We ended the night at the park, walking through the twinkling lights strung among the trees.
It was a quiet night.
Romantic.
He kissed me beneath the lights like I was his center.
And I indulged.
It’s been a busy week for him at work, and I’ve been swamped with Jacob, work, and house chores.
Dax has only stayed over a couple nights.
These last few days without him have proven that my life is better with him in it, even if it means I only see him at night.
Even if it means missed brunches and late-night dinners.
Because I’m crazy about Dax. Jacob and I both are.
I get dressed with more vigor, my insides fluttering. I switch the curling iron on, then pull my makeup bag out from the drawer. Before I start, I text Sienna to come over—I’m definitely going to need help.
She responds immediately that she’s here already, and when I hear her heels clicking up the stairs, I call out, “How’d you get in?”
“With my key.” She enters my bathroom, holding a key up.
“I never gave you one.”
“Sure you did. You wanted me to have it for emergencies like this one.”
I shake my head. “That never happened.”
“Okay, so I borrowed your spare the first time I was here.”
“You stole a key to my house?”
“If you want to get technical, but do we have time for this? Because it’s after six, and we have work to do.”
I smile as she plays music on her phone, saying we need to set the proper mood. Then, she rummages through the bag she brought and finds a clip, which she uses to pin my hair back.
“I feel like the people probably do before I photograph them.”
“It’s about time you’re on this side of things.” I watch her in the mirror as she draws lines on my face. “You have gorgeous cheekbones, and I know just the right thing to do to highlight them.”
“I don’t want anything too dark or gaudy. A natural style is more than fine.”
“Do you trust me?”
“Umm…”
“You bitch. In all the time you’ve known me, when have I let you down?”
“You just admitted you stole my key.”
She laughs easily, and I wish I had her confidence, something I never would’ve thought I’d say when I first met her.
She blends in the different shades of lines she drew on my face as she says, “Okay, you can’t trust me about most things, but when it comes to fashion and makeup, I’ll never let you down. That’s my promise to you. My sisterhood of the traveling pants pact.”
Her lips pucker as if of their own accord, and her expression is so serious my eye twitches.
“Don’t move,” she orders.
“I’m sorry, but it looks like you’re getting ready to perform surgery instead of do my makeup.”
She sits back to inspect her work, then grins, a glimmer in her eye. “Makeup saves lives just the same.”
“Whatever you say.”
“Fuck yeah.” She blows on a small brush, then gets to work on my eyes. After a few quick strokes across my eyelids, I blink as she gets a pink tube out.
“Oh, I don’t use waterproof mascara—”
She holds her free hand up. “You’ll be glad you did.”
I don’t ask any questions—it’s my attempt at trusting her.
We easily pass the time with our chatter and soft music in the background. She tells me about her plans once she moves out of Sunnyville. She’s been talking about moving back to LA, and she mentions it again now. It’s the same conversation we’ve had for months.
She was only supposed to be here for two, but here she still is, over five months later.
“Why don’t you just stay?”
She blinks at me like I’m speaking a foreign language. “Stay in Sunnyville permanently?”
I shrug. “You could buy the house you’re in instead of renting. Renting is just money down the drain, anyway. You love working for Lauren at her boutique. Why don’t you open your own? You could build a life for yourself. No following your friends to Bali for a spiritual retreat that turns out to be an expensive excuse to drink heavily.”
I glare at her, recalling how she spent the first week of December.
“That’s fair,” she says, her eyebrows shooting upward. “But I can’t stay in Sunnyville. Seriously, I need my old life back.”
“Do you?” I stop her and pull her hands in mine. “Or are you happier here than you were in LA?”
“It is easier to get around here. LA traffic is a bitch.”
“Yet another reason to stay.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Will you?”
“I will.” She rolls her eyes, then picks up the curling iron. “Now hold still so I don’t burn you.”
I straighten my back and remain perfectly still while she gets to work. When she’s done, she brushes out the curls to make waves, then empties half a can of hairspray on my hair. “I think that’s enough.”
“I just want it to hold. It’s windy out there.”
“I wonder where I’m going.” I pick up my phone, but there’s no text with an address yet.
“You don’t even know where Dax is taking you?”
“No. He just told me to wear the purple dress and to pick Jacob up at eight.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.” She talks like she’s not interested in the conversation. Like I’m talking about Jacob’s report card.
Or she’s pretending not to know.
“What’re you not telling me?”
“Nothing.” Her eyes widen. “Where is he picking you up?”
Just as she asks, I get a text from Dax with an address. “The high school.”
“Your date is at a high school?” She scrunches her face like she does when she takes out the trash.
“It’s where Dax and I went to school.”
“So, this is like a nostalgic thing? I don’t get it.”
“I need to go.” I check myself in the mirror, thankful Sienna came by. She worked her magic, and I can’t wait for Dax to see me like this. “Thanks again for your help. I’ll bake you the best fat-free, gluten-free, tasteless muffins ever and bring them over tomorrow.”
“Okay, and make sure they
