“Hm.” His knuckles grip the wheel, mulling it over. He hates me leaving the house but knows the benefits of a good reference. Plus, his daughter being trained by a world-class musician would give him bragging rights in his social circle. Eventually, he nods in reluctant agreement. “Fine, but I want to speak to your mother, Mia.”
“Of course,” Mia says. “I’ll get her to call you as soon as we’re home. She’ll be rehearsing right now and doesn’t like being disturbed when she’s practicing. You know what creatives are like.”
“What time should I pick you up?” he asks rhetorically. “I’ll give you three hours.”
“It’s already six,” Mia says. “Why don’t you stay the night, Erin? It’s honestly no problem. We have the space.”
The way she says it comes out so offhandedly that it almost convinces me that this wasn’t pre-planned.
Dad’s brow furrows in suspicion. “Erin has a busy schedule.”
“I don’t have school tomorrow,” I say, daring to push his boundaries further. “I’ll be back first thing in the morning. Please, Dad? Just this once? Think about college!”
A long pause drags out, squeezing all the air from my lungs with it.
“Fine,” he quips. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning for breakfast. Do not be late again.”
“Yes, sir.”
I close the car door, not quite believing we’ve pulled it off. We say nothing until we’re back in Mia’s car, and my father’s taillights are vanishing into the distance.
“Okay, your dad is officially the scariest man I’ve ever met,” she says. “Holy shit, I thought he was going to drag you away. Did you see his face?”
“I can’t believe he said yes.”
I expected him to put up more of a fight…
“Well, he did.” Mia cranks up Taylor Swift to full blast. “It’s time to party!”
I giggle nervously. Well, I guess I’m doing this…
Two hours and a fake phone call to my dad later, Mia is in her element. I haven’t seen her this excited since she modeled in a cosmetics campaign. Her room has been transformed into a runway, and she’s hurling garments at me from all angles.
Her bedroom is an explosion of color: pink walls, a California king bed with a heart-shaped headboard, and a dressing table with flashing lights that give Hollywood vibes. My room looks like a nun’s library in comparison.
“Try this dress,” she suggests.
I hold it against me. It’s purple, skintight, and has a plunging neckline that goes down to my belly button. “Absolutely not.”
“Okay, fine.” She ponders, then twirls her finger. “Turn for me.”
I humor her and spin.
She bites her lip in concentration, then her eyes light up. “Okay, I have just the outfit.”
She rifles around her rails in her adjoining walk-in, launching Jimmy Choos and Nikes at me. I duck to avoid being hit in the head.
“What the…” I pick up a bright pink, phallic object that lands at my feet alongside the pile of shoes. “Is this what I think it is?”
She turns and smirks. “Oh yeah, that. I figured I’d try it after being fingered by Oliver did nothing for me.” She shrugs. “Ithought there was something wrong with me at first, but no. It was all his poor technique and skinny fingers.”
Oliver is Mia’s long-term, on-and-off boyfriend, who is hosting the party this evening.
My cheeks flush as I throw the vibrator to the side.
“Poor Oliver,” I say.
“Poor Oliver got the best head of his life from me, so don’t feel too sorry for him. Besides, he’s better now that I’ve shown him what to do.” She wiggles her fingers and cackles. “All he needed was a little practice.”
