When I got home from school I was in a panic. I had never had a boy over at my house before, I wasn't even sure why he wanted to come in the first place.
Was this a date? Possibly. Or possibly not.
This could just be a casual relationship between friends just hanging out, nothing more.
"What are you going to wear?" Jessa said enthusiastically over the phone.
"Clothes." I said bluntly.
"Ha, funny. Seriously, Cassandra, this is your first date! At least dress nice."
"Nobody said it was a date." I hissed.
"Sure it's not."
"Whatever, I gotta go he'll be here in an hour."
"Alright, call me later and let me know how it went!"
"We'll see." I said before hanging up.
Honestly I had no clue what to wear. I wasn't even sure where we were going.
I rummaged through my closet finding something decent but not too comfortable, but also not too fancy either. I pulled out a pair of high waisted jean shorts and a white laced blouse, then slid on a pair of black vans. As for my hair, I just brushed it out normal without doing anything special to it. I usually wear my hair up considering it's so long, but right now I actually kind of liked it reaching down to my waist.
I usually don't wear makeup either, but maybe I could try it this once. I went in the bathroom across the hall and looked through my mother's things. I pulled out some mascara and an eyelash curler but that was all.
I looked in the mirror and right as I went to curl my lashes I accidentally pinched my eyelid.
"Shit!" I said as I rubbed my eye in pain.
I guess beauty really does hurt, ba dum tss. No? Okay.
Finally after many painful tries, I curled my lashes well enough and slipped on some mascara. For once in my life, I looked good. That's just my opinion though.
I looked at the clock, five forty-two, it read.
"Hey Mom? I'm going out in a couple minutes." I yelled to her from the bathroom.
"Where to?" She yelled back but lowered as I walked down the steps.
"Just going to hang out with a friend."
"Jessa?" She raised an eyebrow.
"No, another friend." I looked at the ground not wanting an interrogation.
Thankfully there was a knocking at the door just in time.
I ran to the door and opened it.
Hot. Damn.
Peter stood in the door frame wearing a pair of khaki shorts, a white t shirt with a soccer team logo on it that clinger to his body in just the right way, and a pair of black Nike shoes with black socks.
"Hey." He said in his calm tone of voice.
"Hey." I said back, trying to keep the chill too.
"You look great." Peter said as he eyed me up and down.
"You too." I smiled.
"Ready?"
I took Peter's arm and he walked me off the porch.
Just kidding. None of that actually happened, but that's what normally happens, right?
"Hey." Peter said calmly.
