Page 61 of Slots & Sticks
There’s a creak, a fizz, and then a long, theatrical sip. “Well, well, well. The teenage crush lives.”
“It’s not—” I flop backward onto the half-made bed. Bo pokes her head in from the hall, ears perked, clearly concerned for my sanity. “Okay, fine, maybe it is. But I don’t even know if it’s like, dating-dating. Maybe it’s just friendly. Maybe I’m misreading everything, and then I’ll ruin everything, and—”
“Dot.” Knova cuts me off, deadpan. “He asked you out to the Wynn. This is not ‘just friendly.’ This is date-date with appetizers and foreplay potential.”
“Oh my God.” I cover my face. “I should cancel. I can’t do this.”
“Nope. You’re not ghosting the man who clearly worships you.”
I let out a strangled sound that could generously be called a laugh. “I don’t even know what to wear.”
Knova snorts. “He’d make heart eyes at you if you were wearing a paper bag. But since the Wynn probably frowns on that, I’m coming over with options.”
“You don’t have to—”
“Of course, I do. You were ready to implode over a bedsheet, and I’m not letting you spiral yourself out of a love story. Is he picking you up at your dad’s?”
“Yeah. Six-ish. Our reservation’s at seven.” I stroke Bo’s silky head, trying to push past the lump in my throat. It’s strange, thinking about getting ready for a date in the same house my mom used to get ready for shows. “Thanks, Knov. Really.”
“Don’t thank me yet. I’m bringing backup.”
I freeze. “Wait. What backup?”
* * *
In my humble opinion, there is no reason on earth that it should take two hours to get ready to go anywhere. Knova and her sister-in-law Vivian disagree. They corner me in my bedroom and lock poor Skinbad and Bo outside. Occasionally, Bo paws at the door. Skinbad wanders the house, wailing like a tiny naked ghost.
I stopped by the burn unit this morning. Dad’s healing as best he can—still bandaged, still quiet, but alive. That’s enough for now. At least I don’t have to spend my whole evening preoccupied with worrying about him.
“Can I do your hair?” Viv asks. “I have ideas.”
“Sure?” I catch her eye in the mirror. “But we should pick a dress first, right?”
“First things first.” Knova crosses her arms and surveys me like I’m a cut of meat on the butcher block. “Glasses or contacts? Contacts are harder to take off…”
“But make it easier to maneuver in bed,” Viv adds with a wicked smile.
I bite my bottom lip. I like wearing my glasses, and my face never looks right without them, but Viv has a point. She and Knova are so pretty, albeit in very different ways. I decide tooutsource all fashion decisions to the two people who actually know what they’re doing.
“What do you suggest?” I ask.
Vivian and Knova both study me, then look at each other. “Contacts,” they say in unison.
Once my contacts are in, they proceed to decide the rest of my outfit, right down to the matching red underwear set Knova bought for me. I was afraid she’d pick a thong or something equally sexy, but the panties offer me a lot more coverage than anticipated, and the bra is sturdy enough to keep the girls, which are even larger than Viv’s post-pregnancy boobs, under control.
The two of them flutter around me, fairy godmother-style, playing with my hair and brushing on makeup. People have done this before, especially when Mom wanted to include me in photoshoots or have me on stage for certain performances. The makeup artists always tried to make me look like someone I’m not. Even when I looked “pretty,” I never looked like myself. I don’t want to feel that way tonight, but since I don’t have a better idea, I leave Viv and Knova to it.
Underneath the laughter and teasing, a knot of nerves coils in my stomach. What if I try this hard and he doesn’t look at me differently? What if he does, and I don’t know how to handle it? For years, I’ve been the quiet one in the corner, the girl with the messy bun and oversized hoodie. But tonight… I want to be seen. By him.
My nervous energy must bleed through, though, because Knova eventually steps back. “Everything okay?”
“I’m good.” I force a smile. “Maybe a little anxious about tonight.”
Knova shakes her head at me and gets back to work. “It’s Cam. He adores you. You’re going to have a good time.”
“But this is different than usual. We made plans. This is real.”
“And it’s about time,” Viv says. She’s doing something with a curling iron. Since my back is currently toward the mirror, I’m not sure what she’s up to. There was braiding involved earlier, but the rest is anyone’s guess.
