Chapter #6


For once in the many weeks I had stayed here, my classes went by very, very quickly. Before I had near enough time to collect my thoughts, I found myself walking to the student parking lot. It was close to forty degrees out today, which was the only thing strong enough to tear me away from my self pity. Digging my hands into the front pocket of my navy blue sweater, I dropped my head so I was looking at the ground. The wind was terrible when it was blowing right into your face. Reaching my silvery blue box of a car, I allowed my right hand to escape the warmth of my pocket in order to open the door. A sigh of relief flew out of my lungs as the shelter of my Honda slowly thawed out my frozen limbs.

I started my car, backing out of my spot and getting in line behind the other cars leaving. Leaning back in my chair I could not contain a groan. I was trying to relax, but it really wasn't working. I'd been out on 'group dates' before, and it wasn't really the first time I'd been asked out. The main difference with this instance was that it was the first time I'd ever said yes. And wanted to say yes. My eyes lazily wandered out my window, instantly zeroing in on two large figures walking through the cool air towards a large, black pick up truck. Their swaggers were so distinct, I didn't have to wait for them to get closer to know who they were. Trace came into clear view first, passing my car with a smile and a wink. Rolling my eyes, I sped off, the traffic clearing enough for me to get the hell out of there. This really was all his fault.

Taking the turn into my driveway a little quicker than usual, I hopped out, ignoring the cold as I stalked inside. I was nervous, and it read across my entire body. My shoulders were rigid, my lips pouted, and my movements a lot sharper than usual. I wasn't athletic, but I prided myself in being fairly graceful. Sort of, at least. My mom jumped as she sat upon the sofa, the loud noise of the door slamming open reverberating throughout the house.

"Is that you Angel?" She asked, turning her body to face me as she remained sitting on the couch. Go figure she'd use her little nickname for me.

"Yeah. Mom do you have your hair straightener still?" I grumbled, throwing my stuff onto the breakfast table and tearing my thick, wet sweater off. The wet wind always left my top layer far too damp for my liking.

"Well yes, of cour-" She was about to finish her sentence, but stopped mid way and jumped up from the couch, eyes glowing.

"What day is it Evelyn?" She asked, clasping her hands in front of her chest, trying to hide the grin that was already beginning to form on her face.

"Friday." I breathed, not meeting her gaze as I stalked into the kitchen, pouring myself a glass of water.

"Oh oh oh! You've got plans don't you? With who? Is it some friends you made at school?" She asked, all but skipping into the kitchen, radiating sunshine, rainbows and unicorns along the way.

"Yes I've got plans. With Trace." I mumbled his name very softly, knowing the second she figured out I was going on a 'date' she'd literally start jumping up and down and screaming.

"Trace? Who's tha-" She stopped, again, signalling me that the screaming was coming. Bracing myself I closed my eyes as she wrapped her lithe arms around me and started hopping up and down like a rabid bunny rabbit.

"My baby's going on a date! Oh goodness, we've got to get you ready!" She squealed, releasing me from her death vice and dragging me off back to her room.

"How did he ask you? Where are you going? What time? Is he picking you up? Tell me tell me tell me!" She grinned madly, pushing me down into a stool which oh so conveniently was placed behind her bathroom counter.

"In lunch. The movies. Seven. No, we're meeting." I barely it spit out as she brushed some powdery stuff onto my face. I wasn't completely hopeless, I wore makeup and fashionable clothes, so this really shouldn't have been that big of a deal. But of course, it was. Everything was extravagent when it came to her.

"Oooh, very nice. Is he cute? I mean, of course he's probably cute, he's going with you! But is he really cute?" She giggled, slopping some mascara and eye liner and eyeshadow onto my face, all within a few seconds. The hair straightener was heating up as she spoke, therefore causing her to pull a brush through my long, wavy hair. It looked like her's, just a bit longer with less wispy layers. My mom was always on the cutting edge. I preferred the classic look.

"Yeah, he's...very cute." I didn't exactly know how to describe Trace. Cute was certainly an understatement. Very cute was insulting. Handsome really didn't do him justice. Beautiful fit him better, but that wasn't really a masculine adjective, so I strayed away from the description.

"Oh I cannot wait to meet him! Next time, you should have him pick you up, that way I can see him for myself!" She exclaimed happily, just as excited as she had been the second she figured out my plans.

About forty five minutes later, my hair and make up was completely done. I had to admit, scatterbrained as my mom may have been, she certainly knew her makeup. My skin looked flawless. Literally. And I really was not one to boast. It was all peaches and cream, with a perfect rosy warmth spread across my cheeks. My eyes shimmered gently, a sparkly grey littered across my eyelids. My eyelashes were big and curly and black, what every girl dreamed, and my lips a soft, sweet pink with a shiny gloss on top. I looked pretty good. I usually described myself as average, or decent, so pretty good was a huge leap. My hair was straight and flowed down to my mid back, my few layers being very defined by the sheen of stick straight hair.

"Oh goodness, the theater is pretty far away, go get dressed!" She squealed, shooeing me out of her room as quickly as she had dragged me in. Rolling my eyes, I tried to keep a smile off my face. Alright so my mom was deeply irritating, but at times I couldn't help but be amused. She was so childlike, really, how could one avoid liking her? She was too vulnerable to turn your back on.

Pulling on a fairly tight, long sleeve, scoop neck purple shirt, I grabbed a new sweater to pull on over it. I didn't bother changing my jeans. I had nothing better to wear. Throwing on some tan uggs, I tucked the wet edges of my pants inside of the boots, figuring they were the cutest, practical shoes I could manage for how the weather was at the moment. By the time I had double checked my reflection, loaded some random things into a purse, and made my way downstairs it was time to leave. How time flew when you were deeply dreading the evening before you.

"Bye Angel! Call me if you need me, I'll see you by nine thirty ok?" My mom smiled at me, hugging me gingerly as to not smudge my intricate makeup or cause my hair to frizz. The nine thirty thing was her attempt at being a normal parent. I could come back at midnight and she wouldn't really have cared.

Backing out of my driveway, I exited the neighborhood, driving towards the town center. I'd passed the movie theater during the past weekend that I had gone searching for a normal store. It was pretty big, and very, very popular. Of course it would be, especially on a friday night! It was October on a peninsula, where did people go for entertainment? Anywhere indoors of course! Sighing heavily, I checked the time. 7:05, I was five minutes late. Good, five minutes less of awkward conversation.

Parking, I pushed my hands into my pockets, walking towards the ticket booths. It was beyond me why they had placed the things outside, but whatever. As I inched closer and closer, my vision was instantly consumed by one person. One very tall, very good looking person. He was standing with his arms crossed in front of his chest, his ebony hair groomed more than usual and his body adorned with dark blue jeans and a grey, expensive looking sweater. It became apparent to me then that no general adjectives could ever, ever fit him. Trace Ashcroft was nothing less than excrutiatingly beautiful.

The End

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