Page 93 of The Year I was Almost Prom Queen

“Come in,” he says, beckoning me forward.

I hadn’t realized I was standing still, staring. I move toward the front door and follow Jaron.

“This is the most picturesque house I have ever seen,” I say.

“Thanks,” Jaron smiles. “My mom takes a lot of pride in having it look nice.”

The inside is as cozy and well-kept as the outside. A strong, spicy smell fills the house with warmth.

I can hear giggling coming from the other side of the wall. Two dark, little heads peer around the corner, and then pop out of sight again.

Jaron creeps toward the wall, signaling me to be quiet by putting a finger to his lips. He silently holds up one finger, then two. On three he jumps into the other room, yelling. I can hear screams, followed by more giggling. Jaron reappears, dangling two little girls upside down by their ankles.

“Emma, these are the twins, Olivia and Zara. They are simply dying to meet you.”

The two girls, who look to be around four years old, giggle and squeal with delight as Jaron swings them toward me.

I reach out and shake their tiny, upside-down hands. Which they find hysterically funny. Jaron slowly lowers them to the couch, resting under a window in their front room. The girls pop up off the couch and approach me on tiptoes. I squat down so I’m not towering over them. I stare into two sets of round, dark eyes and smile.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” I say. They share the same eyes as Jaron. Warm and deep brown.

“Wow, Jaron, she’s even prettier than you said.”

“Have you picked my brother yet?”

“And on that note…” Jaron rushes over and guides the girls out of the room by their shoulders.

“Sorry,” he says, coming back into the room.

I get to my feet. My face feels flushed. “They’re really cute,” I say.

“Until you have to live with them,” Jaron says, smiling. He reaches over and takes my hand. “And Olivia was right about one thing.”

“What’s that?” I ask.

“You really are too beautiful to describe.”

My previously flushed cheeks ignite into a burning blush. I look away from a mirror on the wall and away from Jaron’s eyes. I settle on staring at the doorway instead, where all the wonderful smells are wafting in from an unseen source.

Jaron pulls me through the doorway and into a formal dining room. Twinkling Christmas lights line the top of the walls and a beautiful dinner table is set with a silky tablecloth, fine china, long candles, and a small vase of flowers in the center. Jaron pulls out one of the chairs and offers me a seat.

“Thank you,” I say.

He walks around the table and takes the seat opposite me.

“It smells amazing in here,” I say.

“Good,” Jaron says, unfolding his cloth napkin and placing it in his lap. “I really hope you like it.”

I reach for my water glass and take a sip.

“Oh, here.” Jaron reaches into a metal ice bucket beside our table and pulls out some sparkling apple cider.

I laugh.

Jaron smiles and the cutest dimple appears in his left cheek. He pours a generous amount of cider into my champagne flute. “Now drink as much as you want,” he says. “I’m your designated driver tonight.” He winks at me before filling his own flute to the brim.

He then raises his glass and I follow suit. “Here’s to us and a fun night of getting to know each other.”

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