|Tori|
December in California doesn't promise the same weather as the rest of the States - while the north and much of the east is slathered in snow, we're lucky if it drops anywhere below sixty during the 'winter' months. At the most, I have to grab a light jacket, like the one I'm wearing now. It's plain black and simple, the silver zipper tugged about half way down so the buttons of my dark blue blouse can be seen. But despite both the jacket and the fact that the breeze currently washing against my face isn't even considered chilly, I have goosebumps crawling like ants over my flesh.
Rubbing them, I rest my hip against the my car and sigh. Wind weaves through my hair - I put it up for the occasion, the upper half pulled into a tight bun at the back of my head while the rest twirls down my shoulders in helixes. I also slaved in front of the mirror for an hour and a half with make-up brushes and other appearance enhancing tools before leaving my house, only to stall in front of my car with my keys gripped in my hand. I can feel the skin of my palm digging into the sharp edges and I know that if I were to squeeze a little harder, I'd probably bleed, maybe slice an artery, and then I'd have an excuse to not go to this dinner tonight and I could avoid the entire situation.
My lips droop with a frown. That would be a good plan if Jade didn't know so much about human anatomy (which I blame entirely on the days she spent at the Human Body as a child) and if getting a paper cut wasn't enough to make me tear up and whine.
It also doesn't help matters at all that I was the one who suggested this dinner, who wanted it, who pushed Jade to make it happen, so all of this unease is my fault and I've got no one to blame. It's not that I want to back out or that I don't want to get this whole thing with Jade's mom over with, because I do. I want to sit down and talk to her. I want to try and get her to like me, or at least tolerate me, so my relationship doesn't feel so strained on Jade's end. I don't want Jade to feel like I'm making her connection with her mother that much more impossible.
I know Jade doesn't blame me for any of this. Her and her mother were already on bad terms long before I came into the picture. But that doesn't change the fact that I'm doing nothing but widening the gap. Before, they were at a cease fire. The relationship definitely wasn't healthy, but since there was no communication whatsoever, no one was getting hurt. But now that I've stepped into the picture and upset the already fragile balance, they're at war again.
It's my fault, and I have to at least try and fix it.
Sucking in a breath, I unlock my car and slide in. My phone announces the arrival of a text message with a jingle. I open the message while turning on my car.
Jade West
The monster's not here yet. Food's getting cold though, so get here asap.
I try to relax as I reply with both a smiley and an exclamation point that I'm not necessarily feeling. Pulling out of my driveway, I start toward Jade's house, knuckles popping as my fingers curl around the steering wheel. It's probably stupid, but Jade's mom terrifies me. Having only met her once, I can still recall every detail of her icy expression, how eerily similar it was to the way Jade's used to be. Even imagining her cold eyes on me again, now with an actual reason to hate me, makes the goosebumps on my arms feel like they're never going to go away.
Too soon I'm in Jade's driveway. I busy myself with checking my black dress pants and my blouse for lint or fallen hairs, reapplying my lip gloss in the mirror, adding another squirt of perfume just under my neck, and making sure I didn't forget to put deodorant on before I left the house. Out of excuses, I drag myself out of the car, purse slung over my shoulder, and take careful, even steps to Jade's looming front door. It opens before I get there, one foot on the front porch step and the other still on the ground, frozen in place as Jade is revealed inch by inch. She's in a dress; the bottom half is black and straight, hugging her white thighs so tightly I would have sworn she had painted it on. The top is almost the same shade of blue as my blouse, the deep V of the cut framing the necklace I bought her for our anniversary. The blades are pushed shut, the tip of them resting just above the cleft of her breasts. If that wasn't enough to blow my brains out of my ears, Jade's face is heavily accented by the way her hair is pulled back - a straight, simple ponytail, her face round and completely exposed, making her cheekbones look sharper than ever and her eyes bigger, greener.
