Saving Amaya

Chapter 20

All of my friends are downstairs waiting for me.

Sam, Hannah, and Claire spent the whole day getting ready with me. We got our nails done, did eachothers hair and makeup, and spent the whole time hanging out. It felt nice pampering ourselves knowing that this will be the only school dance that we will go to. All those cheesy highschool girl bucket list items are surprisingly fun.

Now I'm standing in front of my mirror while everyone thinks that I am grabbing my clutch. In reality, I don't recognize myself. I don't recognize the perfectly styled bun that pulls my freshly dyed purple hair back. I don't recognize the shape of my body, every inch hugged by the sleek black fabric of the dress. I don't recognize the full glam makeup that coats my face. I don't recognize the light in my eyes.

I'm excited, nervous, and honestly a little distant. Like this is all a dream and there's no way that my life could ever be like this. So light and happy.

My eyes scan over my every feature countless times, ensuring that my appearance is acceptable. Because I'm not just going to a school dance. I'm going with Blake. The guy that I might possibly have a crush on.

"Get it together." My brown eyes meet in the mirror, the color dull and lifeless, but mine nonetheless.

With a deep encouraging breath, I steel my nerves to face the man waiting for me downstairs. I wore heels, which I don't do often as a taller girl, which significantly slows my descent of the stairs. The moment is almost like those old 80s rom coms where the nerd makes that impossibly slow walk down the stairs while everyone watches her, because for the first time in her insignificant life she finally is attractive. Maybe the hot guy slowly turns towards her and realizes that behind her comically large glasses and dorky clothes, she is beautiful.

Except that's not me. I'm not magically pretty. I'm just me in a dress.

That doesn't stop the butterflies that flutter when my eyes meet Blake's for the first time. I know that I'm not the main girl in the 80s movie, but I swear for a second that time does slow. I could almost convince myself that Blake's breath hitches when he sees me.

"Damn bitch! I wish you were my date!" Sam whistles at me as I finally make it down the stairs. The girls laughed with me as I pulled my friend close and pretended to plant a kiss on her cheek.

"I thought you would never ask!" I thread my arm through hers and we walk into the living room.

Blake grabs my elbow and pulls me back. The girls follow to the porch where we will take some prom pictures.

"You look really good, Princess." Blake holds me close and whispers in my ear so only I can hear him. The warmth of his hand seeps through the long sleeves of my dress, calming me instantly.

I want to believe him. Why can't I believe him?

Still, I smile, a perfect demure smile. "You look pretty good yourself." And he does. Blake's suit is perfectly fitted, stretching across his broad chest and hugging his figure well. The simple black coat and white shirt may seem a little formal, but the open buttons of his collar make him look good. Like really good.

After tonight, this false pretense that our fucked up relationship isn't complicated at all will disappear. But right now, I'm pretending that it's real. In my head, I'm just a normal girl who didn't have a life altering mental crisis and Blake is a normal guy who didn't just get kicked out of his own house because he wants to hang out with me.

I'm like a messed up Cinderella. At the stroke of midnight the spell will wear off and instead of being a pretty, normal girl with a simple crush I'll go back to being me. So I better make tonight worth it.