Waiting on You

Chapter 10

"Now, don't kill me," Tucker had his hands in front of him, as if it would protect him from what was about to come. "But I ate your cookie."

I was sitting on my bed, reading my book when Tucker had come in from downstairs, a guilty look on his face.

I shrug. "That's okay. There were like ten in there."

He looks down at his toes. "Well, about that... It was actually the last one. The box was practically empty."

We are silent for a second, and I then the tension starts to grow thick between us. "What? There was one left... And you ate it?" I stare at him.

I throw my book across the room at him and it hits his stomach. It bounces off of him, but I only wonder for a second if he is actually hurt. I sit up on my bed. "Could you... Um, save my spot in that book. I think it was page ninety nine, one hundred..."

He does as I ask him, and when he brings it over to me, we look at each other and burst out laughing. "We are such losers," he laughs, sitting down next to me.

"I'm still mad at you," I say, even though I am smiling.

"If it makes you feel any better," he says, running his hands along my comforter. "I recycled the box."

I chuckle, watching him as he traced the pattern on my pillow. I can't help but remember his squeaky puberty voice and oversized glasses when I look at him, even though he looks completely different now.

"Thank you. But, don't ever eat my cookies, you jerk," I slap him on the shoulder.

There is a wicked look in his eye and before I know it, he has pinned me to the bed. "I can eat all the cookies I want, woman," he says, his voice extra deep.

I cackle as he tickles me, and the more I struggle slip from his grasp, the better grip he has on my wrists. "Since when are you so strong, Tuck?" I ask between gasps of laughter.

"Since puberty," he breaths and I laugh hysterically. He continues to tickle me, and I feel like I am about to explode.

"Tucker!" I scream. "Stop!"

Finally his sits up, brushing his sandy hair from his eyes. "Okay, okay."

He grunts as he lays down on his back next to me. Together, we stare at my white ceiling, waiting for each other's laughter to fade.

"It feels like we're kids again," I whisper, looking over at him.

He smiles. "I don't know if we ever grew up."

He glances at me and I look back up at the ceiling, my grin fading to a smile of content. "I don't think we did either."

"You wanna know a secret?" His voice is low and raspy, but still sweet, like a song.

"Huh?"

"I don't want to grow up. I want to be able to sneak over here, to eat your cookies-"

I slap him and he chuckles. "I'm serious!" He yells. "I don't know what I would do without this place. Without you."

There is something in the way he said that last part that makes my stomach flutter. "I couldn't agree more."

---------------------

I was pretty sure that I was hallucinating. So many colors surrounded me that I thought that my head was going to burst.

Dresses hung on every wall, every hook, every shelf. Everything was so brightly colored, nothing was ordinary about dress shops.

The only other feeling I was experiencing was something that I couldn't identify, all I knew was that I didn't like it. Was it recognition?

"Oh. My. God." Juliette squeals, running over to a long white lace dress. "This would be PERFECT for you!"

I scan over the dress, then look over at my completely clueless best friend. "I'm sorry, Jules, but don't you think I'm a little young for marriage?"

She sighs. "You have turned down everything, Rory. Can't I just go try on these now?"

I nod. "Sure. You go, I'll keep looking."

She smiles. "Cool. But, you have to tell me what you think."

We head over to the dressing room, both of us holding up a good half hours worth of dresses.

She grabs them, then throws them into her room, glancing around. "Don't tell the girl that works here that I went over the limit of dressing room items." With that, she slams the door.

I chuckle, wandering off towards a wall of dresses.

"Can you believe that it has been a year since we last went dress shopping together?" She calls out to me.

Her words send a shiver down my spine, my stomach starts to hurt. It had been a year since our schools formal dance. "No, I can't," I mumble, running my hands along the fabric of the dresses.

I glance over my options. Too sparkly. Too big. Too short. Too many ruffles.

After about forty minutes of discarded dresses and me looking for different sizes for her, I heard a satisfied sigh come from Juliette's room.

I hear the hinges on the door swing open and I gravitate towards her. When I see her, I stop in my tracks. "Woah."

She smiles, spinning around and flattening out her dress. "What do you think?"

It is long and pools at her feet, the fabric is glossy and a deep red color that makes her hair look vibrant and rich.

"I think you look hot," I say and she beams.

"Thanks, I think this is the one."

I shake my head with a smile. "I do too."

Juliette rests a hand on her hip and raises an eyebrow at me. "Now it's your turn, Rory."

"Okay, just let me look for a couple minutes," I say, starting to wander around the store.

I am pretty sure that the ladies working here are tired of our presence, otherwise they are generally grumpy ladies. Every couple minutes one of them would come up to us to check on how we were doing, probably because they hoped we were successful enough to leave.

"Can I help you, miss?" One of the ladies came up to me for what felt like the millionth time.

She wore a short, fitting dress that had short sleeves and a zipper down the front, along with a name tag that read Chanel.

Juliette was sitting in a chair by the register, chatting happily with one of the workers.

"Actually," I begin and the woman perks up, clasping her slim fingers together as I spoke. "I do need some help."

She smiles. "Of course. Do you have any lengths or colors that you would prefer."

I shake my head. "Nope."

Chanel looks me up and down, then rests a hand on my shoulder. "I have some ideas."