I dial my sister.
“Yallo?” Carrie answers, her face filling my screen through our FaceTime call.
“I need help,” I say.
“Cutting right to the chase, are we? What’s up?” She’s sitting at her kitchen table, so I’m assuming she has nothing better to do.
“I need help picking out an outfit. The vibe is casual.”
Carrie hums, tapping her chin thoughtfully. Her long blonde hair is pulled up into a ponytail, and I can see the question in her familiar hazel eyes before she even asks.
“Would this be for a date?”
“Yes,” I mutter, and she all but screams.
“Oh my god! Eli’s first date! Jeff, hurry, Eli is going on his first date!”
“What?!”A distant voice yells, and then the sound of heavy footsteps.
Jeff, in all his beefy, gym bro glory, pushes himself into view. His brown hair is sticking up as if he’s just rolled out of bed, and he’s missing his shirt. I swear he’s allergic to them.
“It’s not that serious,” I say.
“Yeah, it really is,” Carrie deadpans.
“Who’s the lucky guy? I can’t believe we’re finally witnessing the day.” Jeff pretends to wipe away tears.
“Alright, never mind. I’m hanging up.”
‘Wait!” Carrie yells. “Okay, okay. What are the outfit options?”
I prop my phone up on my dresser, giving the two of them full view of me while keeping the use of both hands.
“I can either do this,” I hold up the low-waisted jeans and tight shirt option. “Or this.” I trade it out for the slacks and flowy shirt.
“And it’s casual?” Carrie double-checks.
“Yeah.”
“Hmm.” She’s tapping her chin again, eyeing me up as she considers. “You don’t know where you’re going?”
“No, he didn’t give me a place.” In fact, Rowan gave me nothing other than the time he was picking me up and the dress code.
“Well, as a guy, I say go with the jeans if it’s casual,” Jeff offers, and Carrie rolls her eyes.
“But what if that’stoocasual for a date? The slacks could be a happy medium.”
“That’s what I was hung up on,” I groan. “It’s too hard. Should I cancel? I mean, I’m twenty-six and I’ve never evenbeenon a date.”
“No!” Carrie and Jeff yell at the same time.
“You are going, mister. End of story.” My sister is pointing into the camera with a stern expression.
“Listen,” Jeff starts again. “If aguysays casual, wear the jeans. You’re both thinking too hard about this.”
“Elijah is aguy,and he’s still debating,” Carrie argues, glaring at her husband.
“Eli only sleeps with super stereotypically manly men. If that guy said casual, it means jeans,” he insists. Both pairs of eyes settle on me for confirmation.
