Tourmaline

Chapter Nine

I have a present for you, lovely. Yes, you. A 3611 word present, to be exact. This took me all day so savor it. Sorry for the selectively overly descriptive paragraphs. 

Be free.

***

I stared at myself in the mirror, quietly evaluating my outfit. On me sat a snug black floral dress with skin-tight lacy sleeves stretching down to my wrists. Unsatisfied, I took it off. I put it back on again. I took it off. I threw on jeans and a purple sweatshirt. I took them off. I put the dress on over the jeans.

I couldn't win.

I read the Kit-Cat clock on my wall, its oscillating tail distracting me. 3:46PM.

I had a little more than a hour. Did I still have time to call him and cancel? Why was I so anxious about this? Outside, two inches of snow blanketed the ground. It began on Wednesday night, just like Laurie had said. Maybe Brent couldn't drive because of the weather?

He knows how to drive in the snow, stupid. He lives in Ohio.

My bedroom door suddenly swung open. Cornelius stood in the doorway, chewing on a stick of beef jerky. At the sight of my dress he scoffed.

"What, are you going to the Oscars?"

I struggled to pull the dress over my head. After untangling it from my hair thrice, I threw it on the floor in a floral polyester heap. "No."

"Going on a hot date, then?"

"Not really."

"Ugly date?"

"No."

"Well you're sure as hell not going to Laurie's in that. What's the occasion?"

"I'm collecting my Pulitzer Prize."

Cornelius finished off his beef jerky and strolled in, stretching out on my bed. He began to fumble with my phone, flipping it open and closed, scrolling through my contacts.

"Are you meeting...Tate? What kind of name is that?" He asked, gazing at my phone screen at what I assumed was Tate's number. I shook my head.

"Is it...Mark?"

"No."

"Is it male?"

"Yes."

"Is it...Brent?"

He's going to give you so much crap for this, I thought. "No."

"You can't hide the truth from me, you little pathological liar. I've been with you for seventeen years; I know when you're lying."

I kept silent, collecting the various clothing articles scattered on my floor and shoving them in my closet.

"Is Brent on Facebook? Twitter? Any other drastically overrated social media site?"

"I don't know. Just drop it." I turned around to face him. "Please don't tell Mom or Dad about this. I just got off the hook for leaving school midday, I don't want to screw things up any further."

Cornelius pretended to inspect his nails. "Fine. But you have to let me borrow your car again."

I laughed. "You're funny." His face remained blank. "God, you're serious. You just borrowed my car two days ago."

"Much like you, secretive sister, I have a date. And I don't have a car."

"I bought my car by myself. With my own money."