Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55667 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55667 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
“Are we too open with each other?” I run my hands over my hips. I’m wearing black dress pants and a royal blue blouse.
She reappears with a stack of tops. “That depends on who you ask. I also think the more important question is whether it would be better for me to be completely in the dark about how the female body works. Half the girls in my classes are relying on the internet for their information. Which is not the most reliable source. You’re my only parent. I’m your only daughter. We’re tight. You have rules and I follow most of them most of the time. I’m not an angry teenager who wears all black and acts like spending time with you is akin to going to a funeral. We have fun together. I think it’s cool that I get to help you pick out a date appropriate outfit.”
“It’s just coffee, and I’m still undecided whether I’m going.”
“I still can’t believe he didn’t get your number or give you his.” She holds out an embellished top better suited for a night out on the town. “Pair this with a blazer and you’re good to go.”
If there’s one thing Violet is good at, apart from math and spontaneously tripping over air—she gets those two from me—it’s putting together outfits.
“And if you were undecided, you wouldn’t be putting in this kind of effort.”
“Maybe he won’t show.” I try on the blouse and pull the black blazer over it. She’s right. It looks great. But the cleavage is a little much. I add a nude tank with lace trim so the girls aren’t the central focus.
“He’ll show. He’d be a fool not to.” She flops back down on my bed. “This time you need to get a last name, his phone number, and a link to one of his social media accounts. That way we can do some research before date two, if you decide you want to see him again.”
“Got it, get his last name, phone number and a link to social media.”
“Don’t get into a car with him.”
“We’re meeting at a café across from my work.”
“Right. Text me when you’re back at work, though, okay?”
“I don’t have to go, Violet. I can just not show up.”
“You need to go. He didn’t have to stop you, and he did. He wanted an excuse to talk to you. This is a perfectly safe first date and you deserve more romance in your life than watching the Hallmark channel and Fifty First Dates.”
“I love that movie.”
“I know. Now let’s go or I’ll be late for first period and then I’ll have to walk past John Kirkwood’s desk to get to mine and I would prefer if that didn’t happen today or any other day.”
At eleven, I make a trip to the bathroom and freshen up my lipstick. I anxiety pee twice, grab my purse and head across the street to the café. Before I step inside, I text Violet to let her know that I’m going in.
She wishes me luck. And tells me to sneak her a pic, so she knows what he looks like. My palms are sweaty and I’m ridiculously nervous.
It’s been a while since I’ve ventured into the land of dating, and I’m out of practice. The café is busy, but I don’t see Sidney anywhere. I check my phone. It’s only eleven twenty-two. He said eleven thirty. I order my usual latte and barely resist the cheese croissant. Instead, I get a lavender and lemon scone, which is equally delicious but won’t wreak havoc on my intestines.
I sip my latte and try not to obsessively watch the door, but at eleven-thirty-five I get antsy.
Violet messages to ask how it’s going.
I hold off on replying in hopes he’s running late, but at eleven-forty-one I ask for a to-go bag for my uneaten lavender-lemon scone. The phone rings and Larissa grabs it as she passes me a small bag. “Coffee Emporium, Larissa speaking. How may I help you?”
“Thanks.” I turn to leave, the disappointment heavier than I expected.
“Uh yeah, she’s right here.” Larissa calls out, “Hey Skye, hold on. There’s a guy on the phone for you?” Her eyebrow and voice rise with her questioning tone.
I take the phone, my eyebrow arched in return. “Hello?”
“Skye, hey, hi, it’s Sidney. I’m so sorry. I witnessed an accident and I’m stuck at the scene.”
“Are you okay?” I fiddle with my necklace, my stomach flipping with his anxious tone.
“Yeah. Fine. Rattled, but fine. It seems to be mostly a fender bender. I didn’t want you to think I was a no-show. Can I give you my number? Maybe we can try again next week? Or sooner, depending on how you feel about second chances?”
“Um—”
“I promise I’m not in the habit of standing people up. I’d rather be there with you than here.”