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My stomach sinks. "Is this about the fact that you're not good for me?"
"It's exactly about that."
"I have no reason to believe you."
"I'll give you one."
After a long pause, the little dots indicating he's writing appear again. "Can I pick you up at eight?"
"Yes. What's the dress code?"
"Casual."
***
I stare at my closet for about thirty minutes, making a mental inventory of everything I own before I accept that I have no appropriate item for tonight. I have jeans, hoodies, t-shirts with my favorite bands, but I have nothing to wear on a date. God...everything about Damon is too much. I drag my hands down my face. I like being near him too much, laughing and talking to him. I like the way his green eyes bore into mine, making my skin tingle with heat. If he were to disappear from the face of the earth tomorrow, I'd be devastated. It's a strong word, but it feels like the right one. That's when I realize how much trouble I’m in.
What's a girl to do when her closet fails her? The answer for most girls my age would probably be shopping. But since it was my nerdtastic taste in clothes that led to my poorly stocked closet in the first place, that's not a smart move.
I have a much simpler solution: breaking into Mom's closet. I've only been in it a few times before, but it's the size of my bedroom. I’ll find something appropriate. Thankfully, Mom doesn't like to own up to her age, so most of her clothes look young. I hear my parents' car pull in and then a screaming match blowing up downstairs. When I was young, I used to play a movie at maximum volume when they started fighting, but now I can block their voices out all by myself. I'll just have to be extra careful when I leave so they don't see me.
I end up with a nude-colored dress with straps. It's not extremely short, but it's tight. The exaggerated cleavage makes me blush. I feel naked in it, so it must be right for a date. I put on some peep-toe sandals and a light jacket and sneak out. Not the easiest task, because both Mom and Dad are downstairs. I told them I'd go over to Hazel's tonight, which is a risky move since she isn't in the country. If they see my clothes, I'm in trouble. Mom pushes me to dress differently, but I have a hunch she won't appreciate my stolen outfit. Once I get past the front door, my muscles loosen a notch. I only allow myself to take a deep breath after passing our humongous garden and the front gate. The relaxing moment only lasts a few seconds as the realization that I'll be meeting Damon in about two minutes kicks in. I managed to stave off the nerves while I was preparing, but now as I approach our meeting place, all the jitters come back with a vengeance. When I reach the junction where Damon is supposed to meet me, he's not here. This doesn't help the jitters in the slightest. I pace on the pavement, chewing the inside of my cheek, rubbing my sweaty palms on my flimsy dress. Maybe he's changed his mind. A motorcycle roars from the distance, approaching with a mind-bending speed. I shake my head. I'll never get their appeal. For me, they are nothing more than death on two wheels.
When the motorcycle stops in front of me, I am speechless.
When Damon descends from it, I catch my breath. Removing his helmet, he just stares at me, his lips parted, his bright green eyes wider than I've ever seen them as they travel over my body.
"You have a motorcycle?" I ask at the same time he exclaims, "What are you wearing?"
I become ten times more self-conscious than I already was, trying to cover myself up. "You don't like it?" I murmur, looking away.
"It's… Well, you...I didn't think you owned something like that."
"I could say the same about you," I say, gesturing at the motorcycle.
"Really, is it that surprising? I have a bad attitude, tattoos, and hate everyone in California except you. Is a bike that much of a surprise?"
I grin. "I guess not."
"But nothing about your Linkin Park t-shirts led me to believe you might own something that shows your boobs and ass at the same time. You usually hide both."
My cheeks are on fire. "It's not my dress," I mumble. "It's Mom's." She looks better in it.
"Dani, don't misinterpret what I'm about to say, okay?" Damon takes a few steps, stopping in front of me. He puts his hands on my shoulders. "You look stunning. But you can't come with me dressed like this."
"Why not?" I challenge. "It's...casual."
"Jeans are casual. This is hot. I would never object to that, but where we're going tonight...it's not a good idea. And you'll freeze on the bike. Go change. I'll wait for you here."
"I can't go back. My parents will see me."
A smile crosses his lips. "You snuck out? They don't know you're out?"
"They think I'm at Hazel's. I can't make it inside without them seeing me."
"Dani..." His eyes are pleading.
"We should go. We'll be late."
