Page 77 of Intermission
My grin is so wide it almost hurts my cheeks. Impulsively, I wrap my towel-dried arms around my sister and hug her tight. “Thank you so much!”
“Stahhhhp.” Gretchen laughs and shakes her head. I plant a bigkiss on her cheek. “Enough! Go call him.”
With a squeal, I spin around to get my phone off my desk, only to stop before I’m halfway there. “I can’t call him. Mom took my phone, and... I’m pretty sure she keeps a close eye on the numbers that show up on the landline bill.”
“She does. Use mine.” Gretchen holds it out. “Just set it on my dresser when you’re done. I’m gonna go get in the shower.”
Noah is probably at work, so I send a text.
Gretchen:
I have permission to see you tonight. Are you busy?-Faith
He always checks his phone on his break, so I know he’ll text back. The waiting could very well kill me. I set Gretchen’s phone in plain sight on my vanity table while I dry my hair and get dressed.
A date.I’m going on a date with Noah.
Maybe.
If he doesn’t have other plans.
I bite my lip as I look in the mirror. Could he have other plans?
I decide to curl my hair. It’s fairly straight naturally, and my normal routine is to give it just a few swipes of the straightener to keep it sleek, but curls might be a nice change.
Plus, they take five-ever to do on my thick hair, so it’ll help pass the time.
I pull the seldom-used curling wand from the drawer of my vanity table, plug it in, and begin the long process of glamorizing my “cinnamon” head.
Just as I’m unwinding the last curl from the wand, the screen of Gretchen’s phone lights up.
Noah:
Ok, FAITH. What’s my favorite kind of tea?
What?
Ohhh... he’s suspicious because the text came from Gretchen’s number. I’ve got this.
Gretchen:
Cinnamon. Like the color of my hair. (See? Me. Faith.)
Noah:
Whew! Had to be sure, tho. Pick you up at six?
My hands shake in anticipation as I type back.
Gretchen:
See you then.-Faith
I take Gretchen’s phone to her room, as requested.
“Nice curls. When I finish drying my hair, can you do that on me?”
“Sure.”
