I Used To Be

Chapter 9 Part 9

Several hours later, I ignored the growling in my stomach as I was flinging one garment after another from the closet to the bed. Of course a date was an occasion to skip dinner. Plus I'd had those unplanned latte calories. Sixty calories to be exact, if I had in fact had exactly half the latte. Maybe I should count it as 70. Just in case.

I didn't want to look too slutty, but I wanted something that also accentuated my proudest new asset: my visible hipbones. So that called for a skirt that was a little clingy, but not too short. And maybe a long-sleeved top that was also a little fitting. Sometimes, if I moved right, you could even see ribs through certain shirts.

I decided on a black pencil skirt that ended just above the knees, and a red ¾ sleeve sweater. That was before I looked in the mirror. I looked like I was going to church, not to the movies. I forwent the hipbones and put on jeans instead. Most of my jeans didn't fit anymore, but I had a size 2 that was on the small side that still wasn't too baggy. I made a mental note to go to a store and try on some zeroes. Maybe even tomorrow.

Cash was late of course. But not too much. I saw headlights in the driveway at 6:37. I didn't want to seem to eager, but if I waited, he might come to the door and that would interest my parents. I had told Mom I was going out with "friends" that night, but not on a date. And of course I told her we were getting dinner, so that took care of that problem.

How did I not know Cash drove a beamer? A lot of kids at my school had parents who drove expensive cars, but if you got your kid one, that was like a whole new level of rich. His skater-boy-same-clothes-every-day look was definitely an affect. I knew that, but damn. For some reason, his car made me nervous. Like I knew even less about how to act around someone with that kind of money. Nevermind that he was seeing that basically I lived in a comparative slum.

I got in the passenger side, almost afraid to touch a car that was worth more than . . . well I didn't even know what it was worth actually, that's how much it was worth and how out of my realm of experience it was.

"Hey," Cash said brightly. This side of him was freaking me out. I kind of missed the cool boy who didn't care. I didn't like knowing that he liked me, that he was excited to see me. I was still trying to conjure excitement. I felt like I owed it to my past self, my 12-year-old self that would just fantasize constantly about him even looking at me. She was looking at me right now, horrified, that I didn't really want this. I owed it to her. I owed it to me. I looked at him and smiled.

"Hey," I said. Should I compliment him on his car? I decided not to; that would really put our class difference front and center. I mean, it already was, with his car sitting in the driveway with our modest little Fords and Toyotas. I remember when I used to think Toyotas and Hondas were like super nice cars. Like yesterday I thought that.

"So, are you psyched for Zombie Apocalypse? It actually got okay reviews on Rotten Tomatoes surprisingly enough."

"Oh really? That's cool. Yeah, I need some blood and guts in my life right now, for sure." Okay Anna, so you might not be as excited as you should be about this date, but you could at least try to avoid sounding like a complete psycho freak!

"Haha, I hear ya. What, is the ballet world as bad as they say it is?" How would he even know about that? The more I got to know this guy, the more I thought he might have much more of a clue about a lot of things than I had ever given him credit for.

"Well, no; I mean, Black Swan really gave us all a bad name," I paused. Should I tell him I had an audition today? Did I want to let him into my life even that much? "Today was just a little stressful. They're picking parts for the Nutcracker." There. That was plenty. Too much, probably.