Along Came Austin

Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight:
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At six, my phone pings the familiar iPhone ping. I reach my arm across the table to grab it, I've basically done nothing since getting back from school. I came home, stayed in the clothes I wore to school, flung my bag across the room, and slipped my shoes off as elegantly as an elephant doing swan lake and threw myself onto the living room couch. Been flicking through channels on the TV and scrolling through Instagram on my phone and trying to make conversation and play with Jazz. It's Austin.

Austin: Hey, practice is over. I'm going home to shower. Where do you want to go?

I stare at my phone with a stupid grin on my face as I type back a simple: Anywhere.

Austin: I'll surprise you. Pick you up at seven. :-)

I jump to my feet, instantly rushing upstairs and start rummaging through my closet for something to wear. My heart is fluttering wildly in my chest. I take a long, deep breath to calm myself.

Remember why you're doing this, I tell myself. I shake my head, grabbing an arm full of outfits and rushing to lock my bedroom door. I throw them on the bed, asking myself which outfit he would like the most. I usually dress casually. He's never really seen me in anything other than my typical jeans and tee with sneakers. I don't have time for this. I grab a random outfit: a flowy pink top and dark jeans, and I strip out of my school clothes. I get dressed in a rush and move on to step two: makeup. I keep it simple. A little bit of powder, some eyeshadow, and nude lip gloss.

I look over on my dresser for something a little bit extra and finally conclude what that extra was--two simple silver bracelets. I slip them both onto one of my wrists. I ruffle my hair a bit to give it some volume. I also grab from the dresser a bottle of my favourite perfume and spritz it twice on my neck and once on wrist. As I'm rubbing my wrists together, I search for something to put on my feet. I end up settling for some black ankle boots, and I trip over my own two feet in the process.

When seven'o'clock rolls around, I can hear an engine zipping up my street. As it nears my house, I can hear it begin to slow down. Oh, my god. He's here. My heartbeat has somehow worked its way up into my throat. I take a few seconds to breathe and regain my composure.

Should I invite him inside, introduce him to everyone, or should I run outside, hop in his car, and not care about the consequences?

I settle on the latter. I step outside, softly closing the door behind me. The air is crisp and refreshing against my warm skin. The wind is soft and comforting. I can see him from where I'm standing. He's only a few yards away. He's leaning against his truck, arms folded, watching me with a content grin.

"Hey," he says, eyes traveling to my shirt that is softly blowing against the wind.

My face twitches, but I hold back a smile. "Hey," I say. I push my hair behind my ears and stare ahead.

"You look good." His smile extends. "How do you feel about scary movies?"

I shrug, "love them."

"Good because that will fit perfectly with what I have planned." He winks, flashing his beautiful blue eyes at me opening the passenger side door. He motions for me to get in, and my legs feel like Jell-O as I leave the comfort of my front yard to approach his truck. I lumber myself inside even though his truck is sitting on a lift-kit, and I feared I would be too short.

He locks eyes with me once more before shutting the door behind me and rounding the vehicle to the drivers side. His truck is clean, and smells like cologne. His radio is turned almost all the way down, but I can faintly hear alternative rock music playing. I nod to myself. He has great taste. But remember why you're doing this, I tell myself once again.