by Kim Holden
I can’t stand it any longer. I reach up and clamp his face between my hands and pull his mouth to mine. The kiss is urgent and not at all gentle. I’ve been waiting for this kiss since our first date, exactly thirteen days ago. Believe me, I’ve been keeping track. I dream every night about kissing him. Apparently the wait has been too long for him as well. His breathing increases to match my erratic pace. I cannot physically get close enough to him, though we are held tightly against each other.
“Perhaps we should go somewhere a little more private,” he says, pausing only long enough to get the words out quickly before his kisses fall on my neck below my ear.
“Perhaps,” is all I can manage before I pull his lips back to mine. My head is spinning. In the back of my mind I know I should be embarrassed to be behaving this way in a public parking lot, especially in front of my office. But I cannot come up with a single reason to stop.
Dimitri wraps his arms around me and squeezes me to the point that breathing becomes difficult before releasing me, reluctantly pulling his lips from mine.
I open my eyes to see his beautiful face only a few inches from mine. His cheeks are flushed and his smile is angelic.
“Don’t stop,” I whisper pathetically.
“Don’t tempt me,” he whispers as he kisses my forehead. “Can I take you to dinner tonight?”
It takes me a moment to realize that homework can wait until Sunday. I’m free for the first time in almost two weeks. “I’m starving, but you don’t need to buy me dinner. We can just go back to my house and eat there.”
“I insist. I haven’t had any proper time with you in far too long. I know you need to get up early for work. I promise not to keep you out too late. I just want to talk, just you and I. I miss you.” He rubs my upper arms as he speaks.
“I’ve missed you, too. Weird, huh? It’s hard to believe we met less than a month ago. I never thought I could miss someone I’d just met this much.”
He smiles his knowing smile and shakes his head. “Not so weird.”
“Will you follow me home so I can change my clothes?”
He opens my car door for me. “Of course. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”
He follows me home and entertains my mom and dad while I go downstairs to change. I hear them talking and laughing. It’s still strange to me how well they all got along. Aren’t teenage boys supposed to be scared of their girlfriend’s parents, to act awkward, at a loss for words? Not Dimitri.
He takes me to a quaint little Italian restaurant I didn’t even know existed. We share a plate of ravioli and a piece of tiramisu. I’m beginning to think he magically conjures up these places and they mysteriously disappear after we leave.
We walk out to his car holding hands. He’s swinging our hands back and forth. “Do you want me to take you home?” he asks politely.
I’m exhausted but I refuse to surrender. “No.”
He opens the passenger door and I climb in. I’m never going to get used to riding around in a Porsche. He shuts the door, walks around, and climbs in beside me. “I was hoping you would say that. What do you want to do then?”
“I don’t care. Any ideas?”
The mischievous grin emerges. “Oh, I have plenty of ideas.”
“Any PG-rated ideas?”
He laughs. “Yeah, lucky for you I have a one or two of those, too. How about some tea?”
We stop at a nearby coffee shop. I order a chai tea and sip it while we sit and talk. We’re so engrossed in conversation that we don’t realize that all the guests have left; the place is empty except for us, and it’s closing time. One of the employees walks to the front door near us and rudely flips the sign to “Closed.” We can take a hint.
Dimitri helps me with my jacket and holds the door for me to exit. Once we’re back in the car, we drive in silence back to my house, which is only about a mile away—not far enough to steal more time with him.
I sigh as he pulls into my driveway. I look at him and can see his gray eyes in the glow from the dash. He looks happy. “Thank you.”
He takes my hand in his. “You’re welcome, Ronnie.” After releasing my hand reluctantly he comes around and opens my door.
“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow night, then.” I say expectantly.
“Ten o’clock sharp.” He cradles the back of my head in his hand and gently pulls my forehead to his lips. The kiss is sweet and brief and leaves me wishing it had been on my lips. “Sleep well, baby. Good night.”
“Good night,” I whisper.
I watch him back down the drive before I go inside. I almost ache. It feels as if he’s taken a vital part of me with him. Tomorrow night will be too long to wait to see him again. I text him when I step in the back door. Only two words: “Miss you”.
