The Memories of White

November

Seventeen

Evera

I looked at myself again in the full body mirror, sighed and pulled yet another top over my head and tossed it on the ever growing pile of discarded clothes. Frustrated I marched back into my closet and scanned the shelves and hangers. Grabbing another couple of things, I walked back to the mirror and pulled the first thing over my head. It was a black top with a sequined and lace back. It looked proper from the front but the back was daring. Looking at myself again, I thought it was okay from the front, but turning around to look at myself over the shoulder, I realized it didn't go too well with the pants I'd chosen.

The pants were a pair of pale blue jeans that were quite low in the waist and the lace part of my top showed a bit more than I was comfortable with. This top was meant to go with high waisted pants. I pulled it off and grabbed the next thing, which happened to be a button up shirt. It was loose and flowy and I pulled it off immediately, it looked like a summer outfit paired with my jeans, and it was now November. Not exactly summer anymore.

The last top left on my bed was a soft, black cashmere shirt with three quarter sleeves. It was just loose enough to leave someone guessing about my curves, or lack thereof, but not baggy. I pulled it on and looked at the mirror. Yes, this was the one. I was comfortable. The fabric made it dressed up, without making it look like I'd tried. I glanced over at my clock and was horrified to see that it was almost 4:30 p.m. I'd have to leave in like ten minutes if I were to be there on time.

I ran into my bathroom and carefully applied my makeup. I accentuated my eyes and tried to make my skin look flawless. I love makeup, applied the right way it can do magic. I ran my fingers through my hair and worked some products into it, playing up the slight wave to the long tresses. My roots were hardly visible, I had finally managed to find a decent hairdresser not too far away, so they were newly done.

When I was as happy as I was going to be with my looks, I went back into my room and grabbed my leather jacket. I stuffed my keys, phone and wallet in the pockets and pulled it on. I wrapped a long, knitted scarf around my neck, and pulled on my black boots, the ones with the heels. No snow yet, so I tried to wear them whenever I had a chance. Lian was so much taller than me, so the extra inch or two helped a lot.

Heading towards the front door I shouted:

"Bye Dad, Maggie, Sam!"

"Bye Honey" my dad called back, "call me before you leave so I will know when to expect you home! Not all night, please."

"I will," I called back and opened the door.
Sam came up behind me and practically tackled me outside.

"Don't go," he pleaded, "watch movies with me!"
I crouched down to his level and gave him a hug.

"Not tonight Sammy Whammy, but tomorrow, I promise!"
I held out my pinkie and he took it and looked at me.

"Promise, promise?" he asked.

"Promise, promise" I answered.

"Bye!"
I gave him another hug, and watched as he turned and ran back into the kitchen.

As I walked to my car my tummy was filled with butterflies, and I had to take a couple of deep breaths to calm my pounding heart. Lian had sprung this on me at the beginning of the week, saying something like: "I want you to come have dinner at my house. I want you to meet my parents, but more importantly, I want them to meet you!". I had naturally panicked, dinner with my boyfriend's parents sounded scary. So here I was, Friday night, on my way to my first formal meeting with my first ever boyfriend's parents.