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I laugh. "Yes, on the lips."
She watches me carefully, looks at me as though she can see right through the smile I'm giving her. "If you're happy, then I'm happy for you," she tells me as she leans against me on the couch, wraps her arms around one of mine. "But what about Kyle?"
"Kyle's probably balls deep in someone else right now," I shake my head before grabbing the remote and pressing play.
—
"Mom!" I yell down the stairs in a panic. "Where is my black turtleneck dress?"
Silence.
"Mom!" I scream.
Still no answer.
I trudge down the stairs, my hair half curled, my makeup half done, see her on the phone on the back deck.
I pound on the glass door, scare her half to death. She clutches her chest, walks over and slides the door open. "What?"
"Where's my black, turtleneck dress? The one with no sleeves?"
Mom scratches her forehead, trying to remember where she put it after picking it up from the dry cleaners. "Check the guest bedroom closet."
"Thanks," I mutter as I start to walk away.
"What do you need it for?" she asks, sliding the phone away from her face.
My eyes bulge. "Oh my god. For my date with Matt. Tonight."
"Oh," she frowns as if she's completely forgotten.
"I have to go get ready," I tell her before turning on my heel, racing up the stairs and striding to the guest bedroom.
Sure enough, my dress is hanging up along with half a dozen of hers. I snag it off the hanger and run down the hall to the bathroom.
After putting on the dress, pulling on some black, skin-tight leggings, stepping into my knee-high leather boots, I finish curling my hair. Big golden ringlets. I run my fingers through them, separate the curls, give my hair a softer, messier look. After I finish with eyeliner and mascara and lipstick, I spray myself with perfume, grab my purse from my room and head down the stairs.
"You look stunning," Mom beams at me as she opens the coat closet by the front door and grabs my light grey peacoat.
"I'm so nervous," I tell her as I smooth down my hair, slide a few strands behind my ears.
"It's Matt," she smiles. "You'll have a great time."
I give Mom a kiss on the cheek, wipe the outline of red lipstick off her, put on my jacket and walk out the front door.
From the front porch, I can see Matt's Jeep isn't parked in its usual spot in the driveway next to ours. I pull out my phone, see the time says 6:04. Where could he be?
I decide to wait on the front porch, my legs anxiously shaking beneath me. I don't know why, but I have this sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, like I might throw up. I know Matt would never stand me up. Especially after he told me he loved me last night. But it's not like Matt to be late. Or not to call when he's going to be.
The sun is setting behind the mountain, painting the sky in deep shades of salmon and violet. I wrap my arms around myself, sit down on the porch steps, pick at the hem of my coat.
Minutes click by and I check my phone obsessively.
Where is he?
By the time my clock reads 6:37, I decide to call him. His phone immediately goes to voicemail.
I shiver as the sun starts to sink behind the mountain and the sky turns periwinkle, then a dark shade of navy.
