Slugger

13: Kennedy, Like the President

"Okay Kennedy," I tell my reflection in the mirror. "You look fantastic, your hair is immaculate and you didn't put too much highlighter on, so relax,"

Jackie wanders through the open door to my room. "Why are you talking to yourself?"

I close my eyes and take a deep breath, feeling my stress levels rise as he takes a seat on my bed leisurely. "I'm trying to stop psyching myself out because I'm going to Dante's house."

He gasps. "Are you scared?"

I shrug, trying to find the words to explain my fears. "Not really scared but -,"

Tyler waltzes into my room with two pudding cups, one of which he hands to Jackie as he joins him on my bed. "Girl! Look at your legs!"

Suddenly self-conscious, I stare down at my legs and attempt to suppress the panic that begins to rise in my stomach. "What? What's wrong with my legs?"

He surveys my mini breakdown innocently as if his ass didn't cause it. "They look great,"

I release a long sigh. "Tyler!"

"What?" He puts a spoonful of his pudding in his mouth and looks at me expectantly. "What did I do this time?"

"You can't just – could you like, not?"

He peers at me as though I've grown another head. I don't understand why because I'm making perfect sense right now. "Why are you so stressed?"

It's as if he hasn't heard me panicking for the past four days about the fact Dante invited me to see his whole family. "His family, Tyler. I'm going to meet his mom."

Tyler shrugs. "No big deal, his mom's nice. Oh – and tell his brother that I'm gonna whoop his ass at basketball the next time he's in town."

I give him an exasperated stare as he turns to play with Jackie. "His mom won't like me,"

"Why won't she?"

Why won't she again?

I think back to what Stacy said – something about girl code. Apparently mothers don't like it when their sons get in relationships because they get too far away from them or some shit like that. Hell, I barely listen to anything Stacy says any more. It's always way too complicated and passively aggressively related to Wayne.

"She just won't," I settle for. He rolls his eyes and I do the same before he throws his empty pudding cup into my trash can.

"She's lovely though, she liked – never mind." He stands and stretches, looking kind of guilty. I narrow my eyes and lean against the wall.

"What were you going to say?"

He shrugs. "Nothing."

Before I can question him further, my cell phone rings, alerting me of Dante's presence. I scramble for my phone before composing myself and picking up.

"Hello?" I say, sounding way more relaxed than I feel right now. Maybe this skirt thing was a bad idea – but would they approve if I wore jeans? Stress.

"I am about a minute away," He says a matter of factly. That means that it's too late for me to change into one of my mom's pantsuits. "You good?"

I check the clock on the far wall of my room and suppress the largest sigh ever. It's only a quarter to seven, meaning we'd probably get to his place before half past and I'll just be there for God knows how long while - according to Stacy – his mom tears me a new one.

How lovely.

"Yeah, I'm ready – I'm just – yeah. See you soon," I go to scratch my head and remember just in time that my hair's all done up and I'd probably melt into a pool of tears if I mess even one strand up.