Chapter Five
Lizzy
“I have no idea where he’s taking me, but-ow!” I hiss and shake the fingertips I’d just gotten a little too close to the flat-iron I’m running through my hair.
“I keep telling you, you should get one of the brush ones,” River tells me, referring to her new go-to hair gadget for the millionth time, “It’s faster, it’s easier, and you won’t burn yourself as often.”
Her voice is tinny and metallic through the speakerphone, but I’ve been on the phone with her telling her about my date with Trent, catching up with her while I get myself ready. I’d caved and gone digging for my makeup, and fortunately it had been in one of the top boxes, so it hadn’t taken much work to find.
He’d told me the date was casual, which made picking an outfit easier, but I worried that maybe jeans were too casual a choice. Would this blouse look better with a skirt? But then what if I was overdressed? I kept trying to remind myself that this was Trent, who knew me and wasn’t going to be surprised by anything he saw, but that almost made it worse.
It wasn’t like a normal date, where you can kind of clean yourself up and make that dazzling first impression. He’s seen me dressed up before. But unlike a normal first date, he’s also seen me at my low points, too.
“Well, you’ll be back on Saturday, right?” I ask her, “Why don’t you bring it with you when you come over to help me unpack and I can try yours out, finally decide for myself.”
“I can do that,” she says, “But we’re not spending all night unpacking, I’m taking you out on the town.”
“Your first night back?”
“No time like the present,” River replies, “You’ve got forever to unpack boxes, but there are only so many Saturday nights while you’re young and hot.”
I laugh. “We’ll see,” I tell her, “Either way, I can’t wait to see you. I’ve missed you so much.”
“I miss you, too, Lizzy,” she says, the teasing tone ebbing out of her voice, “I’m so happy you decided to come back home. And you and I both know that Danny was never good enough for you.”
I smile. “Oh, yeah? And what about Trent? You think he might be?”
She pauses, mulling over the question. “Potentially. We’ll see how he does.”
River likes Mason and Trent well enough, although she’s never been close with them like I am. But she’d known about my torrid crushes on both of them all through college. I imagine she’s relieved she won’t have to hear me start up with the pining again.
Although the thought makes me wonder again if Mason knows about Trent and I going on a date. I imagine he probably does, but I don’t know that for sure.
“Well, I’d better let you go, you said he was picking you up at six, right?” River asks.
I glance at the time on the screen and see that it’s twenty minutes to six. “Yeah, he’ll be here in twenty. Is it stupid that I’m nervous? I mean, I know Trent, like, as well as I know you, there’s no reason I should be worried about this.”
“It’s not stupid, it makes sense,” River says, “There’s more on the line than your standard first date because if it’s a flop, that doesn’t just affect the romantic relationship, it impacts the friendship. And because you guys already know each other, it’s not like a standard first date because you’re not trying to learn every little thing about each other.”
I gnaw my lower lip. “You don’t think this is going to be a flop, do you?” I ask her nervously.
“No, if I thought this was going to be a flop, I’d be trying to talk you out of it,” River reminds me patiently and reassuringly.
“Ok,” I let out the breath I hadn’t even realized I was holding, “Thanks.”
“Anytime. You know I’ve always got your back. But I think you’re gonna have a great time tonight, and you just need to relax. He’s known you as long as I have, Liz, he’s seen the ups and downs, and he still wants to go out with you. Remember that.”
“True, but five years is a long time to forget someone’s annoying habits,” I counter, “Maybe he’s forgotten that there’s a reason I was in the friend zone or something.”
“Oh, shut up,” I can practically hear her rolling her eyes, “Stop thinking worst-case scenario, and assume the best.”
I laugh. “Ok, ok, sorry, you’re right.”
“Damn right, I’m right,” she says firmly, “Now go finish getting ready.”
“You got it, boss,” I bid her goodbye and hung up the phone.
I carefully ran a brush through my hair, checking for spots I might have missed with the flat-iron. But it looks good, and my makeup is still intact. I straighten my blouse and smooth a wrinkle from the thigh of my jeans.