Page 41 of The Dollhouse

Of course, it was around three in the afternoon when I realized Zoey never told me a time, and since I didn’t have her number, I decided to push aside my nerves and walk to her apartment to ask. It was an abnormally long walk, mostly because I took the tiniest baby steps I could in the hallway. When I arrived before her door, I breathed in, filling my lungs and shaking out my hands before knocking.

“It’s open,” Zoey’s voice came from inside.

I hesitantly poked my head in. Her voice had sounded distant, and since these were tiny studio apartments, I figured she was in the bathroom. Hmm. Maybe I should come back later? “Uh” was all that came out of my mouth.

Wow. Way to go, Lake. Way to sound like a smooth talker.

Why the heck was Zoey even going out with me? She could land anybody. I was just an awkward, sometimes clumsy—

All thoughts vanished, flitting from my mind when Zoey emerged from the bathroom, wearing a very tight and insanely low-cut shirt that showed off her cleavage like no one’s business. Couple that with the short shorts she wore, and I saw a whole lot of her I probably shouldn’t. Or, at least, parts of her I shouldn’t exactly stare at like a lecher.

I averted my eyes, spinning around like I’d just walked in on her naked or something. Don’t get me wrong—if she was naked, I’d have a whole different flurry of thoughts racing through my head right now—but she wasn’t.

And I was acting like an idiot.

Zoey laughed. “You can look at me, Lake. It isn’t like this is our wedding and you’re seeing me in the wedding dress before the ceremony.”

Right. Because that would be a whole lot of bad luck. This was just me being stupid.

I was measured in turning around, meeting her eyes. Their light blue hue was done up in eyeliner with perfectly-blended shadow, making their color pop even more. Her lips were painted red, her eyelashes looking extra long and thick. Her pink hair was wavy; not its usual straight.

“You look…” A lump formed in my throat, and for whatever reason, I could not finish the sentence: beautiful.

Because she did. She looked so beautiful it hurt. Like, what the hell was I doing, thinking I was good enough to go on a date with her, let alone multiple possible dates in the future? I must be on crack or something to think I could hold a torch against her.

“I’m going to take your silence as a compliment,” she paused, adding, “I think.” The only thing she didn’t have on was shoes, but she remedied that soon enough, sliding on bright pink sneakers that matched her hair. I’d seen her wear those same shoes countless of times now.

“Yes,” I sputtered out, wishing I could be not me for once, someone who knew exactly what to say and when to say it. “I was just coming over here to ask when you want me ready by. I mean, I’m ready now, but if you’d rather we wait, that’s fine, too.” I flicked my thumb over my shoulder. “I could go back to my place and wait…”

That probably wasn’t something good to say. The image of me sitting on my small couch and waiting for her made me look lame in her eyes, I bet.

Zoey tilted her head, studying me. She took a step closer to me, a smile growing on her face. “We can go whenever you want, Lake.” She practically purred out my name, and I did my best not to let the timbre of her voice affect me.

It was hard, damn near impossible. Just being around her drove me crazy, let alone being around her when she was all dressed up for me, saying my name like it was the most precious word to ever touch that tongue.

I felt heat touch my cheeks, and I hoped I wasn’t blushing. How embarrassing would that be? At this rate, Zoey probably thought I’d never gone on a date before, with the way I was acting. “When do you want to go?” Thank God, I didn’t trip over those words.

She must’ve sensed we could go round and round with this and never leave her apartment tonight, for she took charge and said, “We can go now.” She grabbed the keys resting on the kitchen counter, tossing me a smirk. “I still don’t have a car, by the way, so I’m afraid we’ll have to take yours.”

“You can ride me anytime.” The words were out of my mouth before my brain could register that they weren’t quite right, and when I realized what I said, I wanted to crawl under a rock and hide for a year or two. “I mean, my car. You can—”

Zoey giggled, biting her bottom lip as she led me to the door to the main hallway. “I’ll keep that in mind, Lake.”

Oh, dear God. I really hoped I stopped saying stupid things sooner rather than later. At this rate, I’d dig myself in a hole even I couldn’t get out of.

As she locked her apartment, I said, “Let me grab my keys.” I hurried to get my car keys and my apartment keys, locking my own door before meeting her in front of the elevator. I tried my best not to constantly check her out, but it was difficult. So very difficult, because she was, again, the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen.

I was not exaggerating there. Like, as much of a wussy thing it was to admit, I only had eyes for her.

I really hoped I didn’t screw this date up.

Turned out, Zoey had our entire night planned. A simple, quiet night that involved going to dinner, getting ice cream from somewhere else as a desert, and ending it with a movie. A horror movie, which was so not my thing, but I nodded and smiled anyway, because I didn’t care what the hell I saw, as long as I sat beside her.

During dinner, I found she had a healthy appetite. She could shovel in food like no one else’s business; just because she was on a date with me didn’t mean she’d be all quiet and shy, apparently. Not that I didn’t want her to feel comfortable with me. I did. I totally did. I just wasn’t expecting her to wolf down fifteen chicken wings that were slathered in hot sauce while at the same time still looking just as gorgeous as ever.

She asked me about myself, so much during dinner that I hardly had the chance to ask her any questions about her life. She wanted to know the usual first date questions, the same thing everyone always did: what are you majoring in? What do you want to do after graduation? Do you have your life figured out already?

Everyone always expected kids right out of high school to know what they wanted to do with the rest of their lives. I was twenty years old, out of high school for two years now, and I still had no idea. I was majoring in computer science, but that didn’t really mean anything. It wasn’t like I had a passion for computers and stuff; plus, I still had to take all of the generic courses everyone else had to, too.

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