My parents are already asleep, probably have been for hours, and the house is dark. I fumble my way downstairs to my room. I flip on the light to find a black dress lying out across my bed. It’s satiny, sleeveless, and short. I immediately love it. There’s a note beside it that reads, “Ronnie, I hope you like the dress. Love, Mom.”
My phone beeps less than a minute later. The text reads, “Miss you more.”
• • •
The next day at work passes by unbelievably fast. Saturdays are always busy, which is definitely a good thing today.
I drive straight to the school after work and am pleasantly surprised to see that Piper has recruited several more people to help with the decorations. (I don’t call her Pied Piper for nothing—the nickname has come to fruition.) Some of them, including Chloe Murphy, aren’t exactly people I would’ve chosen to spend a Saturday afternoon with, but they’re my ticket to getting out of here more quickly and that will give me a little extra time to get ready for my date with prince charming, even if I have to wait hours before he shows up.
Piper runs over and hugs me. “Veronica! Going awesome. Kicking ass. Out of here by six o’clock. Easy-peasy.” She’s talking extra fast this afternoon, so I focus extra hard to keep up. “No dinner reservations? Back at seven to sell tickets?”
Don’t get me wrong, I love Piper, but good God, communicating with this girl is like speaking Pig Latin sometimes. It keeps me on my toes though—it’s like mental gymnastics. You’ve got to be limber and on your game when you talk to the Pied Piper. “A whole hour to go home, shower, and get ready? Piper, why, how generous of you.” She ignores the sarcasm.
I hear a snicker behind me. I turn as Chloe walks by with Gretchen Wills. They’re a match made in heaven. Oh, did I say heaven? I meant hell.
“No dinner reservations, Veronica? Did I hear that right? I hope nothing’s wrong with Dimitri. Is he bored already?”
Piper starts to open her mouth, but by some miracle I beat her to the punch. “Save it Piper, she’s not worth.” Because she’s not worth it. Nor is she worth our time. I turn to steer Piper away.
Then I hear Chloe say, “That’s right. Take your crazy, psychotic friend and run away.”
I know I shouldn’t, but I have a general rule where my friends are concerned. No one, and I mean no one, makes fun of them when I’m around and gets away with it. I turn on my heel and with a sickeningly sweet voice I retort, “What’s that Chloe? Couldn’t find a date? Mmm, I’m sorry. No one left in the greater Denver area you haven’t screwed? Or screwed over?”
“I actually have a date—“
I cut her off. “Fascinating, but it was more of a rhetorical question.”
Hands on hips she faces up to me. “What?”
“It means I neither require nor desire a response.”
She huffs. “It won’t be long before Dimitri finds out he’s dating a little girl and wants to hook up with someone much more experienced.” Her mouth turns up into an evil smile.
I look to Piper, who I cannot believe has kept her mouth shut up to this point. I put on my best, over-exaggerated confused face and say, “Correct me if I’m wrong, Pied Piper, but I’m afraid this young trollop has confused ‘expe
rienced’ with ‘disease-ridden.’”
“You bitch! You’re just jealous!” There’s a vein throbbing in her neck. She’s pissed.
And I’m bored.
Whereas apparently my tiny but fearless amigo Piper is not. Her longstanding silence comes to an explosive end. “Jealous?! Shut the hell up! Get the eff out of this gym!”
Chloe’s voice is dripping with venom. “Piper, you’re such a freak. We’ll gladly leave just to get away from you two. Come on, Gretchen.”
Piper steps forward, her hands extended like she may strangle Chloe. “So help me God … stupid twat! Incorrigible bitch!”
I grab Piper’s arm and pull her back. “Bravo! Couldn’t have said it better myself. But don’t waste your time. Like I said, she’s not worth it.”
Chloe glares at me. “Have fun selling tickets tonight … by yourself.”
I curtsy dramatically. “The pleasure is all mine.” I promptly drag Piper across the gym away from them.
Her little body is trembling. “Hate her,” is all she can manage to squeak out.
“I know. The girl’s pure evil,” I say as we start unpacking the raffle prizes.
“Not evil. Effing Antichrist!”
“Is it just me? I’m confused … how do you think she hides her horns, Piper my dear?”
