Page 13 of Trusting You
“You know I can’t,” I rolled my eyes. “It’s Friday.” I reached for another shirt and stuffed it in my bag.
“Yes, you can. Call your mom and ask if you can stay here this weekend. You haven’t done that in months. I’m sure your mom can survive one weekend without you,” Emma groaned.
“Not really,” I mumbled. Emma had no idea how much my mom really did need me. I was the reason that she had so much to do all the time. They helped me so I could come to Eastman. Now I owed them.
“Please, Mel,” Em begged. “Just one night. You could go home in the morning.”
The more I watched her pout, the more I wanted to give in and say yes. I hadn’t cut loose in forever, and one night wouldn’t kill me. No one around here knew that version of me, and tomorrow I could go back to this. “Let me send her a text and see,” I relented.
“Yes!” Em fist pumped as she jumped up and down. “You text your mom. I’m going to find something for you to wear,” she giggled as she began digging through my drawers.
I sent a text to my mom, and waited. It seemed to take forever for her to answer, and as I waited, I prepared for her to say no. She’d told me no before when I’d asked to stay, but I’d hoped this time would be different. Just once, I’d like to be a normal college girl. I wanted to do normal things that other twenty-year-olds did, but I knew I couldn’t. I wasn’t normal, and only my parents knew this.
I grinned when I saw her answer flash up on the screen. I laughed as Emma pulled a red top out my drawer, “She said yes.”
“See? I knew she would,” she tossed the shirt at me before going back to digging.
“Where are we going?” I held up the top. I hadn’t seen it in years. I honestly forgot I had it. It was a deep red long-sleeved shirt with the shoulders cut out. It made my boobs look great, but I didn’t really wear fitted stuff anymore. I’d bought it for Valentine’s Day with Jason. I knew it looked good; at least Jason acted like it did.
“There’s this bar that Brock and I went to a couple of times last year. They have the best drink specials.”
“Did you forget I’m not twenty-one yet?” I placed my hands on my hips. I knew she had a fake ID, but I didn’t think she knew I had one.
“This right here says you are,” she giggled as she tossed the piece of plastic at me.
“Wait,” I looked at it. It was the same picture that was on my school ID, but different personal information. “When did you do this?” I rubbed it to check the authenticity. Emma didn’t know that she was giving me something I already had. The night she had planned was hitting a little too close to home.
“Last week. I know somebody who knows somebody,” she shrugged. “Now, please say you’ll let me do your hair,” she begged.
“I can do my own hair, Em,” I sighed.
“I know, but,” she tapped her chin a few times before continuing, “you don’t always highlight your best features. There are going to be guys there,” she huffed.
“I don’t need help meeting someone,” I rolled my eyes. “Tell ya what,” I paused, knowing I was going to regret this, but the little voice in the back of my head was screaming at me louder than it had in months. “I’ll get ready. If you don’t approve, then you can make me change. Deal?”
“Fine,” she pushed her hair out of her face.
I laughed as I grabbed a pair of black skinny jeans, and my hair and makeup bag. I draped the red top over my shoulder as I took my items down to the community bathroom. I needed time and space if I was going to pull one over on Em.
It took me awhile to get ready. I’d pulled my hair up on top of my head and curled it. Each curl was pinned strategically to look like it was thrown together in a hurry. I pulled a few stray pieces down around my face and neck to soften it. After creating a dark smoky eye, I swiped on some red lipstick. I smacked my lips together before running some clear gloss over them so they’d shine. I appraised myself in the mirror before heading back to our room. I looked hot, that was a fact, and nothing like the Mel that attended Eastman. This Mel hadn’t been let out in two years, and I needed to remind myself that I had to keep her in check. If I didn’t, all the hard work I’d put in since starting here would have been for nothing.
“Whoa!” Emma stood with her mouth open as I slipped the ID she’d given me in my wristlet, along with some cash and my phone.
“What?” I turned to face her. The red top rose slightly, showing off an inch or so of skin at my midriff.
“Who are you, and where is my roommate?” her eyes scanned me from head to toe.
“Very funny. So I’m guessing you approve of my choices?” I laughed as I reached for a pair of black ankle boots. I tugged them on and stood up straight, brushing my hands down the front of me.
“You look… I don’t even know. Let’s take a selfie,” she bounced over and wrapped her arm around my shoulder, holding her phone in the other hand. We smiled as it clicked before she clicked a few buttons, and then put it in her pocket. “Ready?”
“Yeah. Are we walking, or are you driving?” I reached for the door and heaved it open.
“I’m driving. It’s like a fifteen-minute drive to the bar,” she waved her hand in the air as I followed behind her, and outside.
“Oh yeah? What’s the name of it?” I was almost running to keep up with her.
Once we were in her car and buckled, she cranked it and pulled out. As we made our way down the street she finally told me. “It’s this cool place Brock and I found called ‘Shakers’.”
