Intertwined and Unexpected

Chapter 8: Chloe

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

"Stupid Emma... I told her I didn't want to talk!" I mutter under my breath, reaching for my buzzing lavender phone. 

"Hello?" I say into the phone, sharply. Hopefully she would take the hint and leave me alone! But the voice who answered on the other end wasn't Emma's. It was Amberlynn.

"Hey, Chloe." Her voice was gaurded, cautious of the risk she was taking. How dare she call me now? When I'm at home, sick, and furious at her. 

"What do you want, Lynn?" my finger hovered over the "end" button, telling myself I should hang up now. But for some reason, I resisted.

"Look, Chloe: don't snap at me, alright? I know I screwed up and I get that! I'm not some weak, blubbering idiot that you can toss around and you can't screw with my feelings! I already feel guilty enough about what happened so don't go making it any worse, ok?" 

I was surprised that she would talk to me after she humilated-- wait. Ok, I see her point. I am kind of playing the you-hurt-me-so-I-can-get-away-with-anything-I-want card. I bite my bottom lip, and reply,

"Fine. What did you call me for?" 

I can hear her exhale on the other end, probably relieved I wasn't even more angry because of what she just said. 

"I'll make this quick for both of us: you wanna go on a blind date or not?"

"What? Blind date? With WHO?" I sputter, surprised. I can hear her groan.

"Seriously, Chloe? Its called a blind date for a reason! Just say yes."

"Well, um," I think for a second: is this a trick? 

"Great! Tomorrow night, at 6:00 go to that Italian place down the street from the school!" 

"Hey, you can't do that! I never answered you!" I protest, frowning. 

"Chloe, lonely is a very dangerous thing to be. You're going." With that, she hung up.

Well then. I guess thats final. I'm going on a date. A blind date. 

Couldn't be more excited, I think as I puke my guts out into the trashcan. Yay.

"Well, well! The bear emerges from the den!" Mom comments, chuckling to herself as I drag myself into the kitchen.  "Ha, ha," I mutter unenthusiastically. At least I stopped puking."How's my trooper? Feeling well enough to go to school tomorrow?" Mom asks me, patting my back. 

"Um, yeah I guess so," my eyes shift nervously, "Mom? I uh, am going to hang out with a friend tomorrow so I won't be home until night. Is that alright?" It isn't a lie: I just didn't mention that it's technically a date, and the friend is a guy that maybe likes me. Maybe. 

"Sure, sweetie. Just make sure you're feeling fine." Mom turns around and starts cooking supper: spaghetti. My favorite.I turn away from the kitchen and back into my room.

As I walk down the hallway, the mirror on the wall catches my eye. In my reflection I see my ruffled bedhead hair, my dreary eyes, and my cracked lips. Does this secret blind date guy really like me? Would he still like me if he saw me now: ruffled and unprepared to be seen by anyone outside of my family?

Question: Would you rather

a) be pretty on the inside, but ugly on the outside or

b) be ugly on the inside, but pretty on the outside?

My Answer: Is it so impossible to be both pretty on the inside and the outside? Do I really want to answer that question truthfully? Did I really just answer a question with even more questions?