I shook my head and forced my feet forward.
He opened the passenger door for me and I climbed inside. I couldn’t help being reminded of my first date with Brett.
My heart raced in chest.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
I’d had a crush on Brett for longer than I’d care to admit and I’d been shocked when he asked me to go to the movies with him tonight.
At first I’d been excited, then scared, and finally I was just plain worried.
Worried about what to wear.
Worried about how to fix my hair.
Worried about what to do or say.
The last thing I wanted to do was make a fool of myself. I’d been on dates before, and kissed guys, but none of them were Brett.
They didn’t make my heart pound like he did.
Or a light sweat break out across my skin.
I took a deep breath and finished smoothing out the curls in my hair. I did my makeup, making sure not to do it too heavy. After all, we were going to the movies. This was meant to be casual and I didn’t want to get carried away.
“Stop freaking out, Rachael,” I scolded myself. “You’re being stupid.”
And I was. I’d known Brett my whole life, but a part of me felt like tonight was monumental—like my life might never be the same again.
I fluffed my hair one last time and went into my closet, trying on four different outfits before settling on a pair of skinny jeans, a flowered peplum top, and boots. It was nice, but not like I was trying too hard…I hoped.
“Rachael!” My mom yelled up the stairs. “Brett is here!”
My heart jolted with excitement.
I took my time going downstairs, not wanting to appear too eager.
I couldn’t help smiling when I saw Brett waiting for me in the foyer. His red hair was gelled back stylishly and he was dressed in jeans and a green polo shirt that made his eyes appear even greener. He grinned when he saw me and as his eyes perused my body I felt my cheeks heat.
I’d never been one to act so shy and girly before, but Brett made me nervous.
My mom and dad stood back a ways, watching us. Finally my dad cleared his throat and looked between the two of us. “Have her back by ten.”
“Daaaaad,” I whined. “I’m sixteen. I can stay out later than that!”
“Fine,” he sighed, scrubbing a hand over his beard, “eleven. But any later,” he warned, “and I’m calling the police.”
Brett chuckled. “Don’t worry, Mr. Wilder. I’ll have her back in time.”
My dad narrowed his eyes and made a grunting sound that said: I’ll believe it when I see it. I knew my dad was just messing with Brett, though.
“Come on,” Brett said to me, “we don’t want to be late for the movie.”
My body hummed when he put his hand on my waist, guiding me to the door. My insides were a jumbled mess of excitement.
We walked to his car in silence and he opened the door of his hand-me-down BMW for me to slip inside. “Thanks,” I smiled.
He smiled back. Once he was seated, he admitted, “I didn’t think you’d agree to go on a date with me.”