Afterglow ❃ l.m.j

• chapter thirty six •

Once I returned to Fresno, my work mode was back into effect. All of my focus went into preparing my outfit and my routine, so much so that I was living off of tortilla chips and water until 5 PM. Or at least that's when I noticed that hours went by and I hadn't eaten. I clicked on my phone to see a missed call and a text message. I stuffed another chip in my mouth, licking my lips at the saltiness. I put in my password to see the message and the missed call in full. They both were from Normani. Her message was sent over an hour ago.

Are you home?

I flipped onto my stomach, the bag crinkling as I grabbed another chip. I used my other hand to send a reply back.

I'm sorry, I'm just seeing this! Yes, I'm home. What's up?

A few minutes passed before she started typing again. A new message appeared on my screen.

Cool. Drop your location, I'm coming to pick you up. I wanna take you somewhere.

My eyes bulged out of my head as half a tortilla chip broke between my teeth. "What?" I exclaimed out loud, crumbs dropping from my mouth. I looked down in disgust, swiping them from my periphery.

I typed the coolest response that I could think to send back. One that totally didn't show me internally panicking. Was this a date? Why was I so worried about this being a date? Ever since I thought about it the other day, now I couldn't help overthink our every interaction. Not that I didn't want that. But what if she didn't? Then I'd be getting myself all worked up over nothing. Maybe it was better if I just pretended nothing was happening and just went with the flow. The same way I have been. I mean, it's been working so far.

Where are we going?

The chat bubbles appeared, then disappeared. Appeared again.

It's a surprise.

Assuming she was on her way, I stood to my feet. She didn't live too far from me which meant I'd have to get dressed asap. I wiped my hands on my sweats and dropped my hair from its bun. My fingers were catching on tangles when I tried to run my hands through it so I grabbed my brush instead. Fuck, what do I wear? I still had to jump in the shower. God, I'm a mess. I have to hurry up.

I did my best to rush, jumping in the shower, brushing my teeth again, working my brush through my hair, all while trying to debate on an outfit. When nothing in my brain satisfied me for the moment, I shot her another text. I saw hers first.

Fifteen minutes away.

Fuck.

I typed back, practically chewing on my bottom lip. Wait, how should I dress?

Her reply was instant. Casual.

Casual? What does that mean? There's like eight different types of casual, business casual, coffee shop casual, 'getting proposed to and you totally don't know it' casual. I was in my head practically losing it when my phone buzzed again.

Don't overthink it. Just wear something you wouldn't mind getting ruined.

I made a face at her text, trying to rack my brain for outfits while simultaneously wondering where the hell we could be going that my outfit would get ruined. God, please don't say something like painting. I hate painting.