She tries not to smile. And then we break out into a fit of laughter.
Despite the unexpected excitement and loss of two workers, we still manage to finish up a few minutes before six o’clock, so I race home to shower and get ready. I curl my hair, put on my makeup, and slip into my dress all in record time before pausing to really look at myself in the mirror. The dress hugs every inch of my body and is very short, but I have to admit that though it makes me feel slightly uncomfortable, it also looks really good. I don’t feel pretty; I feel sexy. It’s like looking at a woman in the mirror for the first time—not a teenager. I pull my black heels out of a shoebox in the back of my closet. They’re five-inch heels and won’t completely give me the boost I need to look Dimitri in the eye, but it will be close. I put on a necklace and earrings and carefully walk upstairs. It’s been awhile since I’ve worn heels. My mom and dad are in the kitchen.
My dad’s eyes widen as soon as he sees me. “Holy sh—”
My mom spins around at warp speed. She giggles and claps her hands excitedly. “I knew it was going to fit like a glove. It. Looks. Awesome. Turn around.”
I turn around slowly, glancing cautiously at my dad out of the corner of my eye. His jaw has dropped … to the floor. The back of the dress dips dramatically from my shoulders to the small of my back, leaving a lot of skin exposed.
“Beautiful,” she says, clearly pleased with herself.
“The dress is great, Mom. Thank you so much.” I hug her quickly and kiss her on the cheek before turning to my dad.
He hugs me tightly. “You make sure Dimitri behaves himself tonight. I don’t know if we should let you out of the house looking like this. Jo, did you have to make it so short? Does everyone need to see her entire back? Where’s the rest of it?”
“It’s perfect. And Dimitri is a gentleman.” She smiles knowingly in my dad’s general direction, but her eyes never leave the dress.
Dad doesn’t look reassured. “Even so—”
I interrupt, because this could go on all night. “I have to go. I don’t know when I’ll be home. We’re going to dinner after the dance. Love you both.” I blow a kiss, grab my jacket and purse, and run out the back door to the garage.
• • •
Three hours never seemed so long. I try to enjoy myself and not focus on the fact that Dimitri will soon be here. No doubt he’ll look unreal in a suit. I can’t let my mind drift; it only makes time pass more slowly and exaggerates the torturous wait. Selling and taking tickets does provide me the rare opportunity to see everyone that comes through the door, so I keep my phone handy on the table next to me so I can take pictures of all of my friends as they pass through.
“Veronica, what’s up? How’d you get stuck selling tickets?” It’s Tate. He’s here with my friend Monica. They’ve just started dating, though Tate’s had a huge crush on her for years.
I laugh. “I pulled the short straw. It’s not so bad.” Thoughts of Dimitri surface and I glance at the clock on the wall. Nine o’clock—one more hour. I stand up and walk around the table to take their picture. “Where’s Teagan?” I ask. “I don’t even know who he’s bringing. I’ve been a little out of touch the past week or so.”
Tate laughs. “Teagan’s parking the car. He brought this girl, Liz. She goes to West Hills. I don’t think they’re having much fun, though. I’m honestly not sure why he asked her. It was kind of a last minute thing.”
I smile at Monica. “Monica, I love your dress.”
“Thanks. Your dress is amazing. Did your mom make it?”
I nod.
I hold up my phone and gesture them together. “Okay you two, smile.” I click off a few pictures.
When I pull the phone down I see Teagan. He’s walking through the door behind a girl I’ve never seen before. I can only assume this is his date. I know the look on his face—he’s thoroughly pissed. He’s looking down at the ground, shaking his head and mumbling to himself. Mumbling is never a good sign.
“Chauffer tonight, huh, Teag? Did you borrow your grandma’s minivan?” I try to lighten the mood.
He recognizes my voice and smiles, still looking at the floor. “So, now you’re a comedian, Veronica? Actually—” He looks up at me and stops mid-sentence. I can’t help but notice that his eyes quickly run from my face to my feet and back up—twice.
