On The Run

Chapter Ten

The week passes quickly, until finally, it is Friday.

All day I am busy telling AJ what and what not to do, and I'm pretty sure that he is about ready to back out, but luckily for me, he doesn't.

Finally, after saying my goodbyes to Fiona, Mark, Ted, and David, the bus drops us off at our stop.

Grabbing AJ's arm, I look at him pleadingly.

"Dress nice. Like, tuxedo nice."

He raises an eyebrow, straightening an imaginary tie.

"What babe? You don't think I can dress nice?"

I don't reply, just smile before turning and heading toward my house.

Well. Tonight should be interesting.

•

I add an extra amount of blush, as Fiona giggles on the other end of the phone.

When my parents have "dinner" with someone, you'd think they had invited the president.

That's just how fancy and proper it was.

I roll my eyes as Fiona continues her giddy laughing fit. I'd just explained what had happened on Monday night in detail, since she had kind of freaked on me after finding out at lunch a few days ago that AJ had stayed the night.

She thought this was hysterical.

Fiona doesn't know my parents very well, but she knows well enough that AJ is about to get his butt lectured.

"Shush!" I whine, putting away my makeup and sighing as I walk over to the window.

There is a silence on the other end of the line, and then Fiona's voice.

"Well, I think I'm gonna go eat my own dinner. Good luck, Carly."

I groan as the line goes silent, and I hear the doorbell ring.

Well.

This is it.

Time to witness a horrific night at its very finest.

I swing open the door, and literally almost fall over from shock.

There stands AJ, actually wearing a tux, and tie.

Well, so far so good.

He crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow, still managing to pull off his usual bad boy look.

"Are you done checking me out, princess?"

I bring my eyes back up to his, and clear my throat, opening the door wider.

A flash of nervousness crosses his face as I respond, "Come in."

He rolls his eyes at this and steps past me, looking around our living room and nodding his head.

"Suits you," he mutters under his breath, before turning back to me.

I narrow my eyes and he crosses his arms, tapping his foot impatiently.

"Can we get this over with?"

"Can you stop being a jerk?" I retort snottily, and he holds up his hands in surrender.

"I'm the one who agreed to come remember?" I groan and walk past him, heels clicking on the floor.

As I walk by him, I lean toward him, and whisper into his ear with a smirk.

"Time to meet my parents."