guy like that. He was kinda by the fence, I think? He looked like he was waiting for his date or something.”

Trisha’s lips pursed “Ugh. He’s definitely waiting, all right. But not for his date. He’s a creep that my friend here is trying to avoid.”

Olivia found herself abruptly becoming the center of attention. The trio seemed to register her presence for the first time, each one evaluating her as Trisha put a hand on her shoulder. “This is Olivia. Olivia, this is Anne, Selena, and Ari…”

The girls’ eyes flicked between her and Trisha, then landed on Anne. The apparent ringleader of the newcomers paused for just an instant before brightening. “Nice to meet you, Olivia! Any friend of Trisha’s is a friend of ours. By the way, you look so fetch. You have to tell me where you got that dress…”

“Lucky thrift store find,” Olivia lied smoothly. “You three look fantastic, too.”

There was another brief round of exchanged compliments as the girls took renewed interest in Olivia. Apparently, her proximity to Trisha was more than enough to mark her as a person of interest—though it was a touch embarrassing to stand out so much. Especially compared to the low profile she’d been keeping up until this point. Then, Trisha cocked one hip and raised an eyebrow. Golden fabric shimmered beneath the slit of her dress.

“Well. Sounds like we’ve got some work to do.” A sly smile crept across the blonde’s face. “How do you ladies feel about helping a girl sneak out of here?”