Play Me That Song

16

 “You gonna be fine by yourself, McKenzie?” Grace asks me hesitantly for the third time.

“I’ll be fine. Go,” I try shooing her away, but she stays in place in the doorway. She shifts her weight from one foot to the other. She swallows hard, then opens her mouth to say something else, but I hold up a hand to cut her off. “He’s just a little late picking me up. I’m a big girl, okay? I’ll be fine waiting on my own. Now get!”

“Okay. If you’re-“

“Yes, I’m sure!” I interrupt. I walk Grace to the front door and promise her I'll text her the moment Beau comes to get me. She turns back to say something else, but I push her out the door before she can. I make a big show of locking the front door to reassure her.

“Okay, well let me know!” she calls out, her voice coming in muffled through the glass. I give her a big thumbs up and wave her off as she finally starts to drive away.

I sit down in one of the chairs in the waiting area, play with the hem of my new dress, and try not to wonder where Beau has been at all day and if that where is why he's late. He sent this dress along with the new shoes I am wearing earlier. They came right after my first class with food that he had bought for the whole staff: a tray of wraps, a large bowl of fruit, and a couple of gallons of sweet tea from one of our favorite local spots. He had included a note- handwritten if you can believe that- in the bag containing my clothes.

Can’t wait to see you in this. Pick you up at 8. xx B

My last class was over at 7, which gave me plenty of time to shower in the staff locker room, slip into the stunning outfit that Beau picked out, and paint my face. When I still had some extra time, I decided to do my hair as well. Beau always loves when it's curly. Grace waited with me long after the last person left. I’m not sure what she's so nervous about; it’s not like anything ever really happens around here.

I stand up with a heavy sigh. The large clock above the reception desk reads 8:15. I stroll over to my bag, which I had left on top of the desk. I lean against the counter and scroll through my notifications. Still no word from Beau. Or Emma. Not that I thought our short exchange earlier erased everything that happened yesterday, but I was hopeful that it would have been a start. She commented on the picture I- or more accurately we- posted earlier. It was just a single red heart emoji, but I felt like that one emoji held a lot of weight. She could have ignored the post altogether or she could have commented something ugly like some of these so-called fans.

I hit the home icon to back out of Instagram and open Snapchat. Ignoring other streaks, I open my conversation with Beau. The icon next to the message I had sent him earlier, a reply to his snap about my favorite song of his being on the radio, shows that he had opened it. And yet there is still no reply from him. I click the button at the bottom of the screen to open up the camera. I capture a quick pic of the large, decorative clock on the wall before me.

“You’ve got a pretty loose definition of 8,” I caption the photo before I hit send.

I lower my phone with another sigh. Just as I am about to question where he is again, a loud knock on the front door behind me makes me jump. I whirl around with my hand over my heart to see a smiling Beau. He looks incredible in his typical wardrobe for going out: dark jeans, button up shirt, boots, large belt buckle, and, of course, his black cowboy hat. The sexiest thing he's wearing, though, has to be that devilish smile. His eyes rake over my body through the glass as I slowly made my way over to unlock the door.