Lighter

f i f t e e n

to keep warm, i'll bring a sweater
you can have mine, it looks b e t t e r . . .

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If you were to tell me I'd be nervous to hang out with a guy, nearly four years after my initial ruination with the males species, you'd be right. And not just any guy, but one that takes a liking to me. One that's trying so hard to break down my walls that I am not willing to let go of. Nervous wouldn't even be the right word to describe how I'd feel about it. That's too delicate of a word to use when it comes to me.

Now, if you were to tell me that my extroverted best friend would be nervous to hang out with a guy, I'd laugh. And this isn't just any guy – it's my other dimwitted best friend Tommy, for Christ's sake.

The weekend had arrived, and the day was here. Otherwise known as, the day Cheyenne, Tommy, Ronnie, and I were all hanging out. "Double-dating", as Tommy loves to refer to it, though both Cheyenne and I despise that term.

Whatever we called it, Cheyenne was still a wreck. She was running around my room in utter distress, like the makeup store was having a 100% off sale and she couldn't get her two hands on enough products. And as for me? I was perfectly fine lying in my bed, watching Cheyenne drive herself into hysteria.

"How are you, of all people, not freaking out right now?" Cheyenne breathlessly asked me, holding two different pairs of boots in front of her and trying to decide between them. They looked almost identical to me.

I shrugged. "Dunno. It's weird, but I'm living for it. Guess it hasn't hit me yet." She threw the shoes aside and let out a shrill, frustrated screech. I was laughing because of how amusing she was like this, and she just shot a deathly glare at me. "Chey, it's Tommy. You gotta chill."

"In case you haven't known me for the past, I don't know, sixteen years? I do not chill. Ever," she spat her words very clearly, her hands up and tightly pressing her index fingers and thumbs together as if to emphasize her point.

Figuring that there was no way to calm her down because I knew that much was true, I went back to my phone. We still had about an hour until Tommy was coming to get us, then supposedly we were going to Ronnie's house. Sure, I was kind of anxious to go to his house for the first time ever, but both of my best friends were going to be there with me. I think that had an effect on me and it might have been why I was so calm about tonight. I wasn't going to question it too much and just rejoice in feeling no bit of anxiety for now.

Cheyenne was finished with her makeup and was trying to put together an outfit, while I was still stretched out in my bed. Only now, I was watching TV instead of wasting my phone battery.

"Are you gonna change?" She spoke up from where she was seated on my floor.

"What?" I lifted an eyebrow.

"Your clothes. Are you going to change?" She asked again, and I looked down at myself for a few seconds.

A plain black long sleeve shirt I got for a ridiculous sale price at the mall, high rise skinny jeans, and socks. I was planning on wearing my chunky black boots to make the outfit a little nicer, since Cheyenne was having a heart attack over every detail of herself. Apparently, she didn't think it was nice enough.

"I don't think so," I said, shaking my head. She peered up at me, seeming unhappy with that answer. I scoffed in defense and sat up to gesture to myself. "What? The shirt is kind of tight and low-cut, these are my good jeans, and I'm wearing my favorite boots. What more do you want from me?"

She smirked, her discontent expression changing in seconds. "Nothing, I guess. Just trying to get you to realize how hot you are," she retorted. Overcome with embarrassment, I snatched a pillow from behind me and threw it, successfully hitting her. She tried to chuck it back at me, but missed as it landed on the complete opposite side of my bed, which ended with me laughing at her horrible aim.