Chapter Forty-Eight: How Many Times Am I Going To Say Date?

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CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT | HOW MANY TIMES AM I GOING TO SAY DATE?

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Sunday.

The day I have been waiting for. The day that made me excited and nervous at the same time. The day that made my heart jump at the sound. It's the day that Adam is taking me on a date. Or a hangout. I don't even know at this point. He told me it wasn't a date, but then called me and asked if I was ready for 'the date.' Am I ranting?

Honestly, I never knew this day would come, ever. Who knew that Adam and I will be going a date. It just doesn't make sense! He's the guy that's supposed to hate me, now, we're all of sudden going on a date? A date is supposed to be an outing where two people like each other and to want to get to know each other, they both pick a date, then go out together and have fun on the date. (If it's boring, then nevermind).

How many times am I going to say date?

The point is, I'm freaking hyperventilating. What do I do on a date? Do I pretend to listen to his thoughts and pretend I'm intrigued when I'm really not? I'm thinking too much. I really do suck.

So, I call Amber.

Okay, so you're probably wondering, 'why is she calling Amber when she can easily talk to her mom?' See, the thing is, I don't know if we're in good terms or not. Yeah, I forgave her weeks ago, but believe it or not, we're still awkward with each other. And anyway, isn't it awkward talking to your mom about boys? To me, it's kind of freaky.

"Hello?" Amber answered after a few rings.

"I need your help," I say, "it's about a boy--,"

"I'll be right there," she says without missing a beat.

Before I could say anything else, she hung. Sighing, I stood up, going over to my closet. I looked through all my clothes and my eyes caught one outfit that I thought was perfect.

It was the outfit that Adam chose back at the mall. It was the one with a maroon long-sleeved top, with a black flowing skirt that reached up just above mid-thigh and the matching black tights that went with it. I kept fighting with myself whether I should wear it or not because let me remind you, I was never good at picking my outfits from the beginning.

The doorbell rang, making me snap out of my thoughts. I go downstairs, to only scrunch my face into disgust. "Alright, alright, I called you over to help, not to make babies."

I pulled Amber and West away from their makeout session, which had scarred me, probably for life. West wiped off the lipstick with the back of his hand which was smeared all over his lips. Amber winked at him, "We'll finish later."

I just about gagged, letting Amber follow me. Amber and West have been on a couple of dates, and they're already dating surprisingly. Their relationship is... different. Their relationship consists of making dirty jokes, making out, making me and everyone else uncomfortable, but that's okay. I mean, it's not my type of relationship, but it's 2019 and we need to let people live how they like it.

"So, who's the boy?" She asked, trying not to sound too eager. But she failed, as she pathetically squealed, waving her arms around frantically. Laughing, I told her to sit on the bed as I gave her my outfit.

"His names Adam," I said, the feeling of heat creeping up to my cheeks. She wiggles her eyebrows at me, making a weird "ooh" sound. I rolled my eyes, trying not to smile. It's finally nice to just relax and talk about boys with a female friend.

Wow, so just like that? You're going to replace Bella?

Pathetic excuse for a friend.

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