"I'm supposed to go to a party, too."
"I’m going to a party, no idea if it's the same you are going to. Some guy from the soccer team is throwing it."
"I’m going to the same one."
"See you in a few hours, then." I attempt to pass by him when his hand grabs my wrist. It's a gentle move, but it stops me in my tracks nonetheless.
"I can finally make good on all my promises, Dani."
***
My mind plays his words over and over on my way back to the dorm, sending shivers of anticipation all over my body. This exceeds all of my expectations. Damon attends Stanford, no longer fights, and accepts help from his dad.
A grin the size of California blooms on my face when I enter our room. Predictably, Hazel opened more than half of the boxes already.
"What took you so long?"
"I had to wait in line. Then they took forever to explain everything to me. Oh, and I ran into Damon."
Hazel stops mid-stride, putting down the box she was carrying. "Shit, that was what I wanted to talk to you about."
"You knew?"
"I saw him on campus when I came to do some paperwork yesterday. How was it?"
"Good. Better than I expected." A fluttering feeling forms in my stomach as I remember our conversation, and I try not to get my hopes too high up...but who am I kidding? I’m practically drunk on hope and excitement. "He's meeting us at the party tonight."
"Meeting you, you mean. I'll make sure to disappear at the right moment."
"You will not do that. Let's get with unloading those boxes."
"Are you nuts? You have a date tonight."
"We didn't agree to it being a date—”
"I'm declaring it a date. Come on, let's get you ready."
"You already factored in a two-hour preparation time," I argue.
"Yeah, but that's before this was a date."
My preparation time strongly resembles a spa visit: peeling, moisturizing, shaving…everywhere. Then Hazel and I debate what kind of makeup we want. I decide on a smoky-eyes do. I saw it a few times on Jess, and it looked fabulous. Well, Jess is a wizard with all things makeup, so of course she made it look flawless. But my results, even though they lack Jess's touch of perfection, still look great. Hazel decides she wants a less ostentatious look, just a little pink eye shadow and mascara.
Another hour passes in which we do our hair. I look longingly at Hazel’s long tresses. Last year, I started the process of changing myself by cutting my hair very short, which I don’t regret, but styling your hair while it goes through all the awkward growth stages is a pain in the ass. Now it brushes my shoulders, and I can’t wait until it reaches elbow-length again.
"How was your semester-opening party in the fall?" I ask.
"Interesting. I met a bunch of people, but I'm glad you're here for this one," she says. This time, it's not Hazel who squeezes me in a tight hug; I hug her.
I decide to wear jeans and a fancy silk top, discarding the sexy dress Hazel’s mom bought for me as a present. In my rebel days, I would’ve worn it and hoped I didn’t look ridiculous. Maybe Jess infused some of her confidence in me while I lived with her in London, because I’m more comfortable in my own skin than I used to be. There is no point trying to pass off as someone else.
Chapter Twenty-Three: Dani
We meet up with a few friends of Hazel's. A group of three people, two guys and one girl, wait for us in front of the marble fountain where Damon and I talked today.
"I'm Kylie," the girl says, waving at me, the breeze blowing gently through her stark-red curls. It's obvious by the tan complexion of her skin that she's not a natural redhead, but the color suits her. Kylie shudders a bit. Her short black dress doesn’t provide much protection against the chilly night.
A hunky, dark-haired and gorgeous guy has his arm around Kylie's waist. "Drew. Hazel's told us lots about you."