Through His Eyes

Through His Eyes [7]

{{Dedicated to @izzzyyyy123 for always leaving the loveliest comments}}                        

CHAPTER SEVEN

           

After inviting Floyd to what would surely be a night of cheap booze, shitty music and hormone-driven teenagers dry humping each other on the dancefloor and getting a positive answer from him within five minutes, Rhea peacefully devoured her ice cream, already getting excited in anticipation of Friday evening.

Admittedly, a high school party wasn't the ideal environment for her to be getting to know her potential –or at this point, straight-up– soulmate, but she was too much of a wuss to ask him out when she'd known him for a single day, and a social gathering such as a party gave her the perfect excuse to do it.

As she munched on the ice cream cone in her hand, Willa talked her ear off about the kind of outfit she should wear –it shouldn't be too revealing but it should totally make him do a double take when he sees you–, how they should do her hair –we should totally curl it, I'll bring over a curling iron–, and make up –smoky eyes, definitely–.  Rhea could tell her best friend was already getting into the idea of Floyd and Rhea together.

Then again, this was how she always got when a potential suitor –Willa's words, not Rhea's– for Rhea presented himself.  She'd get even more excited than Rhea, planning outfits for her dates, giving her a spare lipstick for when she went out on the date and anxiously waiting by the phone for details.

Unfortunately, all of her efforts had been fruitless so far.  No luck in finding a worthy specimen for Rhea.  Again, Willa's words.  However, Rhea had a feeling that that was about to change.

When she got home at around six, she found that her parents had already come back from work and that they were sitting on the living room couch, watching the news.

It was her father that first noticed her entering the living room, and as soon as he did, he laid a hand on her wife's thigh to alert her.  She instantly sat up when she realized why his husband was trying to get her attention, scooting to the edge of the sofa to inspect her daughter's face carefully.  Apparently, watching the news was a ruse; they were waiting for her.

 "Hey Mom, Dad," Rhea said, coming to sit on the plush, beige armchair, hoping to get the inquisition over with.  It was inevitable, really, so why fight it?

 "So?" her mother said, trying to suppress the delighted grin until it was confirmed by her daughter that everything had gone well.

"I met him," Rhea said, getting to the heart of the matter.  "He is cute and funny and absolutely charming."

Upon her words, her mother clasped her hands together and let out a squeal of delight, as if Rhea had told her she'd won a million dollars in the lottery.

Her mother was nothing like the mothers who'd lose it over the idea of their daughter snatching up a prosperous man with an impressive bank account, a mansion in Saint Tropez or a million dollar company.  She'd always been the "I don't care too much for money / money can't buy me love" type.  Yes, she was, and always had been, a romantic at heart so it was important for her that her daughter would be with someone worthy of her.

"I am so glad, honey," she said finally, getting up from her seat to give Rhea a hug.  For a moment or two she fought against the hug –as was obligatory for all teenagers–, but then she sunk into it.  In all honesty, her mother gave the best hugs into world; even Willa's hugs had nothing on hers.