That afternoon I walked home as fast as I could, eager for the afternoon to pass as quickly as possible until my date with Ashton. I walked into the apartment, humming a tune that I’d picked up earlier in the day.
My mother noticed my good mood straight away. "You seem pretty happy today," she observed, looking up from the book she was reading. I shrugged, but didn’t bother trying to hide my mood.
I usually wasn’t in the best of moods when I came home – I almost always went straight into my room after school and didn’t come out until dinner.
“What's making you so happy?" She laughed, watching me pour a glass of orange juice.
I grinned at her. "A boy asked me out today."
“Ah,” she sighed, getting the clue. “You like a boy.” I just grinned at her, because it wasn’t like I could argue. I did like a boy.
“Who is it?” She asked. Oh, God, I thought. Here it comes. Bracing myself for the game of 20 questions that was surely about to occur, I replied, “Ashton.”
I saw the recognition in her eyes and hoped she didn't decide I wasn't allowed to date the boy she'd hired to teach me math. Instead, she just smiled at me and said, "He's a nice boy."
"I know," I said, finding it difficult to stop smiling.
I tried – I tried really hard to focus on my chemistry homework, but it was pointless. With a sigh, I closed my book. I’ll just do double tomorrow night, I promised myself, but I knew that it was a promise I probably wouldn’t keep. I stared intently at the clock on the desk, as if that would help pass the time quicker.
I stood up from the desk to inspect Ashton’s drawing for what might have been the millionth time since he gave it to me. It never seemed to lose its beauty, which I considered quite a feat. Especially considering the picture was of me.
The rest of the time between then and Ashton's arrival disappeared way quicker than I had thought it would. I took a shower, and then spent so long trying to pick something to wear that I started to worry that Ashton would turn up and I’d still be standing there in only my bra and underwear.
Eventually I decided on a knee length dress I'd had for years and never seemed to grow out of and a pair of black ballet flats. I inspected myself in the full-length mirror behind my door.
I was a little disappointed with what I saw. The outfit looked fine and I shouldn't have been so surprised because it's not like I usually looked amazing, but I was sort of disappointed that I was going on my first date looking like I normally did - average.
I tried applying some makeup but I rarely wore makeup so I didn't really know how to put it on and ended up looking even worse than I did in the first place. I settled on a little bit of mascara and lip gloss and left my hair hanging limply around my face, since there was no time to do anything else with it.
I was carefully applying the lip gloss when dad knocked twice on the door and walked in.
“Hey,” I started to say, but he interrupted before I’d even gotten it out.
“And what are you all dressed up for?” He smiled at me in a way that told me he already knew. I told him anyway, just in case.
“I’m going out with Ashton soon.” He pretended to be surprised, but instead he just made it more obvious that mum had told him.
“You look amazing,” he told me, his voice turning serious in a way that made me uncomfortable. Dad and I had a joking relationship; I didn’t like it when we were serious.
