Page 91 of Race to Me

“Actually, Foster’s taking me on a date.”

A cheesy, too-wide grin takes over her face when she says, “Oh, fun! Where are you going?”

I shrug, acting nonchalant. But inside, I’m so nervous. “He won’t tell me. He just said to wear something nice.”

“Hm, let’s get you ready for your date then!”

∞∞∞

“Hair, perfect. Makeup, flawless.” Kate sings. “Now, for something to wear.”

I thumb through my clothes. “I don’t have anything fancy,” A worried croak escapes me. I want tonight to go perfectly.

“I do!” Kate says quickly, running over to her dresser. “This! This will be perfect.”

She holds the floor-length gown against me, a deep crimson shade that matches her hair. When I slip into the silky material, I notice a seductive slit that slices up the left side of the dress.

“Okay, Miss Legs.” Kate chuckles, clapping at my transformation.

I run my hand along the glossy fabric. “You don’t think it’s too much?” I ask, but as I look at myself in the mirror, I don’t feel like too much. I feel beautiful.

“Psh,” She waves me off, picking out a sultry shade of red from her lipstick drawer. “You look perfect.”

I swipe the romantic hue across my lips, loving the way it looks with my makeup. A swoosh of darkness surrounds my eyes, a subtle smoky look.

A knock sounds on the door, and I rush to open it. Foster looks ridiculously handsome with his hair slicked back. He’s wearing dark jeans and a crisp white shirt with a fitted black blazer.

“Wow.” I mouth, then bite my lip, taking him in.

His fingertips touch my chin, forcing me to look into his eyes. “Wow what? Have you seen yourself?” Foster’s words make me blush. “Are you ready? I can’t wait to show you off.” He smirks, taking my hand in his to send me into a movie-like twirl in the tiny dorm.

“I’m ready,” I say with a grin.

For the first time, he looks past me. “The room looks great, babe.”

“Have her back by eleven, Mister!” Kate jokes.

Foster winks at her. “I’ll have her in the backseat of the car at eleven.”

“And that’s our cue,” I add with a laugh, bowing as I push Foster out the door. I swat his arm playfully while we head down the hall. “Where are we going?”

“I made reservations at The Canary Grille,” he replies, taking my hand when we head towards the parking lot.

I nearly stop dead in my tracks. “Foster, it’s like fifty dollars per plate. I don’t have any money.”

“I didn’t ask if you had money. I asked if you wanted to go on a date.”

“Okay,” I smile, not wanting him to think I’m not appreciative. “I just feel bad because I’m broke.”

We stop in front of a blue Corolla, and he walks me to the driver’s side, leaning me against the door to steal a kiss. “Foster!” I look around. “This isn’t your car.”

He kisses my neck. “I know. It’s yours.” A crooked grin lays on his face as he hands me a set of keys. “You’re driving us to dinner.”

“Wha—” I nearly pass out. “I can’t. This … this is too much.” Internally, I’m screaming out of excitement, but guilt eats at me. “I told you not to buy me a car, Foster.”

“I didn’t.”

I tilt my head, wondering what extravagant excuse he has. “I don’t understand.”

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