Nocticadia: A Dark Academia Gothic Romance
Nocticadia: Chapter 36

Billie Holiday droned on in the background of my dorm room, as I jotted notes from my expository writing class. I had a meeting with my preceptor to discuss one of the topics that would make up a shit ton of essays I’d be expected to write before the big final at the end of the semester. I’d selected The Evolution of Biomedicine, thinking it’d be relevant to my degree, but I hadn’t preempted that the class would be boring as hell and taught by a man who didn’t know the meaning of inflection.

The Very Thought of You came on, and I paused, the song taking me back to when I was younger and my mother would play an entire record of Billie Holiday while she cooked. With a glass of wine in her hands, she’d dance around the kitchen, making an absolute mess that my sister and I would have to clean up.

It’d made me happy to see her so happy, though. Even at the prospect of having to scrub spaghetti sauce off the cupboards, I’d loved when she cooked.

Beside me sat a steaming mug of the black rock tea I’d gotten from the apothecary in town. I’d added the honey gums to it, which sweetened the bitter flavor, making it a delicious complement to my studies.

A knock at the door interrupted my thoughts, and frowning, I shuffled across the room and swung the door open. Missy Finch stood in the hallway holding a long garment bag.

Damn it. I’d hoped that maybe she’d forget me. Or maybe the dress would accidentally fall into a shredder.

“It’s time!” she squealed enthusiastically, and she pushed past me, into my room. “Let’s try it on!”

“Oh, this is actually a really bad time for me. I’m trying to write–”

“It’s imperative that I make sure it fits. I’m not dealing with the gate tyrant again. We’re doing this now.”

Shoulders slumped in defeat, I watched her unzip the garment bag, and when she pulled the dress from inside, the air wheezed out of me. The Dress was a long, deep burgundy satin skirt with delicate black tulle. Its off-the-shoulder bodice, adorned with black and burgundy star flowers and accented with gleaming diamonds, had my jaw cocked open.

“I thought the burgundy would complement your hair. Come, come. Let’s get undressed.” That snapped me out of my trance.

“Wait, what? Here? I’ll go into the bathroom and change.”

Her face pinched to a frown. “Drag the train across a bathroom floor? I think not.” With that, she draped the dress over my desk chair and turned around, crossing her arms with a huff. “Ridiculous. Had we been in a proper boutique …” She shook her head and huffed again. “Never mind.”

Eyes on her, I quickly slid out of the ratty sweats I’d worn, which would undoubtedly had her nose turning up, had she not been so excited about that damned dress. With nervous hands, I slid my legs into the unlatched dress and carefully pushed my arms through the sheer sleeves that also held the gorgeous starflower detail. Once dressed, I turned to face her, catching my reflection in the mirror.

On a gasp, I stared at myself.

Me, but so … elegant. A far cry from the poor Covington girl who wore her mother’s hand-me-downs.

“It’s lovely, isn’t it?” Missy’s voice, so close, snapped me out of my staring. “Fits like a glove,” she said, fidgeting with the buttons at my back. From the foot of the garment bag, she grabbed a black leather case, which she opened. Inside, lay a beautiful diamond starflower choker, with diamond leaves between each flower, and a set of diamond earrings to match. She removed my vial necklace, dropping it gently into my palm, and fastened the choker in its place. So beautiful and delicate against my skin tone.

“Perfect,” Missy added.

I couldn’t stop staring. The dress held such a darkly alluring appeal that, when paired with the diamonds, made it almost seductive in itself. Way too much for a friendly date with Spencer. Way too much. “I can’t wear this.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s gorgeous. Absolutely stunning. But Spencer is going to get the wrong idea.”

She loosed what sounded like a cross between a laugh and a scoff. “That is the tragedy of women, isn’t it? We deny ourselves beauty for the sake of misleading men.”

Ugh. When she put it that way, it did sound ridiculous. Still, I didn’t want to draw attention. From anyone. “I get that, but I feel like an oyster without a pearl.” Missy’s lips curved to a smile, and she brushed a strand of hair behind my ear. “And what of the other oysters once their pearls are plucked?”

I’d have hated getting into an argument with her, because the woman probably had some plucky comebacks, judging by the last two she’d thrown at me.

“I can’t get over how much you look like her. Vanessa, the woman I–”

“I know who she is. Were you friends?”

“Hardly. She was my competition in everything. Sports, academics, men. Things that don’t really matter anymore.” She twisted around and cracked open my Caboodle, which held small things like the mascara I almost never wore, chapstick, some hair ties, and a lipstick the same shade that my mother would never leave the house without wearing.

Missy popped its cap and twisted it up, revealing a deep berry color, and with a glint of intrigue, she plastered it onto my lips.

“She was my mother,” I finally confessed before rubbing my lips together. “Do you know if she has any family on the island?”

I only wore lipstick on rare occasions, but as I stared at myself in the mirror, I couldn’t help but appreciate how perfectly it matched and added a much needed pop of color to my face.

Lips pressed to a hard line, she shook her head. “Her mother passed about four years ago. Her father about a year before that. Good honest people. Fashion-challenged, of course. But good people.”

“That was all the family she had?”

“As far as I know. The Corbins were a pretty tightly-knit family. I personally found it a little unbelievable that Vanessa would up and leave. Just … completely out of character.”

“Did you know a June Galloway?”

She snorted and rolled her eyes. “Everyone knew June. A bit strange, that one. She hung out with the burnouts, mostly.”

“Was she friends with my mother?”

“Not that I know of. Your mother was a bit more goody-two-shoes than June.”

“Do you know if either of them attended Dracadia?”

She made a face like I’d said something outrageous and let out a snooty chuckle. “No. I don’t think so. The school was a little out of budget for their families. Particularly June’s. Only the elite and wealthy attend this school. And … you.”

“Thanks,” I said in a flat tone.

“It wasn’t an insult.” She circled me, fussing with the dress. “I love money, but wealth is exhausting. The look on your face when you first saw yourself in this dress is something I rarely see. I found it … gratifying.”

“I do love the dress.”

“Good.” Brow winged up, she sauntered in front of me. “Wear it. Feel beautiful. And for god’s sake, Lilia, enjoy yourself.”