Chapter 9 - Father's Stamp Of Approval

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Evelyn's POV

Thursday

My dad was just practicing his intimidating faces in the mirror. I felt sorry for Oliver, even though I knew my father would be joking, would he realize that? I had prepared myself for an embarrassing night.

My father would surely love to embarrass me in front of a boy.

I tried not to dress up to much, but I also wanted to make a good impression on Oliver, so I was somewhere in the middle. I was wearing a simple black dress, striped stockings, and once again; my favorite gothic boots, and finally my normal makeup. I wondered if Oliver would tell me I looked nice. 

No. Probably not. 

And my dad wouldn't help the chances of that happening either. 

Just as I was starting to wonder where Oliver was, there was a knock on the door. I hoped I looked okay. With a quick glance in the mirror on the way past, I hurried to answer the door before my dad did. He chuckled and let me answer it.

"Hey!" I exclaimed as I opened the door. 

Oliver looked cute as hell. 

I mean, he always did, but this time it was different. It was cold out, so he was wearing a coat with a furry rim that framed his face perfectly. Then there were his usual tattered jeans on underneath. 

"Hello." He smiled. "You said we weren't dressing up. I'll look homeless next to you."

My smile turned into a grin. I think there was a subtle, underlying compliment in his words. I wasn't sure. Even if there wasn't I was going to pretend there had been, because I liked the small rush of self confidence and hope it gave me.

My response was a brief chuckle. "No, you won't."

I turned around, standing face to face with my dad's chest, as he arrived behind me. Here was the nervous part. Oliver already knew my father's name, but the knowledge wasn't mutual so I introduced them anyway. It seemed my dad had saved his intimidating expressions for later, even offering Oliver a small smile as he shook his hand. 

It was because I had lectured him earlier not to be mean. I told him if he did I'd be really upset. 

"Let's go, I'm hungry." I said. 

My father and Oliver chuckled in unison. They looked at each other, but Oliver looked away nervously. 

We got into the car. Oliver and I both sat in the backseat, joking that we were children. I passed Oliver a few of my favorite CD's, asking which one we should listen to. He acted as if it were a big decision, rubbing his chin and creasing his eyebrows. 

"Life is Peachy." He said, as he handed me the album. I passed it to my dad and he put the CD in.

My dad slowly started talking to Oliver halfway through the drive, trying to decide whether he liked him or not. He started with the causal questions and remarks, until they finally broke the ice. I was elated to see them getting along. Even if their conversation was mostly about music. I didn't mind I wasn't included much in the conversation. 

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