Page 37 of Living for Truth
Morgan:What shade?
Hannah:…cerulean?
Morgan:Perfect. I’ll see you there.
Hannah:See you soon.
Confused, I touch up my makeup and head upstairs to meet my parents and Jake.
My mom comes out of her room and frowns when she sees my dress. “Are you wearing garments?”
I self consciously tug at the hem of the dress, even though I quadruple checked that it would cover the godforsaken article of clothing. “Yes.”
“Did you roll them up? You know that’s not allowed.” Mom scowls, but before she can further her lecture, Jake runs up the stairs, and my dad emerges from his office.
“Alright, let’s get going so I can get home before the start of the baseball game,” my dad grumbles, heading straight for the garage.
I’m this close to telling them we don’t need to go at all if it’s such an inconvenience. I’d rather go to dinner with just Morgan, anyway.
But that would cause more problems, so I keep my mouth shut and slide into the backseat of my dad’s brand new, black SUV.
The drive to Hughes is silent, except for the radio playing some sort of talk radio station that my dad’s obsessed with.
When we arrive, I see Morgan’s already parked. As he sees us exit the car, he climbs out of his and walks over carrying a bouquet of flowers and a small pink box.
I told him no gifts!
“Happy birthday, Han.” He grins, wrapping me in a bear hug. He smellsreallygood, like the flower shop mixed with something spicy, but I can’t really determine the exact smell.
“Thank you, Morgan.” I pull back and notice he has on a white button up with little blue flowers on it that match my dress perfectly.
He looks so good.
“Mr. and Mrs. Layton, it’s good to see you again.” He nods at my parents, then extends his hand to Jake. “Hey man, I’m Morgan. You must be Jake. Nice to meet you.”
Jake, ever the people-person, takes his hand enthusiastically. “Nice to meet you too.”
Then, Morgan’s attention is back on me. “I know you said no gifts, but I couldn’t help it.” He holds out the bouquet of red carnations mixed with sunflowers and a small light purple flower I don’t recognize. I wouldn’t think the colors would mesh well, but they look stunning.
Morgan hands over the small box, so I pass the bouquet to my mom who looks like she’s smelledsomething bad. She’s probably upset he didn’t give me roses or something “fancier.”
Morgan looks like a little kid on Christmas, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet as he watches me pull the silky ribbon bow apart. I give it to Morgan, who puts it in his pocket, then carefully open the box. I gasp when I see the peach colored crystal butterfly nestled in the cotton.
My eyes find Morgan’s. “You remembered?”
If I’m not mistaken, the tips of his ears turn a little pink. “Of course I did. That was the first time we met, and I remember every moment. Can I help you put it on?”
Stunned, I simply nod and hand him the delicate gold chain. I turn around and hold my hair up as best I can while he slips the necklace around my neck, and his surprisingly nimble fingers clasp it behind me.
I pretend the slight touch of his fingers doesn’t leave goosebumps on my arms. I disregard the fluttering in my stomach and the way the world seems to condense into this two-foot square where only we exist. I ignore the fact that my heart is already too invested in this thing between us even though it’s only been a few weeks, and it’s supposed to be fake.
Nothing about this moment feels fake.
“We’re going to be late for our reservation,” my mom snaps, turning on her heel and striding towards the restaurant, still gripping my bouquet.
Jake and my dad fall into step with her, and Morgan places his hand on my lower back as we follow them.
I forgot we’d actually have to interact with my parents, and now my stomach isn’t fluttering with twitterpatedbutterflies but anxiety. I want to believe my mom won’t use this as an interrogation, but I’m not holding out hope. My dad will only want to talk football, and Jake will give input where he deems necessary.
