Malcolm called her a little after seven. A frown furrowed Sorcha's brow. He was supposed to meet his date — a girl named Leslie — for dinner before heading over to the Valentine's Mixer being held by one of the fraternities. That he was already calling her wasn't a good sign.
"What happened?" she asked in lieu of a greeting. "It's only ten minutes after seven. Did you forget your wallet?"
Of course, he hadn't. Malcolm was anal retentive about his routines. After showering and shaving came dressing — a navy blue suit and stripped tie, no less — before he grabbed his wallet.
"She isn't coming."
"Not coming?" Sorcha's eyebrows winged up. "How do you know she's not coming? Maybe she's just running a bit late."
"She had the maitre'd deliver a note with the word loser written on it." Malcolm sounded so humiliated. So broken and tired. "She's sitting at another table with a large group of people from school and they're all laughing."
It tore at her heart to think of him sitting there in that restaurant and having a pack of sick animals laugh at him.
"She's there, is she?" Sorcha said with barely suppressed fury. "Well, that's just perfect."
"Perfect?" His confusion rippled through the phone. "How's that perfect?"
"You'll see."
"Sorch..."
"Gimme twenty minutes to get ready, Mal."
"I don't want you to do anything," he said, voice cracking. "It'll just make everything worse than it already is."
"Just trust me." She got up and headed towards Mandy's room. She'd need her help if she was going to pull this off in the time she had. "You'll like what I've got planned."
"Sorch—"
"Twenty minutes, Mal." She met Mandy's inquisitive gaze as she walked in. "I just need to change into something a little more appropriate."
She hung up before he could issue any further protest.
"Stood him up?" Sorcha nodded, too furious to form words. Not that she needed to say more. Mandy understood and was already moving to her closet. "Black strapless?"
"I was thinking your red backless."
Mandy looked over her shoulder at her, amusement in the depths of her hazel eyes. "Fire engine read to knock 'em dead..." A smirk tilted her lips. "Or are you trying to warm Mal up some?"
Heat crept up Sorcha's throat to warm her cheeks.
"Both?"
"About time," Mandy said as she turned back to the closet. "But I'd go with my red peasant instead of the backless if I was you."
"Why?"
"Because he stares at your legs."
Sorcha blinked. "He does?"
"Mhm." Mandy handed her the dress. "And make sure to spritz some of your perfume in your hair."
"Lavender and jasmine comforts him when he's agitated or upset."
"He likes to smell your hair after you shower." Mandy dug into her closet for a pair of shoes. "I caught him doing it at Christmas."
Sorcha stood there in stunned disbelief. Why it surprised her, she didn't know. It was totally a Malcolm thing.
"Really?" She managed once she was capable of speaking. "He smells my hair?"
"He does." Mandy indicated the dress. "Now, hurry up and get dressed. I'll do your hair and makeup."
Twenty-five minutes later, Sorcha strolled into Chez Louis. She spotted Malcolm instantly. He was doing his best to avoid being seen by hunching his shoulders and ducking his head. Raucous laughter on her left drew her attention. There you are, she thought, eyes narrowing into thin slits. You wanna play games, oh, we'll play.
Head held high, shoulders back, Sorcha sauntered towards where Malcolm sat staring into his water glass as if it held some answer for why he had been made into the punchline of a mean girl's joke.
"Sorry I'm late." She spoke just loud enough so the group sitting a few tables over could hear her. "Class didn't let out on time and I still needed to go home and change."
Malcolm's head snapped up. The relief that poured across his face quickly faded into something Sorcha likened to stunned amazement. She couldn't deny it gave a nice little boost to her ego to see him so dazed.
"Sorch..." he said as he pushed to his feet. "You look..." His eyes met hers. Brimmed with a mixture of stupefaction and appreciation. "You look amazing."
Sorcha let a self-satisfied smile curve her lips. "I'm glad you think so." She leaned in and placed a soft kiss to his lips. "And thank you."
"You didn't have to come in, though. I'd have met you outside if you text me."
"Oh, yes, I did." She offered her hand to him. "This wouldn't be half as much fun as it's gonna be if I stayed outside."
"Sorch—"
"She deserves this."
"No, it's not her fault. It's mine." His hand trembled in hers. "I shouldn't have said yes when she asked me to go to the Mixer."
"She shouldn't have asked you." She took his other hand in hers. "She played a very mean trick on you." And was going to pay for it. "So, way I see it? She's got this coming."
Malcolm gave in, too tired and heartsick to continue arguing. Sorcha squeezed his fingers reassuringly before turning to walk towards the exit. Of course, she took the scenic route, and made sure to pause at the table where the queen of the mean girls presided over her court.
"Leslie, I hope you weren't too upset about Malcolm choosing to break your date tonight?"
A frown formed between the blonde's eyes.
"What are you talking about?"
"He didn't get a chance to tell you?" Sorcha blinked her eyes wide. "Oh, well, I figured that was why you were over here with your friends..."
"No." Leslie's tone was biting. "He didn't tell me."
"Well, no matter." Sorcha waved a hand airily. "Worked out for all involved. Malcolm is going with me to the classic movie marathon downtown and Tad here can show off his daddy's new Porsche to you."
Suspicion darkened Leslie's face. She turned towards the man trying to melt into the seat beside her.
"How does she know your father got a new Porsche?"
"Oh, didn't Tad tell you?" Sorcha kept her tone light and airy. "He invited me to the Mixer before asking you. Said he'd pick me up in his father's new Porsche and show me a real good time."
"Oh, he did, did he?"
"Les, I—" he began but Sorcha cut him off before he could offer up a spectacular lie.
"Hey." She pointed out the window. "Isn't that your daddy's Porsche on the back of that tow truck?"
Heads spun around so fast Sorcha swore they'd all end up with whiplash. "Guess he didn't want you borrowing his new car to impress some pampered little princess."
Satisfied then her work was done, Sorcha led a stunned Malcolm from the restaurant.
