Chapter One Hundred and Thirteen

Havermouth, Five Years Before

Rhett drove Aislen home an hour after school finished. With his music blaring, there was little conversation on the drive, but as he put the car into park, he turned it down, and leaned over the central console to kiss her, his fingers stroking through her hair. (I hope Heath is right…) He leaned back and smiled, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “We’ll wag school again tomorrow, alright?”

“Alright,” she agreed, wondering what Heath was right or wrong about, and whether it had anything to do with her and the scholarship.

“I had fun today, did you?” He asked.

“Yeah,” she replied. It wasn’t entirely a lie, she told herself. She had enjoyed the day. There had been, as there always seemed to be with the Triquetra, moments of pain interspersed, mostly because her heart refused to accept what her mind had always known – that they were just passing the time with her. “It was fun.

“I…” She hesitated and looked up at him, meeting his eyes before dropping her gaze again. “I like you, Rhett,” she shrugged awkwardly, feeling her cheeks heat. Fuck, she thought. She sounded juvenile substituting one L word for another, but if it were this hard to say “like,” what would it be like to say what she truly meant? “I mean… I like you, and Heath and Cameron, despite it all. Like, I really like you… You know?”

He swallowed. “Aislen…” He said with gentleness.

“I know,” she said, and reached for the door handle. “I know.”

She slid out of the car before the words had left her lips and heard him say something as she closed the door behind her. Their eyes met through the car window as the reflection of her mother appeared behind her, and she saw Rhett grimace.

She turned to face her mother. “Hi, mum.”

Behind her, Rhett reversed out of the driveway.

“Good, you’re home,” Tiffany said. “Let’s go.”

“Go?” Aislen said, baffled.

“Go,” Tiffany’s heels clipped on the paving of the path as she made her way towards her car. “Come on then, Aislen.”

“Fuck,” Aislen muttered under her breath as she followed. She threw her bag into the backseat before getting into the front passenger side. “Where are we going?” She asked, as Tiffany started the car and reversed down the driveway.

“I had a look in your suitcase, and I can’t send you to art school like that. You need new underwear, bras, clothes, shoes… So, we,” Tiffany grinned at her, “are going shopping. Of course, Havermouth doesn’t offer much in the way of clothing stores, but we’ll find enough.”

“Mum,” Aislen protested. If she had a choice between visiting the dentist and going shopping with Tiffany, the dentist would win, hands down. She already knew that the outcome of the trip would be that she would return with bags of clothing that she would never wear, and both she and Tiffany would be growling at each other, irritated beyond tolerance. “You don’t have to…”

“I know, Aislen,” Tiffany said, as she pulled into a car park. She turned to face Aislen. “I promise, I’ll keep my opinions to myself… as much as I can,” she amended. “This is your birthday present from your dad and me. This, and your father will take you out tomorrow to look at the used car dealerships in Trayrock.

“But you’re right, it’s pretty crappy to give you something using your own money, and what with one thing and another…” Tiffany gestured with her hands. “Well, we’d like to do this for you. So, you get what you want. But before we go… Moving to Rideten is your opportunity, Aislen, to remake yourself into the person that you want to be, and how you present yourself to the world is a big part of that. So, think of the clothes you pick as contributing to that overall remake of Aislen, and pick carefully.”

“Okay,” Aislen was touched. “Thanks, mum.”

“Let’s go,” Tiffany smiled brightly as she opened the door.

In the lingerie shop, Aislen picked out a few sets in white, nude, and black, before a corset caught her eye. She held it up against herself.

“Oh, pretty,” Tiffany approved.

Aislen flicked her a smile. “I like it.”

They browsed through a few boutique shops, but Aislen was hesitant to buy just anything, Tiffany’s words very much in her mind. If she could remake herself, what would that Aislen look like? She wondered.

“The neckline is pretty. It’s a pity it’s only in black, though, and too long,” Tiffany held a black dress up against herself and pulled a face. “If it was in a softer colour, I might be tempted and take up the hem to above the knee.”

“You could do that?” Aislen considered the dress. It was pretty, she thought, and reminded her of Rhett.

“Do what darling?” Tiffany replaced the dress on the rack.

“Take it up,” Aislen claimed it and held it before herself in the mirror. “I like it, but you’re right, it’s too long.”

Tiffany’s eyes lit up. “Yes, absolutely, that would be easy.”

“Thanks, mum.”

Tiffany fought back tears as she gave a little shrug. “I’m glad that you like it. Maybe we’re not so different in our tastes after all.”

“Maybe not,” Aislen agreed. “If you see anything else like this…”

“I’ll let you know.”

In the third dress shop, Aislen tried on a crushed velvet black dress with long sleeves and a scooped neckline that hugged her to her knees, twisting and turning in front of the mirror, wondering if she was bold enough to wear something so clinging.

“I like it,” she said to Tiffany. “I love the neckline, the sleeves, and the fabric. But… It feels like I should be going to some elegant red-carpet thing.”

Tiffany pursed her lips. “We could take it up to just below the knees?”

A woman stepped out of the other change room, and Aislen met her eyes in the mirror, feeling a shock of recognition. “Dr. James,” she stammered.

“… Aislen,” Dr. James said, and her eyes went to Tiffany, who smiled, although she was clearly curious.

“This is my mum,” Aislen said uncomfortably.

“Ah, it’s nice to meet you,” Dr. James said in automatic politeness.

“You too, Dr. James,” Tiffany replied, with open curiosity. Dr. James ducked back into her change-room and Aislen made a face in the mirror to Tiffany, who shrugged off the demand for explanation. “Well, shall we get the dress?” Tiffany wondered.

“Yeah.”

“Great. Try on the next one, then. I’ll go browse in the shop.”

When Aislen changed her dress and stepped out, Dr James’ changeroom was empty. She finished trying on the outfits and got dressed again into her own clothing, looking out as she did, for Tiffany, and not seeing her. As she wandered out into the main shop, carrying her choices, she saw Tiffany, Dr. James, and the store owner gathered together and whispering amongst themselves, urgently.

As she stopped, they all looked up at her.

Aislen knew the feeling that hit her in the pit of her stomach. She had experienced it before at school, when she walked in on a group of girls gossiping about how she was the Triquetra’s whore. She met Tiffany’s eyes, and any warmth that had been building between them over the shopping trip was cut off. The rebound of it was like the painful snap of a rubber band against the tender surface of her heart.

She drew in a breath, filling her lungs, inflating herself with it so that her chin lifted, rather than sank to her chest in shame, and she walked over to the counter and slapped the dresses down on the surface. “I’ll take all of these,” she declared. “And that jacket,” she pointed to a two-hundred-dollar leather jacket that she hadn’t tried on as she knew that it was too expensive. “And a pair of those boots,” she pointed to a pair of thigh highs. “Thank you.”