Romance in Italy

Romance in Italy - 11

 Eleven.

“I can't find my socks!” Ashton called from the closet, his voice was muffled by thick sections of wall between us.

I rolled my eyes, and straightened another thick strand of hair. Usually, I would curl my hair but tonight, I wanted to try something different. It was my first date in...no, it's my first date. Period. God, I'm so lame. I'm a seventeen, a senior, and I've never been on a date until now. “Did you check the dresser? Second drawer?” I paused in the midst of applying a coat of gloss, waiting for his affirmative reply. I've been trying to multitask. I had taken a nap a few hours earlier, meant to wake up at three-thirty but someone had deactivated the alarm and I overslept. Max was coming to pick me up at six and two and a half hour was not enough time to shower, get dress, and hair and make-up. I had a suspicion that it was Ashton who had turned off the alarm and when I awoke, freaked out, he had asked me did I sleep well. I knew it was him. It was just like his nature too. Sabatoging my date. I'd like to blame it on the fact that he's jealous but I knew that that wasn't it. He had a date. And that alone proved to me that he was absolutely not jealous.

“Found them!” He yelled back and I heard some more shuffling.

I nodded and picked up the straightener again. After a few more stroke, I turned off the device and glanced at my reflection in the mirror. My hair was straight, flowing down to the middle of my back. I didn't want to do anything fancy so I just pinned my parted bangs back with two bobby pins. My make-up was soft and light; with a bit of lipgloss and rosy blush. After a few swipes of mascara, I walked over to the bed and inspected my outfit. The weather was suppose to be nice and sunny outside so I narrowed down my choices to a white sundress, cutoffs and a tanktop with a billowy white cardigan, and skinny jeans and a graphic tee with Converse. After some hard thinking, I decided to go with the cutoffs and tanktop. I had asked Ashton for his approval since he was my chaperone after all. That was something I won't do...ever again. That guy was just horrible in the woman's department. I'm sorry but he had originally chosen a turtleneck and sweat pants, saying it was in trend.

I threw on the outfit and slid my fingers through my hair, teasing it a bit so it has volume. Ashton emerged wearing a white button-down shirt, jeans, and a plaid hoodie. I blanched and made a face, grumbling, “How do you dress yourself?”

“How do I look?” He asked, striking a pose.

Bile rose up my throat. He may be adorable, handsome, cute, sexy...I'm getting offtrack here. Anyways, he had horrible fashion choices. If Dani was here, she would go berserk. Just the mention of my best friend knocked some sense into my head because I was really looking forward to my date with Max. And then I had to remind myself that it. Was. Not. A. Date.

I got up and yanked his hoodie off, throwing it on the bed. He glanced at it wistfully, “Too much?”

“It was just wrong.” I told him simply. Then I inspected his hair and my face scrunched up. I reached up and glide my fingers through his gelled locks, mussing it so that it didn't look so...carefully styled. Which I knew it had been because he jumped back from me. I gave him a look and pulled him closer, mumbling under my breath. He really had no fashion sense. After his hair, I gave him a once-over and threw my hands up in the air. “Is this a formal or casual date?” I asked him.

“Casual.” He replied.

“Then why are you wearing a button-down shirt? And with a hoodie too? C'mon!” I cried, exasperated. I stormed into the closet, shifting through his clothes until I found a plain white muscle shirt. I yanked it off its hanger and flung it at him. “Change. Now.” Scouring around, I found a plaid button-down shirt and told him to wear that over the white muscle shirt, unbutton, of course.