“Because I don’t want you to get hurt.” Those words pain me as I say them. I feel terrible that she can’t feel safe in my house.
Her eyes soften in understanding. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about?—”
I shake my head vigorously. “You can’t come over. Please.”
“Then how else will I help you with the outfit?”
“I don’t know.”
“Hmm.” Marie gets lost in her thoughts.
A few seconds later, she gets up from the bed and walks into her walk-in closet. Taking out one outfit after another, she fills her arms with dresses, cardigans, sweaters and scarves. The pile builds up so high that it hides her from my view.
Satisfied, once she can’t find anything else in her closet, she returns and dumps all the clothes on her giant bed.
“That took a while,” she breathes out. “But I think I got everything.”
I stare at the pile, then her. “For what?”
She meets my gaze. “You can wear something of mine to the date.”
“No, I can’t.” I protest.
“You can.”
“This is too much.” I don’t even glance at the pretty clothes. “I’ll find something in my closet.”
Marie comes closer and grabs my hand. “This isnottoo much. This is just enough. Friends do a lot more for each other.”
“I can’t, Marie.”
“Look at it this way. After school you come here and change. You look prettyandfeel pretty—it is important to feel that way. Then Heath comes to pick you up and his jaw breaks and falls to the ground because you look perfect. You guys go out have fun and eat some place nice. And then you come back, change and go home.”
“You’ve thought this through.”
She nods enthusiastically. “I have. This way you’ll be safe—” We both hang on to that word, but she recovers quickly. “—and won’t have to worry about anything.”
“Safe,” I whisper. That one word hits me like a bullet.
Marie stiffens. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend?—”
“You didn’t.”
“Then why do you look sad.”
I sigh. “My parents don’t know that I’m going out on a date. I should tell my mom. But I won’t because she doesn’t like Heath at all.”
“Why not?”
“She thinks he’s like my dad,” I say, not thinking about the fact how openly I’m telling her stuff. Somehow it’s become easier to just say what I want to say.
Marie gasps. “What the fuck? Heath wouldneverhurt you.”
I nod. “Yes. But she doesn’t think so. In her head, I’m making the same mistake as her younger self.”
“You are not.” She asserts.
I smile.
