Martha’s POV
“I cannot believe I am getting dressed to go to a private rehearsal – The Fooo’s private rehearsal.” Sarah shook her head slightly as she stared blankly at her closet. “I don’t even know what to wear!” She threw her hands up in frustration.
I tapped my chin as I stood next to her. “Well, are you going sexy girl or preppy school girl? Which way do you want to draw Omar in?” I gave her a wink.
In return she slapped my arm, “I’m not striving to get some tonight. I just met Omar. You however should be stressing out. Oscar?” she squinted her eyes and cocked her head to the side.
“It’s not like that,” I sang informingly as I picked through the clothes in her closet. “Oscar isn’t like that. At least I don’t think so.”
“Oh sure, that’s not what Omar said.”
“Yes, you told me what Omar said and if, IF, that is true, just because Oscar likes me doesn’t mean that we are going to do anything.” I held out a shirt that she quickly rejected.
“I’m not saying you are going to do anything. I am simply suggesting that if you pick the right outfit…”
“I get it,” I cut her off. “Thanks.”
She laughed, “Oh lighten up, Martie!”
I gave up on attempting to find her an outfit and went back to my own closet.
“You are nervous aren’t you,” she sprang up from her bed in a sudden epiphany.
“Nervous isn’t the right word. Terrified might be a better adjective.”
“Why?” She had crossed the room and was now sitting on my bed. “It’s just Oscar.”
“I know,” I shook my head and sat down next to her. “Maybe that is why I am worried. Maybe I know that tonight could be the next step. It’s been almost three weeks and it certainly doesn’t seem that long. Plus I haven’t seen him in a week.”
The boys rehearsals had been pushed back a week. Instead, their schedules were crammed with heavy PR. I hadn’t seen Oscar since our lunch before school started –the time he left me with a kiss on the cheek for the second time.
We had been texting nonstop. He even mentioned that he had gotten in trouble a few times for being on his phone when he wasn’t supposed to be. This made me feel important which just added more nerves.
“Oh come on, Martie, he has been texting you all week. I’m pretty sure he called you like at least twice. Go and find a rocking outfit and sweep him off his feet!” She waved her hand back in forth in a seeping motion causing me to laugh.
“Ohmygosh,” I hopped off the bed. “I totally forgot about these.” I made my way to my suitcase. One of three –it was the only one that hadn’t been unpacked yet. I was simply too lazy.
I unzipped the zipper and pulled out a bright pink bag from a random shop I had wondered into on one of my first days in London. I pulled out two skin tight miniskirts that rode about seven inches from the knee. One was denim and the other was red.
