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For three days, all I can think about is how my reassurances to my mother about how I’m fine apparently caused her to worry more than if I had broken down in tears, because she set up an appointment with the therapist I first saw after I learned of my condition. That last time when I was at Brent’s and I said I was fine, I meant it and it was true.
Mother doesn’t believe me, however, so I’ve been ignoring her calls. You know it’s bad when I’m happy to have school to immerse myself in because that never happens. I have school and work to focus on Thursday, but only work Friday. It takes everything I have not to ask Brent if I could come over. He’s messaged me and there seems to be mild concern in most of his texts. He also hasn’t invited me over, so I haven’t asked. Instead, I do schoolwork, work, and run around campus.
But today, I see Brent again since we’re going to a hockey game. I’ve been fretting over what to wear for an hour. What do people wear to hockey games? How cold will it be? What are their team colors, so I can at least blend in? Will fans ridicule me for looking cute and obviously not knowing anything about the game? This date is very stressful.
I text Erin and make her come over to help me, feeler dumber by the minute.
“Jamie,” she begins as she walks into my room. “It’s a freaking game. Jeans.” She tosses a pair of jeans at me. My phone dings with a text from Brent.
Brent: Where are you? You’re late, you know. Want me to pick you up?
Crap! I’ve wasted way more time than I thought I had. I haven’t even put on my makeup yet. I quickly text him back.
Me: So sorry! Running way behind. Yes, please pick me up.
“Sweater because it might actually be cold.” She rifles through my things while I slip into the jeans and then throws a white sweater at me, followed by a pair of shoes. “I’m also packing you a bag.”
“For what?” I ask once I’m fully clothed and facing a mirror on the back of the door to apply my makeup.
“Because every time I turn around, you’ve spent the night. Be prepared for a change.”
I frown. “Won’t he think I’m making an assumption? And isn’t that bad?”
“No. He’ll just know you’re ready for sex. You are wearing sexy undies, right?” In a flash, she’s behind me and lifting my shirt to check my bra.
“Erin!”
She waves a hand of dismissal. “I’m saving you time. Do you think tonight will finally be the night?”
“I don’t know. I’m not worried about it.” Erin seems to think Brent must have a magic penis that I’ve seen and am currently waiting to test drive; that’s the only logical reason she can think of that I would date a man eighteen years older than I am. When I told her sex had nothing to do with it, she didn’t believe me. I’m still not sure I’ve convinced her that I haven’t had sex with him or seen his so-called magical parts.
My phone chimes with a text from Brent; he’s here.
“I have to go.”
Erin shoves the tote bag of clothes in my arms, which has my purse lying on top. It’ll be easier to take it than try to leave it and argue with her about doing so. Unfortunately, she follows me.
“What are you doing?”
“I have to go to the library to study,” she replies innocently.
“Then where are your books?”
“In my car.” She waggles her keys as if that solves everything. The moment we’re outside and she spots Brent standing on the sidewalk, waiting for me, she grabs my arm and forces me to stop walking. “Is that him?” she whispers.
“Yes.”
“Holy hell. Are you sure he’s old because he’s hot, Jamie!” She slaps my arm a few times.
“I have to go,” I repeat, breaking away from her. “Sorry. I’m the worst date ever today,” I say once I reach him.
“It’s fine. That a friend of yours?” He takes my hand in his.
“Yes, please ignore her and let’s go.”
He chuckles and lets me drag him until he takes the lead since he’s the only one between the two of us who knows where he parked. “What’s with the big bag?”
“Oh, that’s all her idea, too. It’s nothing.” I toss it in the backseat as soon as I’m in his truck. I don’t want to think about what that bag represents, thanks to Erin and her big ideas. There’s no need to have nerves about that when we’re on our way to a hockey game.
