My Stepmom Refused to Give Me Money for a Prom Dress – My Brother Sewed One from Our Late Mom’s Jeans Collection, and What Happened Next Made Her Jaw Drop
Noah’s face went red. “I made it.”
She looked delighted that I had spoken back.
Carla turned to him. “You made it?”
He lifted his chin. “Yeah.”
She smiled the way people do when they want to hurt you slowly. “That explains a lot.”
I took one step forward. “Enough.”
She looked delighted that I had spoken back. “Oh, this should be fun. You’re going to show up to prom in a dress made out of old jeans like some kind of charity project, and you think people are going to clap?”
Noah helped zip the back. His hands were shaking.
I said, very quietly, “I’d rather wear something made with love than something bought by stealing from kids.”
The hallway went dead silent.
Her eyes changed.
Then she said, “Get out of my sight before I really say what I think.”
I wore the dress anyway.
Noah helped zip the back. His hands were shaking.
She said she wanted to “see the disaster in person.”
I said, “Hey.”
“What?”
“If one person laughs, I am haunting them.”
That made him smile. “Good.”
She said she wanted to “see the disaster in person.” I overheard her on the phone telling someone, “You have to come early. I need witnesses for this.”
The weird thing was, people didn’t laugh.
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