“Actually? Actually what?” I start to laugh. “You’re rolling in Larry’s Buick tonight, aren’t you?” Teagan’s dad, Larry, drives a thirty-year-old boat of a Buick. It’s in pretty good shape, but definitely an old man’s car. Teagan hates it.
Teagan’s face is blank. He laughs, but it doesn’t touch his eyes. He hasn’t heard a word I’ve just said and is still staring at my legs.
I look to his date as an escape. “Hi, I’m Veronica,” I say. “This goofball is my best friend. Do you mind if I take your picture with him?”
She smiles politely and says, “I’m Liz. And no offense, but I don’t think a picture is a good idea. I’m not sure this is a night that either one of us wants to remember.”
My eyes widen. “Oh. Okay.” I set my phone down on the table and walk back to take my seat behind the ticket table. Awkward.
More people come through the door at that exact moment—thank goodness—and I send Tate and Teagan on their merry way.
It’s busy between 9:15 and 9:45. It seems everyone’s waited until the last minute to show up. I look at the clock at least every 30 seconds.
At 9:55 the butterflies in my stomach start to awaken, and by 9:58 I’m practically shaking with anticipation.
At 10:00 the excitement peaks … but by 10:15 the fear sets in. I knew it was too good to be true.
I’ve just been stood up.
Maybe Chloe was right. Slowly sliding the chair back from the table I grab the zippered money pouch and walk over to Mr. White, one of the dance chaperones. He’s also in charge of the ticket money and I’m glad to get it out of my hands. I’m struggling with the lesser of two evils: should I put on a brave face and head into the dance to spend the rest of the night with my friends? Or do I surrender to defeat and just go home?
The disappointment must be evident on my face by the time I reach Mr. White. “What’s wrong, Veronica?” he asks.
I put on my bravest smile. “Nothing, Mr. White. It’s just been a really long day. I’m kind of tired.” I know immediately that it’s a pathetic attempt and doesn’t carry an ounce of conviction. So much for my valiant effort.
I turn before he can quiz me further and walk directly to the bathroom where I can steal a minute or two by myself to decide if I’m caving in and going home or staying here and toughing it out. If nothing else, I owe it to my mo
m to stay after she spent so much time on the dress.
The bathroom door opens just as I approach—and who should walk out but Chloe and Gretchen. They’re laughing, no doubt at someone’s expense. Probably mine.
Chloe stops and looks me up and down. “What a waste of a dress. I guess I was right. Dimitri must be bored with you already and found something better to do tonight than spend it with you. Maybe I’ll give him a call.”
My temper is usually fairly easy to control, especially with someone as inconsequential as Chloe, but she’s picked the wrong time to mess with me. I’ve gone from sad to pissed off in less than two seconds. Piper was right; she is the fucking Antichrist. Tears sting my eyes, angry tears, and I blink trying to fight them back. I don’t want to give her the satisfaction of seeing me cry. My hands tighten into fists, my fingernails digging into my palms. I’m just about to unleash my fury on her, to tell her in no uncertain terms exactly what she can do and exactly where she can go, when I hear a low whistle from somewhere behind me.
Chloe’s jaw drops. I turn to follow her gaze and see Dimitri walking toward me with Sebastian trailing not far behind. I’ve pictured him in my head for the past three hours; he’s drastically exceeded my expectations. The suit is classic; black and paired with a crisp white shirt and a dark gray tie that matches his eyes. He’s so, so beautiful. His eyes are wide and he’s wearing that mischievous grin.
Holding a pink lily in his left hand, he takes my right hand in his, kisses me on the cheek and whispers in my ear, “Ronnie, you look gorgeous.”
I’d blush if I hadn’t been boiling over with Chloe anger ten seconds ago. “Thanks. So do you.”
He raises his eyebrows and exhales looking me over. “Your mother is a damn genius.” He smiles and then blinks and shakes his head as if to focus his thoughts. “I’m sorry we’re running late. Pretty-boy here couldn’t decide what to wear.” He gestures with a sideways nod to Sebastian who smiles and shrugs innocently.
Chloe and Gretchen remain frozen in place, speechless. Dimitri ignores them and turns to lead me to the gym doors. I give Chloe the finger behind Dimitri’s back as we walk away. Sebastian chuckles quietly.