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Everything in me shouts to text him pictures of the dresses and ask for his opinion, but I’m still a little mad at him.

This morning we ran into each other at Glazed and Confused and I awaited my apology, or at least for him to offer to pay for my glazed croissant, and nothing. Nada. Zilch. We made eye contact, both gave each other a look like, well…go on, and then grabbed our own food and drinks before leaving in opposite directions. A real pain in the butt because I needed to go the same way as him but I didn’t want to walk near him the whole way.

Maybe I’m wrong. I doubt it, but I just don’t see what I need to apologize over.

Sure, I know how he feels about my mom, but then again, it’s my mom. Why does he care if I’m reaching out to her or not?

Something licks the back of my mind, a little reminder of a handful of memories: waiting in the Turners’ driveway for the day Mom was coming to town. Waiting outside Riley’s front porch for Mom to finally take Lottie and me to Six Flags. The Jonas Brothers concert tickets that got canceled because Kevin suddenly caught the flu (only to find out that never happened), the movie dates canceled, the last-minute Traffic is wild, will come back next Easter texts.

Each lonesome memory isn’t entirely alone long, though. Knox always follows. A cup of hot chocolate made just for me so we can sit in the driveway together. “Who cares about Six Flags?” he said with a scoff. “I heard everyone throws up after the roller coasters and that their pizza tastes like cardboard.” A handful of Easter eggs snuck in my bed with my favorite candy stuffed in each one.

From that perspective…I guess I get it a little bit. He’s never really got to see the best of her.

He never was on the receiving end of those dazzling smiles she gives when everything is just right. He never saw her big, full-belly laughs when she was at her happiest. He didn’t see her dropping off the Mercedes or the last-second “Let’s go grab donuts and go to the zoo!” trips.

I know she’s flaky sometimes and asks me for money, but does that really make her a bad person? Bad enough to get pushed down to the bottom of Knox’s shitlist anyway? Not in my mind.

“If that’s his favorite color, maybe he should be taking you.”

“Huh?” I tilt my head.

“You said Knox’s favorite color is dark green, but as I recall, he isn’t your date tomorrow.”

No, he’s not. I chew on my bottom lip, that unsteady feeling in my gut coiling tighter.

“Flick.” She sighs.

“Lottie.”

“Do you want to do this?”

“Do what?”

“This.” She gestures around us to the dresses and shoes piled up. “You know I’m always down for a shopping date, but you don’t seem very happy.”

“I think I’m just nervous.” That’s normal, right? She even said so herself. “What do you do on dates?”

“Talk. Eat. Flirt. Kiss.”

A lump forms in my throat, golf-ball shaped. “You think I should kiss him on the first date?”

“I think you should see what happens and follow his lead. From the two minutes I talked to him, the guy seems like he knows what he’s doing. He’s kind and social. Charming. Not my type”—aka anybody that isn’t Walker Lane—“but I think he makes sense for a first date. If you don’t want to flirt, don’t. If you don’t want to kiss him, don’t. Trust that smart gut of yours.” She pokes at the soft flesh of my belly. “It can’t steer you wrong.”

It definitely has led me astray before and here we are…

“Okay.” I nod. “Okay.”

My phone dings and I run to check it. Disappointment falls in my stomach when I see nothing from Knox, but instead a single text from Cal.

Cal: Since you’re the one who has to look at it the most, which tie do you like best? :)

Attached are two pictures, mirror selfies with the same suit but a bowtie in one and a neck tie in the other with similar dark patterns. His smirk is similar in both, a little sheepish, and in the reflection of the mirror is his bedroom behind him. Plaid blue bedding and a pillow tossed to the side, a dresser with multiple colognes and a comb resting on top. A Polaroid of a golden retriever shoved in the corner of the mirror and some medallion for soccer hanging from the top.

I zoom in on the ties and then on his clean-cut face. Gosh, he really is handsome, huh?

I text back that the neck tie is my favorite and promptly send the pictures of the green dress and the orange, asking which he likes best.

Cal: Wow, you look incredible