Promises Made, Promises Broken - SYTYCW (Bad Reputation)

Present Day (Chapter Nineteen) Wednesday

Tucker

Don’t be mad.

I narrowed my eyes at Joey’s text.

I’m not mad, I typed back.

Liar.

First you take off on me, now you’re calling me names?

You’re punctuating your texts, he pointed out.

So?!

Do you always do that?

Only when I need to.

You mean when you’re mad?

I’M NOT MAD.

Then stop yelling at me.

What kind of guy just sleeps with a girl, then runs off? Quickly, I added sideways winking smiley face, then hit send.

What kind of guy calls too soon?

The kind that doesn’t love ‘em and leave ‘em.

Ouch. Is that still the kind of guy you think I am?

I pictured his green eyes, filled with mock hurt, and grinned. 

Maybe.

I want to make it up to you.

What kind of girl do you think I am?

Nothing like the kind I’m used to.

I paused.  Something about the words made a blush creep up from underneath my shirt, and I snuck a glance at Liandra.  She had her nose stuck in a magazine.

Let me make it up to you. Meet me in an hour.

An hour!

Please.

Fine.

“You can wipe that smug look off your face,” my roommate grumbled. “I can feel your happiness from all the way over here.”

***

Joey's three word text, sent in all caps, NOT QUITE FORMAL, had caused me to dress, undress, and dress again no less than three times. When I'd asked him directly where we were going, he'd told me it was a surprise.  When I'd wanted to know what kind of get together, he'd simply said shenanigans.  

The problem was that when he said NOT QUITE FORMAL, I didn't know where the emphasis was.  Did he mean it sarcastically? As it in it was going to be the exact opposite of anything formal?  Or did he mean it literally?  As in it very nearly was formal?

"Not quite formal," I muttered. "I should just stay home."

I applied a thin coat of shiny gloss to my lips.  Truthfully, I felt the need to prove that I was fine with him ignoring me for a whole day.  And if dolling myself up and going out with him was what I had to do, then it's what I would do.

Liandra walked in as I was on my way out, and grinned as she eyed me up and down.

“Oh, man,” she said, "He is going to suffer."

"I just want to look nice."

"Uh huh. If you just wanted to look nice, you’d wear the dress he sent."

I pretended the thought hadn’t crossed my mind. “I’m not keeping that.”

“Uh huh,” Liandra said again.