London Escape Read Free

off with a wave of her hand. “What can I do for you?”
    Alexa’s screen name is clearly tongue-in-cheek. Being the daughter of a fashion boutique owner meant that she was anything but a fashion victim. In fact, that probably should have been my screen name, since I am particularly challenged in that area. Not that I care.
    “Can I go raid your closet for a dress?” I ask hopefully.
    She frowns and I hold my breath expectantly. Alexa treats her clothes like most people would their children or pets.
    “I suppose,” she concedes eventually. “But under one condition.” She holds up a finger and I can clearly see her nails are painted fluorescent orange. “You must promise to accessorize properly.”
    I roll my eyes for what feels like the millionth time today. I thought she was going to say avoid cranberry juice and the chocolate fountain, though those are valid points too.
    “Sure, sure,” I agree hastily, preparing to sign off before she came up with more stipulations like I must curl my hair or wear fake eyelashes made from the fur of a fox’s butt.
    “So, where’s the party?” she asks before I can close the program.
    Absently my eyes drift down to my contacts list. The screen name ‘IndyJones’ catches my eye, but it’s grayed out, indicating Jason’s not online. I can’t help but laugh a little to myself over his chosen screen name, an homage to his favorite movie character, Indiana Jones. He always was such a dork.
    Again my thoughts are driven back to his goodbye and the smile fades from my face.
    “So?” Alexa is still there, waiting for my response.
    “It’s at the Barons’,” I spit out finally.
    “Oh, the ex, huh?” she drawls.
    “He won’t be there.” I glance at the clock. “Look, I’ve got to go if I’m going to make it to your dad’s and back in time.”
    “Alright, just remember what I said!”
    “Yeah, yeah,” I mumble noncommittally.
    She spears me with one last look through her neon glasses and I know she knows I will disobey her direct orders. Accessorizing to me means wearing shoes and maybe a matching rubber band in my hair.
     
    Alexa’s dad is an artist who works out of his house just across town. I’m glad for the distraction of driving, since I’ve spent far too much of my day already thinking about things I’d rather not.
    Anthony de la Vega answers the front door, sketchpad and pencil in one hand and chatting in Spanish on his Bluetooth. I point upstairs to Alexa’s room and he nods with a smile. Alexa must have called him and given him a heads up, either that or he’s so used to me being around he doesn’t even question my presence there.
    It takes me all of five minutes to decide that most of Alexa’s wardrobe won’t work for me. Pushing aside a dress completely covered in black feathers, I consider giving up. I could always just swing by a little boutique and pick up something plain and simple if it came down to it. Anything is better than looking like a pack of ravens just attacked you. Through the mass of black dresses I see a sudden splash of color and feel a surge of hope.
    I unearth the bright green dress from its boring counterparts and know immediately that it’s exactly what I’m looking for. It’s a simple, long dress that’s every shade of green imaginable. Since Alexa is shorter than me, I know I’ll have to wear the dress with flats, which is fine with me, since I can’t walk in heels anyway. I grin to myself, knowing that I have the perfect pair at home. I’ll probably get myself banned from Alexa’s closet forever, but that’s fine by me. I think I’ve taken the one redeemable piece in there.
     
    I make it home with just enough time to get dressed for the party. One look in the mirror tells me my hair is probably a lost cause. Flame red, long and pin-straight, today’s rain and humidity hasn’t been kind to it as it hangs limply around my shoulders. But I manage to brush it out and braid it simply down my back. I apply a