He has a way of saying things that make me smile. To think I get to spend an evening with Theo listening to my favorite band—someone pinch me because I still can’t believe it.
Chapter 18
The orange beams of sunlight streaming through the window blinds gradually diminish, yielding to the gentle shades of early evening.
I open the creaking closet doors and comb the hangers, assessing my clothes. Tonight isn’t just any night; it’s the night I get to see BTS live at Lancaster Arena, floor tickets; the night I spend with Theo—our first official date.
As I envision us holding hands, dancing, and staring into each other’s eyes like we’re the only ones in the venue, the warmth and fuzzies in my belly prompt me to fan my face with both hands and inhale deeply, and I struggle to control my expectations while the bubbling excitement persists. I need to focus.
My fingers grow restless as I slide hangers aside with increasing frustration. Sweatshirts, T-shirts, jeans—nothing special enough for tonight. How am I supposed to stand next to someone like Theo looking so plain?
Stephanie’s words sound in my head.You seriously need a wardrobe upgrade if you’re going to start dating.
As I rifle through the same boring clothes I’ve worn since forever, I can’t help but admit how right she was to say that. Is this really all I have?
Wait. Maisie’s clothes.
My sister left behind a box when she moved out—things that no longer fit after she grew out of them. She’d always had better style than me.
I drop to my knees and reach under the bed, dust tickling my nose as I drag out the forgotten cardboard box. The tape peels away with a satisfying rip, and my breath catches when I see it—Maisie’s midnight blue dress from her graduation party. The one that made dad tear up.
I lift it up with awe, the silky fabric cool between my fingers. Could I actually pull this off?
I strip down to my underwear, goosebumps racing across my skin from the evening air coming thought the slightly parted balcony door. The dress slides over my head and settles against my body with surprising grace, hugging my curves in just the right way. I step toward the mirror and freeze.
Is that really me? The fabric shimmers as I twist from side to side, like stars twinkling in the night sky. It falls just above my knees—definitely date-worthy.
Will Theo’s eyes fly wide when he sees me? The thought sends a wave of heat rushing to my cheeks and my toes curl against the hardwood floor.
My white sneakers peek out from the closet—practical for dancing and cute enough to complete the look. I slide them on and grab my beige sweater blazer. My outfit is complete.
A quick twirl sends the dress floating around my thighs. For the first time in forever, a flicker of confidence ignites in my chest. Not bad, if I may say so myself. Maybe even good enough to make Theo’s easy-going smirk falter for just a second.
I move to my vanity, stomach fluttering with butterflies. Makeup is next.
I follow Stephanie’s instructions—champagne eyeshadow, steady-handed eyeliner, lash curling with the once-scary tool, zigzag mascara, ring-finger concealer for “the lightest touch,” peach blush, highlighter on cheekbones, nude lip liner, and rosy lipstick with clear gloss—her trick for “kissable” lips—although I’ll leave that last bit for Theo to see.
I step back from the mirror, hardly recognizing the girl staring back at me. Stephanie was right—makeup highlights your features rather than hiding them.
Time to show off a bit.
I walk over to the bathroom and knock.
“Come in,” Theo says.
As I enter, I find him leaning slightly over the sink, squeezing a tube of hair paste onto his fingers. His reflection in the mirror catches mine, and his mouth parts. “Wow. You look . . . gorgeous.” His expression is just the way I imagined it.
Unblinking, his eyes glide all over me, and I can’t help but feel immense satisfaction only the gaze of someone you likecan bestow. “Thanks.” I’m not used to receiving compliments, given that I’ve been picked on most of my life, but it definitely makes for a nice change—especially coming from Theo.
“I see you’ve learned your lesson,” I say, although stealing another glance underneath the slim fit navy-blue button-down shirt that accentuates the contours of his chest wouldn’t be so bad.
His signature smirk graces his mouth. “When in Rome.”
We fall into a routine, preparing in front of the mirror. I pull out my lipstick while Theo works the hair paste through his thick, unruly hair. Unable to avert my gaze, I watch as his biceps flex and he ruffles his hair into place.
“You know,” I say, capping the lipstick, “it’s not that hard to appear presentable.”
Theo raises an eyebrow at me in the mirror. “Says the girl who just spent twenty minutes deciding what dress to wear.”
