Page 36 of A Fighting Chance

I look down out the window and catch sight of Gentry walking away from the house. He turns back over his shoulder and looks up at me, as if somehow knowing I was looking down at that moment. He smiles and winks at me. I wave at him and then turn back to my shower. I can’t concentrate on anything if I’m looking at him for any length of time.

When I get back to my room, I dress in jeans and a T-shirt to finish helping Harper. Then I examine all my other clothes, trying to figure out what I should wear for my date. I hold up my black maxi dress. It’s an off-the-shoulder dress and dips down to expose a bit of cleavage. More importantly, it’s versatile. I can dress it up or down, and because I don’t know where or what the date is, it’s the perfect choice. But best of all—and I can’t stress this enough—it has pockets. Every woman’s best friend is a nice versatile dress with pockets. Yes, this will absolutely work. I’ll pair it with some sandals, subtle jewelry, and be done. He didn’t give me any indication about what the date will consist of, so this will have to do.

I hang the dress back up and refocus my attention on the here and now. I finish getting ready and head downstairs. I’m not sure how I’ll keep myself focused, but I have to give it a solid effort. Or so I tell myself.

Harper is waiting for me in the kitchen with a travel mug of coffee. She hands it to me as I approach.

“Oh, bless you, child,” I say, taking it into my hands with a feverish need.

“What are you smiling about?” she asks.

I look at her, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Girl, you came in here with a smile big enough to see from the other side of the farm.”

“I did?” I ask. I hadn’t felt it or noticed.

“Oh yeah.” She nods slowly at me.

“You’re crazy,” I say, rolling my eyes at her as I attempt to suppress another smile.

Her eyebrows raise on her forehead. “Something happened, didn’t it?” she accuses, pointing her finger at me.

My mouth drops open and I try to wave her off.

“It did!” she says.

“Okay, fine, fine! Shush, please. Yes, okay?” I say on an exhale.

“Tell me,” she demands. “Tell me now.”

“I’m not telling you! We aren’t in middle school,” I say.

She puts her hands on her hips and stands straight, raising her chin at me, demanding more of an explanation without words.

I press my lips together and sigh. “Me and Gentry, okay?”

“You and Gentrywhat?” she questions. “You had sex?”

I nod my head up and down.

The excitement on her face and exuding from her is palpable.

“You know what, it shouldn’t have happened, okay? It shouldn’t have,” I say, reasoning out loud, mostly to myself.

“Why not?” she asks.

“For one, it’s been like three days since I met him,” I remind her.

“So?” she says, like that’s all the explaining she needs to do.

“So?So, I shouldn’t be sleeping with strangers and people I barely know after three days,” I say.

“First of all, you’re a grown woman. Sleep with who you want, when you want,” she says, like it’s the simplest concept.

But, she has a point. Men do it, so why not women, too?

“Okay, maybe you’re right.”

---