“Do you really think it looks nice?”
“Emma, I told you a hundred times…you look wonderful,” replied Ashlee. Umala cooed her consensus.
I was standing in my bedroom, wearing the dress they got for me. It was beautiful, unlike any dress I’d seen before. Most were extremely traditional, with high collars, itchy lace, and heavy arm drapings, but this…this was light, bright, and flowed in the air. I caught myself wondering what Tracer would do when he saw it.
Oh, please, I told myself, don’t get all mushy. He’s a guy friend. You don’t date guy friends that can barely look you in the eye and are too shy to say you look nice.
And yet, it felt compelling. But I’d never had a boyfriend. My relationships were strung out as it was. I couldn’t risk trying, inevitably failing, and having awkward silence at the lunch table until one of us left, as that would just ruin everything.
So, we were stuck until one of us figured out what to do. If tonight went as wonderfully as it possibly could. Which it wouldn’t.
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