Justice

Ch. 3

I spent the next few weeks getting closer to Isabelle, and avoiding Ethan at all costs.

I didn't want to repeat history.

One particular Wednesday, I was feeling bold. I approached Isabelle at her locker.

"Hola, amigo," she said, upon seeing me.

"Hey." Wow. That was a lame response.

"What's up?"

"Other than the sky," she rolled her eyes at that, "I wanted to ask you something."

She looked up at me in curiosity. "Sure."

"Well, I was wondering, you know, m-maybe if you weren't doing anything this weekend, we could, uh... we could-"

"I'd love to, Justice."

"You would?"

She giggled. "Of course I would."

On the inside, I was giddy with excitement. I'd never had the confidence to ask a girl out before, so I spent my 18 years of life without having my first kiss, or my first anything.

But something about Isabelle made me feel like I could ask her and not get totally rejected.

So that's why I did.

And lucky for me, she said yes.

"How does S-Saturday sound? At five, maybe?"

She smiled. "Sounds like a date."

I spent the rest of the week flirting with Isabelle and panicking over our date.

By Saturday, I was completely freaking out.

My mom overheard my meltdown and came to the rescue.

She got an outfit for me, gave me a bit of extra money, and said some words of encouragement.

"Honey," she grabbed me by the shoulders. "She will absolutely love you, and for who you are. Not for what you try to be. So be yourself. If she doesn't like you for you, then she's not worth it. Okay?"

I gave a small smile. "Okay. Thanks, mom."

I have her a peck on the cheek and left.

At Isabelle's doorstep, I was starting to panic again. But I remembered what my mother said, and I took a few deep breaths.

When I rang the doorbell, a woman answered the door. If I wasn't paying attention, I would've thought she was Isabelle.

"Hi there! You must be Justice," she cooed. She stuck out a hand. "I'm Isabelle's mother."

I shook her hand politely. "It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Darby."

"Oh please, call me Christine," she beamed.

"You can call me Mr. Darby," bellowed Isabelle's father as he appeared in the doorway.

"Oh, Paul." She shooed him away. "Come on in, sweetheart." She led me into the house, which was more like a mansion.

The ceiling was very tall, and a grand staircase led upstairs. I stood awkwardly in the front sitting room. "I'm sure she'll be right downstairs, you know how long girls take to get ready," she joked.

I smiled. "Right."

She left and Isabelle's little brother came in. His hair was the color of sand, more like their father. He looked almost exactly like his father, too.

He looked me up and down and said, "You taking my sister out?"

I nodded. "Yup."

He narrowed his eyes. "I'm Noah."