Page 26 of We Thought We Were Invincible
“Well, you should change first. I'm thinking something a little more…” She cocked her head, regarding me. “Sexy?”
“Uh…” Why the hell would I need to look sexy at her house? That was sooo not my thing.
She pulled me from the couch despite my protestations and dragged me toward my room where she rummaged through my closet. I doubted she'd find what she was looking for in there.
“Don't you have any cute clothes? Ugh.” She pulled back from my closet, scowling.
“Sorry I'm not like you,” I snapped, slamming the closet door and crossing my arms over my chest. “I have better things to care about than clothes.”
Morgan's eyes widened. “Cal, I didn't mean to offend you.”
“Then you should try not saying offensive things.”
Her lips pressed together in a flat line as she shifted from foot to foot. “I've got it.” Her face brightened. “You're going to wear something of mine.”
“I don't get why I have to change at all.” Looking down at my jeans and Tampa Bay Lightning t-shirt, it looked normal enough for me.
“Because.” She clapped her hands together. “Tonight is your eighteenth birthday party.”
“What the hell?” I didn't know whether to be angry because I told her I didn't want one or to feel good because she cared.
Kat cared, but she was busy and knew better than to go against my wishes.
Colby threw himself a beach party.
Then a thought struck me. “Who would even come?”
“Taken care of.” Morgan grinned. “Come on. We only have an hour before they get there.”
Morgan drove us to a house that must have been four times the size of mine. Beige, front-facing concrete made it blend in among the surrounding browns and whites. The two-story house was surrounded by perfectly manicured lawn and a flower bed my mother would have loved to have. Yellow allamandas. They were her favorite.
The inside mixed whites and greens and blues to create a calming ocean theme throughout.
“Morgan,” a woman called from the kitchen. “Is that you?”
“Yeah, Mom.” Morgan walked toward the voice and I followed, coming face to face with a middle-aged woman with dusty-blond hair and a wide smile. She hugged her daughter and then turned to me. When her arms came around me, I stiffened in surprise.
“You must be Callie,” she said. “We've heard so much about you.”
I just nodded when she finally released me.
“Are you girls hungry?” she asked. “The food for the party is here. I could make you up a plate?”
“Nah, Mom,” Morgan answered. “We have to go get ready.”
We turned to leave and as we reached the bottom of the stairs, Morgan's mom called to me. “Oh, I almost forgot. Happy birthday, Callie. Eighteen is a life changing one.”
Words caught in my throat at the motherly smile she gave me.
“Thank you, Mrs.Cook.” And then I escaped up the stairs.
Morgan was already in her closet, which was a freakin' walk-in. It didn't take long before she came back out and lobbed a black dress my way.
Holding it up, I shook my head. “In your dreams, Cook.”
She crossed her arms, narrowed her eyes, and stared. “It's just a dress.”
Sighing, I changed. She gave me an approving nod and went to find a dress for herself.
