Free Got Thrills? A Boxed Set (A McCray Collection) by Carolyn McCray Page B

situation clearly? She didn’t need to go out, but she needed everyone to help her clean. Plus, she still had to deal with her little brother’s delinquency issue.
    “I would love to—I really would,” Cecilia said, not exactly meaning it. “But I’ve got Jeremy upstairs cooling down and—”
    Her mother shook her head. “No, he just texted me. He’s gone over to Evan’s for the night.”
    “No, no, no,” Cecilia said. “Jeremy can’t just ditch everything, and then go have—”
    “Cecilia,” her mom said firmly, and then smiled to soften her tone. “Whatever he’s done, we can deal with tomorrow.”
    Ugh! So many things were wrong with that statement. First of all, who knew if her mother would even remember this conversation, or even be sober enough to have it tomorrow? Way too much of Jeremy’s crappy behavior just kept getting swept under the rug. But no one in the room wanted to talk about that. Cecilia almost felt sorry for her two friends, stuck watching this spectacle. She needed this conversation to be over, so she tried a different tack.
    “Even so,” Cecilia said trying to reason with the estrogen in the room. “I’ve still got laundry to do, and I have to make dinner.”
    Her mom put her hands on Cecilia’s shoulders. “I can order a pizza.”
    Cecilia groaned. “But, Mom, we don’t have the money.”
    “My disability check posted. We have the seven dollars.” Her mom smiled, like she used to. “Would you please, for just one night, be a completely obnoxious, self-centered, and irresponsible teenager? For me? Please?”
    How could Cecilia say no? Not to the woman who used to sing her lullabies.
    “You’ll use the coupon on the fridge?” Her mother nodded. Cecilia really could not think of anything else to use as an excuse. “Okay, fine. I’ll go.”
    Her mother mouthed “thank you,” as Helen and Francesca whooped, dragging her out of the kitchen and up the stairs. They were in her room within seconds.
    Helen became the fashion slave driver. “Cecilia, get that dreck-a-tude of a dress off. Francesca, get the makeup ready, and I will—”
    “Hold on,” Cecilia said. “I don’t need a bunch of eyeliner and mascara.”
    “Um,” Helen said as she brought up an expensive-looking shopping bag. “You are going to need it and want it when you see what we brought you.”
    Helen pulled out the most gorgeous crushed velvet dress that Cecilia had ever seen. It was midnight black, with the tiniest golden symbols sewn into the fabric. It was as though a fanciful dream was given physical form.
    “Wow! How could you guys afford this?”
    Francesca carefully smoothed the fabric. “Let’s just say you need to keep the tag tucked in, and do not spill anything on it.”
    Cecilia backed away. “Oh, no! You mean, you are going to try to return it?”
    “Heck, yeah. All three of our dresses.” Helen snorted. “And before my dad figures out that I borrowed his plastic.”
    “No,” Cecilia stated. She did not want that kind of responsibility. If anything happened to that dress, and Helen got into trouble…  Cecilia couldn’t bear it. “I can’t.”
    But Helen shook a finger at her. “Don’t start, or I will drag your mother back into this.”
    Oh, if her mother saw this dress, she would insist that Cecilia put it on. There’s no way that her mom would be on her side in this argument. When Cecilia didn’t fuss anymore, Helen shoved her toward the bathroom.
    “Well, then, sit in that chair so that Francesca can give you one of her ‘speed’ makeovers, and I will wrestle that hair of yours into submission.”
    Cecilia did not bother to resist as Helen pushed her down into a chair. Immediately. Francesca began tweezing and plucking and exfoliating—sometimes at the same time. “Speed makeover” was right. And Helen never met a can of hair spray she did not like. As her friends worked, Cecilia began to worry that maybe she was being punked—that after all of this primping