Then It Hits Me

Chapter 12: Love Is A Closed Door

"That's probably a good thing for her," I pull my leg onto the bar and begin to stretch. 

Thinking of Miller reminds me of the kiss we shared at my house when no one watching. I still can't believe that I initiated it and how much I enjoyed it. It didn't feel like what I thought it would feel, it was more... intimate? All I know is that it was real and we're probably never doing anything close to it again.

Shoot.

How did I forget?

A few days ago, Miller asked me to go to the movies and dinner with him tonight. That's why mom said something about dressing up for tonight's special event! Thank god I remembered earlier in the day; imagine if I remembered when Miller shows up at my house with a tie?

Once I start dancing, I totally forget about Miller and my solo, I mean Ella's solo, and let myself get lost in the music. I can feel myself move a bit stiffly because of my lack of practice, but I get into the groove after a few minutes.

The only thing I can still feel is Ella's dead eyes in the back of my head and her smirk as she does her solo. 

Finally, the end of practice arrives. I try to get a carpool with one of the other girls who actually have not lost their cars like I did, but I soon find out that they all live so far from my house.

With my bag slung over my shoulder, I make my way home. As I pass the football field where Miller and his football buddies are currently practicing, I start to laugh. I was so stupid to think that the guy who yelled 'Duck' was trying to fool me. If I listened then none of this would've happened. 

"Caitlin!" I hear Miller shout.

The sun is blinding, but I manage to look in his direction with my eyes squinted. He's wearing his helmet and has sweated through his shirt, which I would usually gag at but today, I think he looks as hot as hell. And I don't mean literally.

"Are we still on for tonight?" he shouts even louder this time and waves his arms in the air so that I can locate him better.

"Yeah!" I smile in his direction before walking off. I can hear his friends cheering in the distances and slapping his back, which must be really painful because I can her it clearly from where I am.

I am not mentally prepared for what was awaiting me when I stepped into my house. Directly in front of the door, there is a clothes rack with about a dozen dresses. Directly beside the rack, is my mother, beaming like a little child.

Knowing what this is for before she tells me, I walk over and flip through the dresses. They all look pretty, but just not me. I honestly don't know how someone can fit into some of them. When I slide my eyes to look at mom, she's enjoying her moment of youth so much that I don't want to burst her bubble, telling her that I'll just wear jeans.

She presses a yellow dress against my body, but shakes her head. She does it with every dress on the rack and eventually I can see her getting a bit fed up. When the last dress doesn't work, she clearly wants to give up. That's one thing I don't like about mom; she has no determination.

"I've got an idea," Mom sprints up the stairs after a moment of sitting.

As I patiently wait for her to come back down again, I can start to feel the pit growing inside of my stomach. This is my first date ever and I want it to be memorable, but how can it be when the whole reason we're doing it is so that our family members don't get suspicious?

I can hear mom's heels clonk down the stairwell, so I look up to her. She's holding a white dress that is no way near as extravagant as the other ones. It's not even that revealing.