The Start of Time

Chapter 19

It takes the whole drive home to build up enough courage to walk into my own apartment without turning into a shaking mess. As it turns out, this wasn't Jordan's first altercation, and Declan's resources are just as good at uncovering things as Jordan's dad is at covering them up.

He tied up just about all of my worries with a couple of phone calls, so all I have to do is distract myself. After a two hour phone call with Kennedy, talking myself into balayage, thanking God that I should never have to see Jordan again, worrying that Declan will be the reason I never have to see Jordan again, cleaning my apartment, and trying to find an outfit for tonight, I'm finally staring into the mirror wondering who's staring back at me.

She looks like the same girl from yesterday, but the change I feel is as subtly dynamic as my new hair color. She's more aware of the world, but more afraid of it, too. Less trusting and more trusting all at once. Full of confidence yet questioning every small move, every random thought, every heartbeat.

Bzzz.

My reflection jumps when the phone buzzes against the counter. I answer without glancing down a second time.

"Hey," Declan gurgles with his toothbrush shoved in the side of his mouth.

"Surely you don't miss me already." The light illuminating his face is almost as bright as my entire bathroom. "I know you're not using a ring light to FaceTime me, you idiot."

"It's Chris's, and it makes it where I don't have to hold my phone, but I can hang up if you're going to be a bitch." He pouts playfully, finally glancing towards the phone.

"No, no. I'm sorry." I laugh.

"That's what I thought."

"Seriously though, did you need something?"

"Yeah, reservations are at 8, so I'll come pick you up around 7:30."

And by 7:30, he really means like 7:45 because he's never shown up to anything on time in his entire life.

"Okay. Quick question, though. You were just kidding, right? This isn't like dinner on a yacht fancy. I mean, all that stuff is nice. I just—. What are you wearing? Or better yet, what is Stella wearing? Does she know I'm coming? I know she's always super put together, but like how put together do I need to look?"

"You see, this is why I always just take you to get chicken nuggets or sushi."

"Ugh, you're no help!" I huff, rolling my eyes. "I'll figure something out. Go spend your hour fixing your hair. Bye."

"Wait, don't hang up!" He blurts.

"What?" I ask, analyzing the confused look on his face. It's as if he has something to say, he just doesn't know how to form the words.

He blinks slowly before shaking whatever lost thought he just suppressed. "I don't know. I'll see you tonight."

This time he actually presses end, and I immediately FaceTime Stella.

I've already vetoed her bright colored liner idea and instead settled for basic lashes and a neutral lipstick for the perfect semi-natural effect. She does, however, talk me into a black skirt and top set that's tighter than most things in my closet. The centimeter or so of midriff is enough to make me a little self-conscious, but at least it covers up the marks on my shoulder.

I simultaneously pull out the classic white sneakers and a pair of black strappy sandals.

Whether or not I look like the girl from yesterday is still up for debate, but there's not much time to think about it because Declan knocks on the door just as I'm putting my beige coat on.