I looked at my watch; it was seven o' clock now. Not too long to go. I stared at my reflection in the mirror and couldn't help but flash myself a proud grin. I'd always been handy with makeup, and boy, was I working it tonight.
“Lookin' good girl, lookin' good!” I said to myself.
I had a few more touches to add, but there was no need to rush as there was still plenty of time before Everett was due to pick me up. I applied some more mascara; I had become quite an expert in the application of it over the years.
After I was finally done with my hair and makeup, a task that had taken me the best part of an hour, I just headed into the bathroom. I checked my watch and saw that it was 7:15; almost time to go, but at least I had gotten done with a few minutes to spare. I certainly didn't want to be tardy on our first date. As I sat down on the toilet, I heard the roar of a car screaming off down the road, and strangely enough, it sounded a lot like Everett's truck. That was weird, because nobody else on this street had a truck like his, so it was unlikely that it belonged to any of the neighbors. Perhaps it was just a visitor to one of the neighbors’.
Still, I pulled out my phone and checked to see if Everett had sent me any messages, as I was sure that he would let me know if something came up, especially at the last minute. There were no messages, except one that he had sent about an hour earlier. It said,
“Can't wait for tonight. See you soon.”
Well, it looked as if everything was still going according to plan. I finished up in the bathroom and headed out into the living room to watch a bit of TV while I waited the last few minutes before Everett would come and pick me up. On the way to the living room, I happened to pass by a full-length mirror, and I smiled as I caught my reflection. I was in a figure-hugging red dress, short enough to show off my curvy legs, but not so short to come off as being slutty. My black high heels accentuated the curve of my calves, and gave a nice boost to my height. I had straightened my hair, and it shimmered quite gloriously in the soft light, and the handbag I had chosen matched my outfit perfectly. All the effort had been worth it; I looked like a movie star, if I didn't say so myself.
I sat down and flicked on the tube, taking care not to crinkle my dress too much on the sofa. I flicked through the channels until I came to VH1, where they were showing a few clips of classic rock concerts from the 80’s. The live clip I happened to land on during the show was Journey's Don't Stop Believing, another one of my dad's favorites, but now, unlike the other day when I'd had to switch radio stations due to Sweet Child 'o Mine playing, now I actually left Don't Stop Believing on, and thought of my father with fondness.
“Ah, Dad,” I said, speaking to him, as I sometimes did. “You'd like Everett, I think. He’s your type of guy. I'm so sorry I didn't listen to your warnings when I first started dating Simon. You could see what kind of guy he truly was, and I should have paid more attention to your wisdom. I'm glad, at least, that you weren't around when things got bad between him and I. It would have hurt you so much to have seen what that maniac did to me. But now, Daddy, now I think you'd finally be happy with the guy I've chosen – the guy who has chosen me. Oh, just listen to me! I'm getting a bit ahead of myself here. We haven't even gone on the date yet. But you know, Daddy, I really do have a good feeling about this guy. Like I said, he s
eems like your kind of guy, even though he's not a musician. I bet he's into 80’s rock, though. I'll make sure I ask him about that later tonight. And me flipping through channels and randomly finding Don't Stop Believing, one of your favorite songs, it has to be a sign, right? I sure hope so... I miss you, Dad. I really do.”
As the song played out, I checked my watch again. It was now 7:32. Two minutes late; well, perhaps our watches were on slightly different times. No need to worry. Still, I did get up from the sofa and walk across to the window. I parted the curtain slightly and peered out at Everett's house. The lights were all still on, so I guessed that he was just doing some last-minute things to get ready. I sat down and continued to watch the show. The next song was Bon Jovi's Livin' On A Prayer. They were really hitting me with some good tunes tonight.
After the song was over, I checked my watch again. Now it was 7:37. Alright, you know, less than 10 minutes late, still not a big deal, but not what I expected from a high school principal whose job depended on him being punctual. I thought briefly about calling him but figured it might come across as being a bit demanding or overly eager, and I didn't want to give that sort of impression right off the bat.
The next song that came on was Metallica's One. This was a long song, and if he hadn't arrived by the time it was over, then I would know that something was up.
I sat through the song, trying to get into it, but I couldn't help feeling distracted. Where was he? Why hadn't he called? What was taking so long? Halfway through the song I got up and looked through the window again. All of his lights were still on, so he had to be in there. But what the heck was he doing that was taking so long? Had he lost track of time or something? Guys never take this long to get ready for dates, not like us girls do. This was starting to get weird.
I sat back down and watched the rest of the song, which had a long, extended finale due to it being a live performance at a huge concert. After this I checked my watch. It was now 7:50.
Alright, something was definitely up now. He couldn't have simply lost track of time, not for 20 minutes. I got out my phone and dialed his number. The phone rang for a while, and then it went to voicemail. What was going on? Was he in the shower or something?
Well, there was only one way to find out what was going on. I picked up my bag, headed out, and locked my front door. Perhaps there had been some sort of miscommunication. Maybe he had been waiting for me to come over the road to his place, although I was pretty damn sure he said he would pick me up.
I strode briskly across the road, trying not to feel too upset, and telling myself to be calm. After all, this was probably just some misunderstanding. I walked up to his front door and knocked on it.
“Everett?” I said loudly. “Hey, Everett, are you here?”
There was no reply from indoors. I knocked again and waited, but still, nobody replied. Now I had to try something different, so I turned the doorknob intending to just stick my head in. It opened. Alright, the house wasn't locked – he had to be inside. I walked in one step cautiously, not wanting to appear rude.
“Everett, hi, I'm here,” I said loudly. “Are you ready to go? I don't know if you noticed, but it's already 7:50.”
Still, there was no response.
“Everett?” I called out as I began to walk from room-to-room.
Silence.
Eventually I had been through the whole house, and there was no sign that anyone was home. A creeping feeling of disappointment and despair was now beginning to trickle down my spine, and I was really feeling pretty terrible about this. Now there was only one last thing to do, and that was to check if his truck was still in the garage. Maybe it had been him I had heard at around 7:15.
I walked briskly with purpose and more than a little anger in my stride, and as soon as I got to the garage, I threw the door open.
Disappointment and anger hit me like a ton of bricks as I saw that the truck was gone.
“I don't believe it,” I grumbled to myself. “I don't believe it! He stood me up! The jerk stood me up! Not even a word of warning! He just up and took off!”
I stormed back across the road to my house, wrapped up in a storm of negative emotions. I'd been so stupid, so naive to think that this guy was different. Of course, he had been too good to be true – guys like the type I had hoped he was simply didn't exist in this world, and I had been a fool to believe that they could.
I had gone to all this effort, taken all this time to make myself look pretty, and had allowed myself to get all excited about this – and now it wasn't even going to happen.