I did not totally hate it, I wouldn’t lie. Cheryl had done an amazing job having the dress procured; and it was odd to think that she had become one of my greatest allies since the Southside transferred into Riverdale. Something I had not anticipated from my breakup with Sweet Pea was a friendship with the red-haired python, but it seemed that her incessant worry over my well-being was something that I had craved.
And then, over the shared experience of the Farm and it’s heinous ways, that friendship only further grew. After spending months holed up with the Sisters of Quiet Mercy, Cheryl made it her sole mission to help me recover from what seemed to be the never-ending onslaught of trauma and torment that followed our friends around.
“Calliope, you look …” he tapered off, voice quiet and soft as though he couldn’t find the words. Sweet Pea blinked twice before a smile cracked the wonderment that filled his features.
I shrugged, patting down the material gently, “Cheryl had it customized for me. It feels like a bit much.”
“You’re breathtaking.”
I looked up from the dress and smiled, “Oh, good, I was going for pauper.”
“No, I mean it, Cal,” he urged, taking a step forward to brace his hands on my shoulders, squeezing them tightly in reassurance. “You look amazing, it’s not too much. It’s … perfectly you.”
I sighed, bringing my eyes down from his to wander over his suit. The arms were just a little too tight, but just as Cheryl predicted, Sweet Pea’s tie was a deep crimson satin, identical to the colour of my own gown.
“Did Cheryl give you this?” I asked, reaching my fingers up to smooth over the material.
“Toni, actually.” He nodded, looking down at my hand. Then, he let out a quiet huff and took a step away, “She also gave me this.”
Puzzled, I watched him turn around into his backpack and rummage around before he returned to stand in front of me, and held forward a plastic container holding what appeared to be a small trio of red roses.
“Is that a corsage?” I laughed when he nodded sheepishly and opened the lid. I held out my hand, bottom lip pulled between my teeth as he fashioned it around my wrist securely. Then, he reached into jacket and retrieved a flat box the size of his palm and offered it to me. “And this?”
He brought his hand up to touch the crystal that hung from my earlobe, squinting and critiquing the jewels. “I expected to be replacing your standard hoops.”
Curious, I opened the box in my hands quickly and let out a small gasp. Inside were two round, beautifully detailed hoop earrings with crystals placed meticulously throughout. They were gorgeous. “Sweet Pea … these are incredible.”
“Consider it an early graduation present.” Sweet Pea smiled, obviously satisfied with my approval in his taste. “I saw them a couple months ago and I was hoping to get them for your birthday, but I didn’t have enough cash so I saved --”
I glared up at him, “How much exactly did you spend on me?”
He stopped and smirked. “It’s a little rude to ask how much someone spends on you, sweetness.”
That name. I hadn’t heard it in a very, very long time. The last few times I had heard it, we had shared brief and fleeting moments. We never brought light to our unspoken feelings, but it was somehow always implied in such a simple name.
I sat down onto the chair behind me, patting the space next to me. “Cheryl really meant it when she said she didn’t want anyone going stag, huh?”
“You thought she was going to lie down and just let this … not happen?” Sweet Pea asked, brown hues waiting patiently. “Us? Prom?”
I shrugged, “You’re a little late for a promposal --”
“It’s been two years since we broke up, but we both know that this was going to happen. Or, at least I did, and honestly Calliope, you didn’t strike me as a girl that wanted an elaborate gesture.” I dropped my eyes from his gaze and stared down at the roses on my wrist; Cheryl took more interest in my past relationship with Sweet Pea more than anyone else had, surprisingly, so it was not so shocking to know she had likely played part in this, too. “I did have something planned out. Fangs and Kevin helped me, actually. I made really big letters, I was going to crash your Saturday night drinks with the girls at La Bonne Nuit, I was going to get up on stage and … I was going to sing.”
“You were going to sing?” I giggled, leaning back in my seat to leer up at him. “For me? In front of dozens of people, including our classmates?”
Sweet Pea nodded slowly, his lips cracking into a smile. “Yeah, I was. Wasn’t going to tell Veronica about it, though. Figured crashing her show would make it more authentic.”
“You mean make it more you.”
“Well, would you have said yes otherwise?”
I paused, taking a moment to consider his words. I wanted to pretend that I was capable of saying no, that I wouldn’t want to say yes to him, but the truth was, I knew that even without the pressure of everyone anticipating my answer, I would’ve said yes anyway.
“If you hit your notes just right, maybe.” I teased. Then, I nodded and gave him a smile, “I don’t think I could’ve said no, even if I wanted to. You can be incredibly persuasive, Sweets.”
Sweet Pea smiled triumphantly, happily jumping out of his seat to adjust his tie before offering me his hand. “Well, then I think we’ve got a dance to get ourselves to.”
Playing Pachelbel’s Canon on wine glasses may have been enough to win Teen Miss New Orleans, but if I wanna win Teen Miss Louisiana, I gotta step up my game.
I don’t wanna hurt you but you live for the pain
I’m not tryna say it but it’s what you became
You want me to fix you but it’s never enough
That’s why you always call me cause you’re scared to be loved
But I’ll always be there for you, boy I have no shame
Heaven if you sent us down
So we could build a playground
For the sinners
To play as saints
You’d be so proud of what we made
I hope you got some beds around
Cause’ you’re the only refuge now
For every mother
Every child
Every brother
That’s caught in the crossfire
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