The Lofties (The Echelon Book 2) by Ramona Finn (no david read aloud .txt) 📕

round. “I just hate typing, is all. They put the letters out of order. And as far as the ball goes...” She looked me up and down, taking in my fuzzy pajama bottoms, my oversized hoodie poncho. “I didn’t think it’d be your thing.”

I huffed, frustrated. Ona wasn’t wrong. The ball held no interest for me beyond its venue, but admitting as much felt like defeat.

“I’ve barely seen you all week,” I said. “You’re always shopping, or you’re—” My phone chirped. So did Ona’s. She reached for hers, and I saw red. “Really? You’re blowing me off mid-sentence?”

“I’m not blowing you off. I’m just checking, in case—”

“Check it later. Nine times out of ten, it’s an ad, or one of those shop coupon things. It’ll still be there later, or—”

“It’s Elli.” Ona’s eyes lit up. “She’s taking us shopping for the ball.” She jumped up and down, shoes swinging wildly. “We can grab lunch after, you and me. Or you can draw me in my dress. I’ve seen you with that sketchbook, all—”

“Are you serious?”

“What?” Ona’s lips gathered into a pout. “Please, please don’t do this.”

“Do what?”

“Ruin this for me. Just—just... Just let me enjoy this. We only get one ball, just for us. You can make fun of me later, but today, just for now, can’t you pretend—?” Her voice had gone reedy, like a kid begging for sweets. I wanted to smack her. I sighed instead, and felt myself deflate.

“All right,” I said. “When’s Elli picking us up?”

“She’s meeting us in an hour, at Golden Square.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know. Some store?” Ona shrugged. “She said take the eight train, and it’ll drop us right there.”

I went upstairs and showered, and by the time I was done, Lock and Ona were waiting. We made our way to the station and the train whisked us away, past the library and Lazrad Corp, to a great glass-fronted palace. We flew through its gates and the train came to a stop, depositing us on a platform curtained off by a waterfall. Emerging from the spray, we found ourselves in an immense indoor shopping district, floor after floor of restaurants and boutiques, gyms, salons, and cinemas—anything you could want, all under one roof.

“This is Golden Square?” I peeled my jaw off the floor. “I don’t get it. They have all of downtown. Why would they—”

“Hi-ho! Over here.”

I spotted Elli under an oak tree growing incongruously through the floor, its branches hung with billboards. She beckoned us over, all smiles.

“I thought we’d start with your outfits, then move on to manicures. You’ll need those touched up closer to the time, but it’ll be fun trying some colors, and then we can—”

“Manicures?” Lock’s horrified whisper tickled my ear. “I’ve seen how they do those, all those tiny drills and sanders.” He tucked his hands behind his back.

“What’s the matter? Scared?”

“Yeah. Hold me?”

I stifled a snort. Elli fixed me with a stern look.

“Did I say something amusing?”

I smirked. “Lock’s scared of nail scissors.” His elbow shot out, jabbing me in the ribs.

“Traitor,” he hissed. Elli frowned. I elbowed Lock harder, and we jostled back and forth till we were both holding our sides.

“All right. Got that out of your systems?” Elli spun around smartly, showing us her back. “Follow me.”

We pattered after her like ducklings, up a sleek moving staircase to a brightly-lit showroom. Mannequins danced on pedestals, skirts starched and suspended in improbable forms. One wall was lined with shoes, another with purses. I saw hats and hairpins, cases sparkling with jewels.

“Your ball attire’s paid for, so don’t worry about the price tags.” Elli moved between the racks, selecting items seemingly at random. “I’ll pick a few looks for each of you, but feel free to browse.”

I turned to Lock. He was wiping his hands on his pants, palms whooshing on the denim.

“What are you doing?”

“Wiping my hands. Feels like…I don’t know. Like I’ve brought the Dirt with me, and I’m gonna get it all over everything.”

“Myla! How about this one?” Ona held up a red dress, smooth down the front, ruffled down one side. She pulled up the skirt to show off the petticoats, layer after layer of them, like a carnation.

“Definitely your color,” I said.

“No, for you.” She held it up to my body and turned me to face the mirror. “Don’t you love how it brings out your eyes?”

I scanned my reflection, trying to see what she saw. My eyes just looked normal to me, flat and Dirt-brown. The dress was too stiff, shiny instead of soft, and narrow across the hips.

“I’m not sure I could sit in that.”

“You won’t be sitting. You’ll be dancing.” Ona spun around, the dress trailing behind her. “You’ll be gorgeous. You’ve got to try it on.”

“Okay. Give it here.” I reached for the dress, more for Ona’s sake than mine. She didn’t let go of it, and I frowned. “Ona?”

“Do you think—”

“What?”

Ona’s gaze had gone distant. I tried to catch her eye. She shook her head slowly, still clutching the dress.

“If Mom and Dad could see us now, do you think they’d be happy for us? Do you think they’d want... Am I doing this right?”

“Doing it right?” I pulled her out of the floodlights, toward the fitting rooms. “I thought this was what you wanted? Your big night?”

“It is, but—” She sank down on a bench, letting the dress crumple between her thighs. “I’ve been trying so hard, doing everything to fit in. And it’s working—I have friends already, and a golf membership, and a library card, but... But then I come home, and I realize I’ve barely seen you in days. I can’t remember Mom’s last words to me, or the taste of Dad’s cooking. I feel like... Like if I just knew they’d want this for me, it would…I would…I—I miss them so much.”

“Oh, Ona.” I sat down next to her and pulled her close. I had no idea what Mom and Dad would think, seeing their little girl in makeup, out partying all