Second Chances [Lesbian]

Chapter 5

"Ren? Are you there?"

"Yes," I managed. "I- umm, yes. I would like dinner."

Smooth. Real smooth.

"Okay, I'm just about home. I'm going to change and then I'll head your way. Are you sure you're up for it? I don't want you to push yourself, but I figured it might be nice to be out for a bit."

"Yes, it's fine. I'm fine. Dinner out sounds great." I cringed at the sound of my own voice. I didn't normally struggle this much with.. words. And speaking coherently.

"Perfect. I'll be there in about an hour. What are you in the mood for? Italian, Thai, tapas..?"

"Um, I'm not really sure. You can pick. I'm sure whatever you pick will be delicious." I was still just standing in the middle of my living room, now internally panicking about getting ready for dinner. The last time I'd been out to dinner had been to the local arcade restaurant as a special treat for Eliza. I never went out to eat. It was so awkward to sit at a table alone. I had a few acquaintances I had lunch with every so often, but I wasn't much for "going out".

"Sounds good to me. I think I know just the place. See you soon."

"See you soon," I echoed. I took a step to head to my room and my foot squished. Well, now I had to clean cherry gunk off my foot.. I let out an exasperated sigh.

After cleaning up my mess, I raced to take a quick shower. I was on a time limit to try to look my best tonight.

As I wiped the foggy mirror after my shower, I studied my face. My hazel eyes sported some dark circles.. not entirely unusual, and my lips looked slightly pale. I headed over to the small vanity in the corner of my room. A purchase I had made hesitantly about a year ago. I ran my fingertips over the makeup brushes and sat on the soft bench, wrapped in my towel.

I was fascinated by makeup, always had been, even as a little girl. I'd often watched my mother apply her makeup and thought it was like magic. A splash of color, a dusting from a brush; her eyes always sparkled, and she'd smile and laugh. Then dad would see her and every single time, he'd look at her lovely face and say, "Aren't I the luckiest man in the world? I have the two most beautiful girls." And then he'd throw a wink my way.

As I started my usual routine, pulling out my favorite items, a specific memory played in my head. It was one of the first few dates I'd been on with Whitney. I had been running late and she'd offered to pick me up from work. After getting in her car, I'd lamented not being able to "get ready" for our date. She'd scoffed and said, "It's fine. We're just going to grab a quick bite. Besides, isn't it nice not to waste so much time putting all that stuff on your face?" I wasn't sure if she had meant it to sound reassuring or helpful, but instead, it had made me feel uncomfortable. After that, I'd stopped wearing makeup, but if she noticed a difference, she never said anything. The topic had never come up again.

With a final swipe of a rosy tint across my lips, I smiled at my reflection that looked so much like my mother. My hair was from my father, though. As I carefully worked my fingers through the dark waves, it reminded me of him. "Darker than a raven's wing" is what he'd tell me as he stroked my hair at bedtime.

A ping from my phone broke me out of my reverie.

Be there in about 15

I gasped and clutched at my towel-clad body. It had probably not been the best time to stroll down memory lane. I dropped my towel and made a mad dash through my bedroom to get dressed. I stood at my closet in my underwear, pawing through everything that just wasn't right.

Just as I was pulling on my last shoe, which I'd had to fish out from the back of the coat closet, I heard the knock at the door.

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