17. Tori
17
TORI
“When’s the last time you went on a date?” Hailey’s voice came through the speaker on my phone as I got ready for my dinner with Lucas.
“It’s been a while.”
“There was that guy, Fred, who was in your Psychology of Education class last year. How many times did you go out with him?”
I didn’t answer as I stared in the mirror over the dresser, carefully applying eyeliner. I hoped it looked smokey, and not like a child went wild with a black crayon. “It was Frank from Philosophy of Education, and three times, I think?”
Hmm, maybe a little more eye shadow? It wasn’t like I was trying to seduce Lucas, but I wanted to look nice for him. And maybe also for me. It wasn’t often that I had a reason to dress up.
“What happened with him?” Hailey asked. “Did he ghost you?”
“It was kind of a mutual ghosting. We never set up a fourth date and started texting less frequently, and that was that.”
“And that history major?”
“Just one date.” I laughed. “He’s ancient history.”
Hailey giggled. “Funny. Tell me about what you’re wearing—no wait, is there a full-length mirror there? Snap a picture and send it to me.”
“I’m in my underwear right now, so probably not a good idea.”
She laughed. “Regular underwear or sexy underwear?”
“Moderately sexy? A strapless bra and matching panties.” I didn’t have anything really risqué.
“But it’s something you wouldn’t be embarrassed to be seen in, right?”
I rolled my eyes. “No one’s going to be seeing it tonight except me.”
“So you say. Did you shave your legs?”
“Hailey!” She was exasperating, especially since she still wouldn’t reveal which of her three hot-as-sin roommates she was with. “Yes, I did, but just because people will see them. It’s not a ballgown that reaches the floor.”
Shaving my legs and getting them so smooth had actually been a pleasant experience. It had been lovely to take a bath without worrying that someone else needed the bathroom. Lucas and Kyle weren’t home yet. Jayden had driven me back here after my four o’clock class, but he was downstairs installing the new showerhead.
“How are you wearing your hair? And if you say in a ponytail, I’m going to drive out there and cut it off.”
“You don’t know how to get here,” I said with a laugh. “But no, not a ponytail. I’m working on it right now.” I described what I was doing as I brushed my hair in front of the mirror. Modeling a video I’d seen online, I pulled back the sides, twisting them as I went and leaving a few tendrils to frame my face. Then I brought the two handfuls together behind my head and did my best to recreate the intricate knots as the girl in the video had. It took a few tries, but I was pretty pleased with the results after I’d pinned it into place.
“So it’s like a half updo?” Hailey asked.
“Yes. The rest is just hanging down my back.”
“Good. Your hair is gorgeous. Lucas is going to love it. He’s the one with the hair fetish, right?”
“No one has a hair fetish.” I spoke quieter, in case one of the guys had come home without my hearing them. “But if someone did, it would be Jayden, not Lucas.”
She laughed. “Okay, tell me about the dress that is going to blow Lucas’s mind.”
“It’ll probably blow his mind that I even own a dress. He probably thinks my entire wardrobe is just oversized sweatshirts and leggings.”
“Then he’s going to be in for a surprise.”
Growing up with a single mom meant that we never had a lot of extra cash, but when I hit my teen years, my mom and I got into thrifting—at least during those periods when Doug wasn’t in her life.
Some weekends, we’d drive up to Atlanta and spend all of Saturday at our favorite thrift stores. My mom always said I had a good eye because I’d find some nice clothes, sometimes even designer dresses. I had a couple of them with me here in Haverford.
The one I chose was sage, which reminded me of Lucas’s eyes. It was a cold-shoulder minidress, which meant that there were just spaghetti straps holding it up. Once I slipped it over my head, the sleeves hung down and only covered my upper arms. The neckline was slightly scooped, and then the dress hung in loose ripples to mid-thigh. It wasn’t fitted, but somehow the way the fabric that swirled around my hips and thighs was pretty and feminine looking, at least to my eye.
“How does it look?”
There wasn’t a full-length mirror in here, but I did my best to snap a selfie that showed the whole of the dress.
Hailey squealed—actually squealed—when she saw it. “You look gorgeous.”
“Thank you.”
“Sorry, I misspoke. You look fucking gorgeous.”
I laughed. “Thanks?”
“Lucas is going to be eating out of your hand.”
I giggled at that image. “I’m pretty sure the restaurant would frown upon that.” Though he hadn’t told me where we were going, just that it was a bit fancier than the restaurants out this way.
Hailey sighed. “Now I want to get dressed up and look all pretty, too.”
“And which one of your hot roommates would you show once you got all dressed up?”
“Nice try.”
I laughed. “I don’t think you could choose wrong when it comes to those three.”
She coughed, almost a choking sound after I said that.
“Are you okay?”
Hailey cleared her throat. “Yes, fine. Are you wearing high heels?”
“Of course.”
“One more question and then I’ll stop micromanaging your outfit. What jewelry are you wearing?”
“I already have earrings in. They’re gold—not real gold, but they dangle and sparkle. And I’ve just got to put on my necklace, and I’ll be ready to go.” I smoothed down my dress. The fabric flowed around me when I moved, but when I was still, it clung to my curves. “I’m nervous.”
“Don’t be. You’re going to have a blast. And if you don’t, then have a blast with one of the other two.”
“Hailey!” She was being outrageous. She hadn’t been like this last year. Her roommates were clearly a bad influence on her—but I was pretty sure she liked it that way. This past month or two, she’d been the happiest I’d ever seen her.
I lowered my voice. “I should probably let you go—especially if Lucas is out in the living room and you’re saying things like that.”
“Okay, but have fun. Seriously. This guy’s a cutie, yes, but he’s your friend, too. Just relax and have fun, okay? You deserve it. And it sounds like he does as well.”
“I will.” I said it more confidently than I felt. That was the plan, to have a nice, fun evening, but still—dates were nerve-wracking.
After I hung up the phone, I opened the top dresser drawer for the final touch. On my tenth birthday, just a few years before she met Doug, my mom gave me a gold necklace. There was a thin gold chain and a small pendant in the shape of a flower. She’d saved up for it for months, and I loved it.
It was one of my most prized possessions, so I didn’t wear it every day out of fear that it might get broken. Instead, I kept it in a padded jewelry box. I frowned as I moved aside the bras, panties, and socks in the top drawer. Then I felt the velvet surface of the box.
I set it on top of the dresser and smiled in anticipation. I liked my dress. I liked the strappy heels I’d put on. But this—this necklace meant something to me, and it felt like the centerpiece of the whole outfit. I hoped Lucas would notice it and maybe ask me about it. I didn’t have many good memories of my mom since she met Doug, so I cherished the ones I had from before that time.
I opened the box and moved the white cotton padding. The glint of gold made me smile as I reached for the necklace.
And froze.
My mind scrambled to make sense of what I was seeing. The chain was gold, as was the flower charm.
But I’d never seen this necklace before in my life.