16 year old Alyssa is a "good girl" who's madly inlove with her boyfriend Zach, a local dopeboy. Her mother believes she's too good for Zach and disapprove of their relationship and tries her hardest to keep the two teens apart. When Alyssa refuses...
"You look beautiful", Dom told me as he eyed my body up and down as I stood before him in my black satin Faviana gown. "To have you on my side...I must be the luckiest man alive."
I cleared my throat and smoothed out the bottom of my dress. "Thanks...you don't look too bad yourself."
And honestly, he didn't.
He was wearing a simple black and white Tom Ford Tuxedo with a pair of black leather loafers on his feet.
I locked my house up and we walked hand in hand outside to his car. He unlocked my door and helped me into the passenger's seat then walked around on his side and got into the car. He stuck the key in the ignition and we were on our way.
"Ya know", he took his eyes off the road and looked at me before quickly putting them back on the road again, "last time you visit my parents, my mother said she really liked your hair, you should have worn it like that tonight."
"What's wrong with my hair now?" I asked while staring out of my window watching the cars fly by.
He cleared his throat, loosening up his necktie a little as we approached a red light. "Well, nothing's wrong with it Lovely, the curls fit you beautifully. It's just—-my mother really loved the straight hair on you. I just thought maybe she would've appreciated it if you worn it like that tonight, you know, being that it is her night."
I turned away from the window and glared at him. "It's my hair Dominic", I said, annoyed, "if your mother likes straight hair so much why don't she straighten her own. How I choose to wear my hair is nobody business but mines."
He nodded his head in silence as his eyes followed the road. "You're right. I apologize."
"Apologize less and watch what you say more", I spat, turning my face back towards the window.
My words were met with silence...and that's how the rest of our ride was—-silent. It was an uncomfortable silence, as if Dom was too afraid to say anything else to me in fear that he'd say something that would piss me off again.
After an hour drive, he pulled up in the driveway of his father's beautiful brick and stone mansion.
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He turned down the soft Jazz music playing on his radio and we just sat there for awhile staring straight a head at the house in front of us. Finally, he looked at me and said, "I'll work on what I say."
"Thank you", I simply said.
He left his side of the car and went over to the passenger's side and opened the door for me. Taking his hand, we walked inside of the house with smiles on our faces as if we didn't just have a disagreement earlier.
