I Knew Lorelai

unwelcome

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'No. . .' I moaned, my voice breaking.

I couldn't have - It couldn't be her.

I should have known when -

I was so careful.

I never wanted to hear her name again, but I did.

There was only one person who still called me that.

Lorelai.

↯

'Analisa?' Aisha questioned. 'What-What is all of this?' She motioned to my flower- decked apartment. But unlike me, her face only held a pleasant surprise(and watery eyes).

'Forget about it, Aisha.' I gave her a small smile. '

'It's from an old friend'

that I thought I had left behind.

Aisha grinned. 'Nice. Okay, I will be-' She grabbed the boxes from my hands. ' Settling in my apartment.'

Yay.

There was only one thing to do.

I replied to the text.

It couldn't have even been a minute since I saw the replies.

Gosh darn it, I thought. That's, like, an hour away!
'Shoot' A voice whispered behind me.
I turned rapidly. 'God, I'm sorry. That was totally out of line. Your message's are your business.' April apologised, her hands in the air.
'Uh-It's fine.' I replied.
'If you don't mind me asking. .' She ventured.
'Who- who is Rory, and why do you not like him so much?'
I was going to correct her, but I didn't.
The less she knew, the better.
'He's an old friend, that I'm going to meet after a long time.' I told her, choosing my words carefully.

Aisha beamed, probably glad that there was some interesting aspect to me .

'First things first. Do you have something to wear ?' She asked, while brushing past me to see the contents of my wardrobe.

Shoot! What was I going to wear?

She had opened my wardrobe already, deep in thought.

'So?' I asked 'What do you think?'
Aisha sighed. 'Analisa , it hurts me to tell you this, but, as an aspiring designer, your wardrobe looks like a hybrid lace-and-flannel monster puked in it.'

I sighed. 'You're not wrong, but I must have a formal dress in here somewhere ....' I mused.

I opened the big boxes that I had last opened at the opening gala of Dr. Everett's clinic.
'Okay.' Aisha cracked her knuckles.
  'Let's do this.'
After a lot of mumbled curses, thrown dresses and scowls
(at clothing) , she held up three final choices.

'So here's, option one.' She handed me a scarlet dress  with a rose brooch on the side. It was pretty figure-fitting.It was elegant, and beautiful, but verging on garish.
I couldn't really see myself in something like that.
I brushed the dress aside.
'Nah.' I confirmed.
Aisha fumed. 'I was rooting for that one.' She muttered.
She showed me option two.
It couldn't have been more different than the red dress.
For starters, it was black.
It was a full-sleeved, but the sleeves were made of chiffon.
It wasn't very figure-hugging, but it had a long, flowing skirt that reached a little above my knee.
'I love it. . .' I murmured. Aisha could clearly see my heart eyes.
'Meh, it's not that bad of a fashion choice!' Aisha quipped.
I rolled my eyes, chuckling .

↯

I turned around slowly, like an extremely uncomfortable model.

What I saw in the mirror was most definetely not me.

Okay, maybe I was exaggerating, but the make-over was evident. Firstly, all my freckles and moles were covered, with foundation.
April applied some mascara, and a 'smokey eye'.
I drew the line at fake lashes.
She also curled my hair into blonde beach waves, and believe me, that was something.
I have got to admit, April was good at what she did.

At first, I didn't know why I had dressed up so much just to meet Lorelai.
If it had been upto me, I thought, I would have just gone wearing a shirt and jeans.
I turned to Aisha, who was admiring her work fondly.
'Best friends?' She blurted, her cheeks aflame.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, along with the memories of the last time I heard those words.

'Uh, sure. Best friends.'

↯

It was exactly 6:58 when I arrived at Giorgio's.
To be honest, I hadn't been to this part of town since I had moved in, because everyone had referred to it as 'Mob town.'

Naturally, you could see why I wasn't inclined to visit.

There was on old man at the door. I thought he was the valet, or something, so I handed him the keys to my Prius.

He looked thoroughly confused.
'Queste sono le tue chiavi. perché nel mondo me li dai?' He sputtered.
Not knowing a word of Italian, I replied in French.
'N'êtes-vous pas le valet?'
He sighed, shaking his head.
'Non, non, mon cher, viens t'asseoir.'
He led me inside the restaurant. To my surprise, it was quaint, and homely, and beautiful.
The only artificial sources of light were the fairy lights and lanterns, and roof had patches of glass sewn into it. 
Their tables, simplistic, yet elegant.
While looking around the restaurant, I noticed a familiar face.
I approached his table stealthily.

That is, until, I realised who he was.

'Evan ?'

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900WORDS yayy!
Tbh I hate evan but I have a feeling you guys will like him.

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