For some reason, the comment makes me feel a bit lighter. “Thanks.”
There’s an awkward pause because this is the first we’ve spoken since dinner. I’m still ashamed by what happened. “Zayne, I don’t even know how to begin to apologize?—”
“Stop.” His tone is firm. “Do not apologize, Dot.”
“But—”
“Nobody’s upset. Not me, not Mimi, not Mom. Not even Lenny.”
I swallow down a hard knot in my throat. “I’mupset, though. I can’t believe all this happened. And now my mom is leaving in the morning.” My voice wavers.
“I wish I could hug you right now,” he whispers in my ear. “I wish I could drive over there right now and just hug you.”
The idea alone makes my heart pound. Zayne in here with me, while everyone else is asleep? My voice sounds tiny when I ask, “Can’t you?”
A beat of silence. And then, “I’ll be right there, Dot.”
He hangs up, and my breaths shudder as I look around my room. Is it clean enough? Does it smell nice? I straighten some of the makeup, nail polish, and skincare products scattered across my white vanity.
My gaze snags on the blue dress, still draped across my bed. I jolt out of bed and gather it up, hanging it in my closet. If he sawit before the dance, it would ruin the surprise. I also collect the earrings and necklace Mom and I picked out and put them back in my jewelry box. I don’t know how long it will take Zayne to get here, but I’m sure I have time to change into cuter pajamas.
Ten minutes later, there’s blush on my cheeks, and I’m comfy in my champagne jogger lounge set. My braids are in low pigtails and the scent of Chanel no. 4 is just barely noticeable in the air.
My phone vibrates. Zayne’s text flashes across the screen.
Zayne
I’m here.
Me
Can you come in through my window? There’s a ladder on the side of the house.
Zayne
Sure. Which side of the house is your room on?
And why is there a ladder?
Me
If you’re facing the house, my room is on the right side. And for your information, I like to sit on the roof sometimes.
I unlock the latch on my bedroom window and slide it open for him. A moment later, his face appears through the darkness of the night, visible from the dim lighting my room is emanating.
“Hi,” he whispers, and expertly jumps up onto the window-pane. I reach out to help him, but he doesn’t even need it, climbing through and landing on my carpet with a barely audible thud.
“Hi,” I giggle. “Welcome to my room.” I hold my arms out from my sides.
He blinks, as if just realizing where he is, and takes in our surroundings. “Wow. I really like it. It’s so very…you.”
I try to see what he’s seeing. Fashion magazines stacked on my vanity beside bottles of nail polish and makeup. My clothing rack packed with trendy outfits and my favorite classic pieces. And my favorite color clearly visible in the abundance of yellow hues that radiate warmth and positivity. I smirk. “It’s all the yellow, isn’t it?”
He nods. “Definitely. That and the lack of books.”
We both laugh quietly, hushed, breathy sounds of pure mirth.
Zayne shakes his head. “Have you considered taking that ladder down? Someone could break in, or something.”
