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Fallyn
I force out an uneven breath as I stare at myself in the mirror. My gaze slides over my reflection with a critical eye. There’s not a single hair out of place. I’ve left it long and loose around my shoulders before adding some soft curls with the iron. Then I applied just a bit of eyeshadow, dark liner, and pink lip stain. My hand trembled the entire time. It feels as if I’m being eaten alive by nerves. Earlier this afternoon, I spent two hours in the bathroom.
Everything’s been shaved.
Everything.
I’ve never done that before.
But the guy is paying big money and should have a clean work surface. I mean…I assume that’s important. Although, what do I know? It was tempting to text Chloe and ask.
Had I realized it earlier, I would have made an appointment to get everything waxed, but by the time it occurred to me, it was too late. The last thing I want to be is all red and puffy from having the hair follicles ripped from my skin.
No, thank you.
I’m self-conscious enough. No reason to make the situation any more embarrassing than it already is.
It took forever to pick out an outfit which is ridiculous because it’s doubtful I’ll be spending much time in it. Or that he’ll care about my fashion choices. It’s not like we’re going out on a date.
But still…
I want to look my best. It’ll give me the confidence boost I need to go through with this.
My gaze slides over the pink cashmere sweater and brown corduroy skirt that hits mid-thigh. I’m wearing brown suede boots that are soft and stretch over my calves. Beneath is a pink lacy bra and matching panties that I picked up last year while shopping with Viola at an expensive little boutique when money wasn’t an issue.
My ears are adorned with little diamond studs that are barely visible through my thick hair. I’ve never been one to wear a lot of jewelry, but these are important to me.
I wish that weren’t the case.
Wolf gave them to me for my fifteenth birthday. I’ve always worn them on special occasions. And in a weird way, this feels like one.
I’m about to lose my virginity.
As soon as that thought floats through my brain, my belly spasms with a burst of anxiety. My palm settles over my lower abdomen as I draw in another breath, hoping to settle everything that riots dangerously inside.
But it’s no use.
I’m a nervous wreck. The only thing getting me through this moment is that a large chunk of my tuition will be taken care of after this is over. I won’t have to worry about leaving school.
Or moving home.
In the end, that’s all that matters.
With one final look in the mirror, I snag my small black purse from the top of my dresser and head for the door. As I pass through the dining area, I catch sight of Viola in the kitchen. Even though it’s almost four o’clock in the afternoon, she has a big bowl of cereal and is just about to shovel a spoonful into her mouth.
Her eyes widen when she sees me, and she drops the utensil back into the container.
“Wow! You look amazing! Where are you going? Hot date?”
Well, shit.
Why didn’t I bother to come up with a cover story?
“Um, yeah,” I improvise, feeling guilty for lying. “I’m meeting up with someone for coffee.”
“Anyone I know?”
I blink, thrown off by the question. “Huh?”
