GRETCHEN
I peered at the reflection in the mirror, barely recognising the woman staring back at me.
I’d met Rosie at the mall earlier that day, begging her to help me look sensational for my date.
Rosie had squealed and danced at the news Cal was back, then she went into diva mode, dragging me to the hair salon.
I wasn’t holding out much hope they could fit me in; it was a Saturday, after all.
A petite blonde girl called Molly had a cancellation and was all too excited to get her hands on my unruly mop. She had scrubbed, snipped and blow dried to within an inch of her life.
I was astounded that someone so small could have such strength!
She teased my hair into silky curls that tumbled down my shoulders, complete with caramel highlights. Molly ran some hair product through my hair and some three hours later from walking in I was done.
Rosie stared at me, agape, as I paid Molly and added a heavy tip.
Wow.
I felt almost awkward, not wanting to mess up the curls.
Rosie walked over, whistling.
“Ouch. Cal is going to die! You lookinsanelyhot, momma!”
I giggled, linking arms with her as we made our way out of the salon, watched by a smiling Molly.
Next stop was all the stores—we trawled through so many—Rosie was getting agitated because she didn’t know where I was going that evening.
GRETCHEN:
Where are we going tonight? Need to know how to dress…!
CAL:
Dress however the fuck you like—you won’t be wearing it long. We are going somewhere nice; I promise.
I had butterflies in my tummy as I read it.
Rosie rolled her eyes. “They really do just think with their cocks, don’t they?”
I shrugged, remembering that morning with a shiver. In the end we settled on a simple yet figure hugging black dress, the back exposed.
Later that evening, I stared at myself in the mirror again, chewing on my lip as I waited for Cal to pick me up. I wore a diamante choker, and I had gone all the way with the makeup, going as far as to follow a tutorial on YouTube on ‘smoky eyes’ and nude lips. I’d just finished the lip liner on my lips as the buzzer rang.
I squealed, grabbing my black fur-collared jacket. I carefully walked down the stairs in my heels, and tried not to slip.
My Dad had answered the door and was standing at the bottom of the stairs talking with Cal, a relaxed expression on his face—clearly Mom had filled him in.
I smiled as they broke off their conversation to watch me descend the stairs.
Mom walked in from the kitchen, her eyes falling on me as she smiled in delight, her hands flying to her mouth as tears filled her eyes. I felt for them—they didn’t get to see me go to prom; this was as good as that to them.
But it was Cal who took my breath away, his jaw dropping as he watched me stride towards him.
“You look beautiful; I am a lucky man.”
He was trying to behave in front of my parents, but as his eyes drank me in, I saw his thoughts were not that of a respectable man, more likely depraved.
