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“Pretty? It’s stunning. You are the definition of perfection.” She stands behind me, gathering my hair into a mock bun on top of my head. “Caleb is going to freak out when he sees you.”
I blush, still not used to the idea of Caleb and me.
“Now all we need to do is find you some heels to go with this.”
“No,” I say with a groan. “You can do my makeup and hair, but heels? Absolutely not. That’s where I draw the line.”
“So what, are you going barefoot?”
I laugh. “I’ll just wear my sneakers.” I lift the dress, showing my off white shoes with fraying laces. “It works.”
She gasps. “For the love of everything pure in this world, at least buy a new pair.”
“These aren’t that bad,” I say, tapping the sides of my shoes together.
“Sure.” She squints. “They definitely don’t have holes.”
“Oh no. Heaven forbid there’s a hole.”
“Please let us go get you a new pair.” She folds her hands into each other, begging.
“Fine.” I need a new pair of sneakers anyway. Mom’s been trying to take me, but I’ve successfully avoided each of her attempts. However, my shoes are fading fast. They don’t just have holes—the entire right sole is growing loose, threatening to detach.
Sadie herds me back into the changing room. “Okay, hurry up and get changed. Then we’ll go shoe shopping.”
“What about all these dresses you were going to try on?” I say, gesturing behind me.
Her laser focus aims down, burning holes into my feet. “I would, but this is an emergency.”
* * *
I wavegoodbye to Sadie with a giant bag in one arm and a shoe box in the other. It took twice as long to find a pair of sneakers I liked because I’m so picky about how the arches feel. I need the weight of my feet to be supported. I also like my shoes a little wider since pinched toes are the worst possible self sabotage a person could give themselves. I honestly don’t understand how some people go around wearing shoes with pointed toes.
Sadie drives off, and I start my familiar trek up the walkway. Then, I freeze.
Mom and Dad are fighting, and the walls of our house are doing a poor job of keeping their voices inside. I don’t know if it’s about Dad’s drink again or if Mom found something else to criticize him about. Either way, I don’t want to find out.
I back up, eyeing Caleb’s house. Is he home? Would it be weird if I just showed up again? I mean, wedidkiss. Now, I realize we haven’t labeled anything, but I have a hard time believing he’d be upset from a surprise visit.
We might even kiss again.
I shake my head, trying to stop my face from flushing any more. He’s taken over my thoughts. I find myself dreaming of him at night and texting him during the day, and somehow it’s not enough. I want to be by his side.
I feel safe with him.
Caleb’s car is in the driveway like normal, and his mom’s car is still gone. I wonder when she’ll be back.
As soon as I knock on the door, my heart speeds up. I don’t think I’ve been this flustered around the idea of seeing Caleb, but here I am, standing on his porch, ready to faint from the butterflies in my stomach.
The door cracks open, and my heart plummets.
“Hello, Becca,” Mrs. Park says.
“Hi,” I say with as much confidence as I can muster. “Is Caleb around?”
“No, he went to pick up something from the store for me,” she says.
“I see.” I look back at his car in the driveway.
