Chapter 46 The absence of authority
NANCY'S POV
Diana couldn't wait to get dressed when night fell after we got back from school.
Of course, she accepted the invitation, with Mr Landon's absence being the driving force of her acceptance.
Now, I lay down in her room, with one half of my body bent over while my feet dangled from the edge of the bed, watching her pick out her outfit and giving much-needed advice.
"No, not that," I shook my head and wiggled my finger to indicate a refusal when she picked out a blood red gown from the heap of clothes she scattered on the floor.
Diana groaned in frustration, then returned to the pile, digging through.
I sighed, also frustrated, "Don't you think you're doing too much?"
Her head snapped back immediately, and she rose to her feet slowly, "Excuse me?"
I paused, thinking of a way to frame my words that wouldn't have it turn into an argument or set the mood for one.
"It's a house party, not the Met Gala."
Okay, that worked quite well because she scoffed and then sneered at me, "The Met Gala is still a party if that helps."
It didn't; it only made me chuckle while she went back to looking for what to wear.
She changed into another outfit and then rose to show me, spinning on the spot, "Is this fine?"
My eyes narrowed, and I stared pointedly at her, turning the side of my face to her, "You said casual."
She whipped out her palm as an indicator of what she had on, "This is casual."
"Oh, really?" I raised a brow then muttered, thoroughly amused, "If that is casual, then I'm scared to see you in formal wear."
Diana rolled her eyes once more but didn't initiate a response.
Instead, she ignored me and walked over to her dresser to grab a pair of earrings, which she began to put on.
I glanced at the clutter of clothes, shoes, and bags on the floor, then shook my head, muttering incredulously under my breath, "This is crazy."
If Mr Landon had the chance to walk in here, I was sure he would have a heart attack, and even if he didn't, he wouldn't be able to just keep mute for sure.
One thing I'd noticed about him was how he always liked to keep things organized, clean, and tidy.
Judging from his outfits alone, there never seemed to be anything out of place, and I'd compared myself more times to him than I could count, until I realized I was far better off than Diana, who never seemed to care that she was making a mess until she'd created one.
After putting her earrings on, she suddenly paused and stared straight at me, "What are you wearing?"
I paused briefly as well, then muttered, looking down at myself, "This."
She froze first, and then her eyes widened with an appalled look, "You're kidding. You have on jeans and a top..."
"Which I think is fit enough for a party."
"No, it isn't," She denied immediately.
"It is," I argued.
"No, it's not. You cannot go to a party looking like you're going to a school library; you should dress up nice."
"This isn't nice?"
Come to think of it, I kept my retorts coming only because I knew it would get on her nerves, and sure enough, Diana stomped her feet a moment later, "Nancy, you're just wearing this to the party."
"Not with me. Now, come on here," She flicked her fingers dramatically, gesturing for me to come closer as she walked back to her clothes. "I'm sure I can find something for you..."
I scratched the top of my nose, "I didn't ask you to..."
She shot me a glare, "I'm doing this because I need to. Now come here."
After alternating her gaze back, she added in a much softer tone, "If you don't like what I pick out, then you can change into something else. I'll be the judge."
As you can already guess, Diana gave me no choice but to listen to her, and dare I say she handled me like a little girl playing with dolls, making me put clothes on, then take them off just to take them off again.
I resigned myself to my fate and let her do whatever the fuck she wanted.
While she measured a skirt against my hips, I looked down at her face, drawn tight in frustration, then let out a question I found disturbing, "Aren't you worried your dad might suddenly show up? What if he returns after we leave?"
She stilled, then lifted her head, "Dad doesn't bar me from going to parties."
That left me confused. "But the other time, he..."
"I still don't understand that," She cut in, breaking my words. "It's strange that he did that for the first time, and while you're here too."
Up until the moment she finished dressing me up, I kept pondering that too.
Had Mr Landon changed because of me?
No, that was too far-fetched. Why would he do anything because of me?
About thirty minutes later, I stood in front of a mirror, watching my reflection with widened eyes.
"Don't you think this is unnecessary?"
Diana appeared next to me, clasping a hand over my shoulder, "You, my dear, look very hot. I wish my Dad could see you right now?"
I whirled around to face her, although the mirror would have done the same, hissing, "Why would you say that?"
She had provoked very specific thoughts and fears out of me.
"Because I can. Now, put this on," She dangled a pair of earrings in my face.
I stared searchingly at her for a couple of minutes, then sighed and snatched the earring from her grip.
"I don't want eyes on me; this looks like it'll do exactly that," I grumbled while putting on the earrings.
Diana looked closer and lowered her voice with a meaningful smile crawling into her lips, "Mason will be there?"
I paused, then friends, "What does that have to do with anything?"
"It means that he won't be able to quit staring at you."
"That doesn't mean anything," My face wrinkled harder.
Diana's smile widened into a grin, "We'll see."