Heart Condition

Chapter Nineteen: Party Hard

Mom knocked on my door, “Honey?”

            I looked up, “Yeah?”

            She took one look at me, and I’m fairly certain she thought I was the Royal Princess of Genovia.

            “Oh Abbie, you look adorable.” She smiled, sitting down beside me.

            I shook my head, “It’s too much. He said t-shirt and jeans.” I stared in the mirror, my blue and white TomTop dress making me wonder if they’d be able to tell; this wasn’t a Carrot’s one-of-a-kind, and they’d know that in a second. Who was I kidding?

            Mom clicked her tongue, walked toward me and adjusted my bow “I think it’s lovely. Not too flashy, very comfortable. It might not scream ‘boutique chic’, but you’ll definitely last longer than most of the girls at that party; my money suggests their feet will be killing them if they wear anything more than a four-inch heel. Especially if there’s dancing at this party.”

            “Mother.” I sighed; it didn’t help that I was wearing a tank-top underneath the dress. Despite our little fling with the sundress, I still couldn’t help hiding the evidence of my surgery from the rest of the world.

            She helped with my hair; a loose braid, curling my grown-out bangs and framing my face the way I knew she liked.

            “So, Sasha.” She smiled, looking at me in the mirror, “He’s a sweetheart.”

            I rolled my eyes, “Mom.”

            She nudged me, “What? He is. He seems to really enjoy your company.”

            “Yeah.” I nodded, taking a shaky breath “He’s going through a weird transition right now, which I think is part of why he’s hanging out with me and the guys so much.”

            “Well, I’m sensing it’s a little more than that.” She raised her eyebrow.

            I shot her a look in the mirror, “What? What is it?”

            “Are you two being safe?” She asked, searching for a bobby pin. Where was this coming from?

            Narrowing my eyes, I questioned, “What are you thinking?”

            She smiled, “I may or may not have woken up in the middle of the night to check on you.”

            My jaw dropped. What. The. Shit. I shook my head, “Mom, nothing…”

            “I know.” She smirked, pulling one of my curls back, “Just be thankful it was me and not Daniel.”

            I promised, “It won’t happen again.”

            She scoffed, waving her hand “Believe me, it could be worse. You could be sneaking out in the middle of the night and running off to the Tenderloin to do heroin. You know how much I hate that you work in Nobb Hill.”

            “Mom.” I started, but she cut me off with her words.

            “Just be safe.” She amended, running her hands through the loose ends of my hair, “Did you have fun at the MoMA last week?”

            Sasha had asked for another date, so we went to the Museum of Modern Art and watched a screening of Fargo. I was so wrapped up in the movie that I didn’t even notice that I hadn’t let go of Sasha’s hand the entire time we were in the theatre.