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Why is this so scary?
Licking my lips, I shrug. “I don’t know. It scares me. Putting myself out there and stuff, I don’t know. What if I do something wrong? What if I say the wrong thing, and he thinks I’m down but I’m not?”
Wrapping her arms around my neck, she leans her head on them. “Sofia, that’s the great thing about being a woman. We run this. We make the decisions, and while some dickheads don’t respect that, I know for a fact that Ryan would. But, really, I don’t think he’s thinking you’re coming to hook up. I mean, you’ve been blowing him off for weeks, and then all of a sudden, you’re ready to get down? I don’t think so.”
I nod slowly. I think she’s right. “I don’t know. God, this is stupid! I should be working out. Instead, I’m sitting here talking about this because it’s a distraction. I told you!” I say, setting her with a look, and she grins.
“But isn’t it fun?”
Well, maybe I think you’re the perfect distraction.
His words shake my core and have my thighs trembling. No, I’m not a nun, and he’s hot as fuck and funny. So funny, and he has this cute, boyish charm to him, but it freaks me the hell out. I don’t cry, but I feel like I want to. I’m just so frustrated. “I don’t know.”
“Come on,” she says, squeezing my neck. “Be honest with me. You like him?”
I lean into her, and I shrug. “I mean, he doesn’t suck.”
She grins against my cheek. “So, let’s go. Let’s have fun and see what happens. In no way, shape, or form do I believe you should go in there with the intention of handing your card over. I want you to go and just have fun. Let loose and see if you like him.”
I don’t need to see if I like him. I know I do, but I don’t know what that means. Do I let loose? Do I let things happen? Or do I try to control it all? But then, how do I control it? What do I want?
I want to support my mom and give her a good life.
But what about me?
What about my life?
When a tear rolls down my cheek, I wipe it away quickly, but Amelia sees it. “Oh, Sofia, don’t cry. It’s okay. I get it. I do, and if it’s too much, we won’t go.”
I shake my head. “I just… I don’t know.”
“I know,” she says softly, kissing my cheek lovingly. “Let’s play hooky today. We can lie in this room, eat bullshit all day, and watch movies. Just relax.”
I shake my head, even though that sounds like a fabulous time. “I can’t. I have that stupid computer class, and I can’t miss.”
She squeezes my neck. “Crap, I know you can’t miss. It’s stressing you out.”
“Yeah, though Ryan said he’s gonna give me his notes.”
She grins. “Good. His notes will be great.”
I wipe away another traitorous tear. I hate crying, especially over something so silly. I just struggle with how torn I am. On one hand, I want to let loose and have fun. On the other, I want to stay in my bubble and work for my goals. Is there a balance?
Glancing over to where Amelia laid out the dresses, I know there is no way in hell I’m wearing either of them. But I do want to see him. Am I really going to go? Clearing my throat, I whisper, “You can do my hair, but I’m not wearing heels and a dress.”
She shrugs, not the least bit affected by that. “Cool, I’ll wear one, then.” She sends me a grin. “We’re gonna have a blast.”
“And you won’t leave me?”
“Not unless you want me to.” When she waggles her brows, I groan, falling back into the bed.
I’m going to a party.
My first party. Ever.
To see Ryan.
Whelp.
When Amelia mentioned that she thought I’d look like J.Lo with my hair straightened, I didn’t give it much thought. I’ve always had my hair a curly mess. I didn’t need it another way since it was always in a bun, but as I stand in front of her mirror looking myself over, I almost can’t believe what I see. It took her an hour to get my hair bone straight, and it looks insanely pretty. It’s well past the middle of my back, and I love it, though there is no way in hell I would take the time to do this every day. My makeup is dark and bold, and I’m pretty sure Amelia missed her calling as a professional makeup artist because she’s talented as hell. Unlike her, though, I’m not wearing a skintight dress and high heels. I thought she’d fight me on it, but she didn’t. Instead, I’m wearing some leggings along with an oversized varsity Nike shirt. I have my trusty pink Nikes on, and while I know I’m dressed down, I feel beautiful.
I just hope Ryan thinks I am.
“I wish I could wear something like that and look as hot as you do,” Amelia says, moving her hair off her shoulders before holding up her phone. “Smile. I gotta send this to Shelli.”
I do as she asks, and when the phone clicks, I glance over at her. “You could.”
I mean, don’t get me wrong. She’s insanely hot in her body-hugging red dress, but she doesn’t need it. She’s stunning, and I know everyone thinks so. She waves me off. “No, I have small-girl syndrome. I have to wear something to get attention since most the time, guys don’t see me.”
“They do too,” I insist, but she shakes her head.
“No, they don’t. Come on, we are officially fashionably late.”
I snort with laughter as we head out the door after I tuck my student ID and phone into my bra. “Has Ryan texted you?”
“You mean has he been blowing up my phone asking if you’re coming? Yes, yes, he has,” she says with a laugh before she shuts the door behind us. As I follow along, I can’t help but be excited. But then, I’m scared shitless at the same time.
We arrive at the party within minutes. The Bullies’ house isn’t far from our dorm, yet it is far enough away that we don’t hear music until we are almost there. And boy, is it loud. People are everywhere, drinking, playing hockey on their knees, and girls are grinding to the music. It’s a lot to take in at once. I haven’t been around so many people like this in my whole life. Without really thinking, I take hold of Amelia’s hand. When she glances back at me, she smiles.
“Insane, yeah?”
