Page 15 of Something that Could Last

I chew on the corner of my lip, deciding how to respond. If I say yes, will he think I'm not interested in anything more than friendship? If I say no, will he think I'm a total bitch? Honestly, I want Tiff there. I will be so much more relaxed if she is with me.

“Sure. It'll be fun.” I keep my response light and optimistic. He releases a quiet sigh of relief as if he’s been holding his breath, awaiting my response.“Okay, then. I guess we'll pick you guys up around six-thirty.” With that, we say our goodbyes and hang up.

“Well?” Tiff asks.

“You,” I say pointing to her, “are coming with.”

Tiff squeals with delight. “NowIhave to find something to wear.” She starts rummaging through her clothes. There are dresses on the bed, the dresser, the floor, and a few still hanging in the closet. She tries a few on. “Meh,” she grimaces at the first one, tossing it aside. I guess that's a no. She doesn't even put on the next two she grabs, just holds them up to her body and checks her reflection. “No. And no,” she groans, tossing them back onto the bed one by one. Two more dresses she tries on and discards just the same.

Finally, she picks up the navy blue one I tried on earlier and pulls it over her hips. I zip her up and she faces me. “How do I look?” she asks.

“Fabulous!” I tell her, and it's the truth. The navy hue brings out her deep blue eyes and complements her blonde hair. She turns and checks herself out in the mirror, admiring her gorgeous reflection.

“You're right. Idolook pretty amazing.”Well, isn't she modest?

She regards herself in the mirror a few minutes longer, turning and playing with different hairstyles. “Ooh, now we have to find shoes.” She runs back into her walk-in closet, rummaging through her sizeable shoe collection. After a minute or two I hear, “Ah-ha!” and she bursts out of the closet excitedly, a pair of heels in each hand. She hands me a pair of black, peep-toe pumps with red soles. Louboutin knockoffs, I'm sure. “Try 'em on,” she orders as she slides her own white pumps onto her feet.

She does this effortlessly, maintaining her balance like a flamingo. I have to sit on the edge of the bed to put mine on. It's rare that I get to wear heels. I only have a few pairs, and none of them are this nice. I once had a pair of Dolce & Gabbana boots Sydney Carlisle gave me. They were hand-me-downs and a half size too big, but I wore the hell out of ‘em all the same. I envy Tiff's shoe collection. She has dozens of shoes in a myriad of colors and styles. Then again, she's not working her way through college and can spend her money on whatever she wants. Luckily for me, we wear the same size and she’s willing to let me borrow them.

“Look at you,” she praises when I stand up. “You look incredible!”

“Thanks! You look pretty damn good yourself.”

She winks at me and turns back to the full-length cheval mirror, admiring her profile in the fitted navy dress. The white pumps are a perfect addition to her ensemble.

Tiff and I are attempting to find the perfect jewelry to complement our outfits when my phone rings once again. It’s my grandmother's ringtone, so I hurry to pick it up.

“Hi, enisi,” I answer, always using the Cherokee word for “grandmother” to address her. She doesn’t talk much about her family or the time before she met my grandfather, but the Cherokee language is something she still cherishes from her childhood.

“Abigail, where are you? You haven't been home since yesterday morning.” Her worried voice pulls at my heartstrings.

“I'm at Tiff's. I'll be home soon.”

“Okay, sweetie. I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

“Was that your grandma?” Tiff asks when I hang up.

“Yeah, I think she misses me. I better get home.”

“Please tell me you called her this morning to let her know where you were since you didn't go home last night.”

“Of course. I called her first thing when I got up. She would've had the whole town out looking for me if I hadn't.” My grandmother is fiercely protective of my brother and me. She tries to let me have my independence, but out of respect, I always try to let her know where I am. She’s been so good to me, it’s the least I can do. I think she feels responsible for my mother's actions and has been trying to make up for her shortcomings since Mom left.

“So, are you coming straight here from work tomorrow to get ready for our big date with the boys?” Tiff asks, unbuttoning my dress so I can hang it back up.

“I probably should, since I'll only have a little over an hour to get ready. I'll definitely need a shower. And probably some help with my hair,” I add hopefully. She seems to be the only one who can do anything with this mane.

“Of course. Don't forget your makeup bag. And wear sexy underwear,” she tells me with a wink.

I just laugh at her. “Goodbye, Tiff.” I head towards home with a smile on my face and excitement blooming in my chest.

Jacob

I STILL CAN'Tbelieve that little fucker weaseled his way into my date with Abby. All I wanted was a chance to spend some time alone with her and get to know her, but Luke had to butt his nose into my business and sabotage my plans. I would’ve just told him to fuck off if he hadn’t already asked Tiffany to go. I don’t want to be the asshole that lets her down after she gets her hopes up. You never want to piss off the best friend of the girl you’re interested in. They can kill your chances quicker than anything. At least Abby didn't seem upset. I expected her to get pissed off. Most girls would have. I guess she isn't like most girls.

An unsettling thought creeps into the back of my mind.

---