Nothing Super [COMPLETED]

Chapter 32 - "You look perfect."

Taylor stood in front of her mirror, regarding her reflection trying to decide which aspect of her appearance was the most noteworthy: the red, quarter length sleeve dress - that hid her still healing wound - or the fact she didn't look half dead anymore.

The dark circles that had lived under her eyes for months were gone. She had never realized it before then but there had been an almost lifeless glaze over her eyes and it was no longer there. Due to the full week of never going out at night and sleeping more than a few hours she felt human again.

After grabbing her coat, phone, and overly fancy ticket, she headed downstairs. When she stepped into the living room, both her parents broke away from their books and stared at her. Her mother beamed, an amused twinkle coming into her eyes as she spotted Taylor's choice in footwear. They were a pair of old black Vans, ones she had bought to match Weston's years ago. Giving her an approving nod, her father stood.

"Do you have a ride to this shindig or can your old man take you?" he asked.

"You're not old enough to say shindig and actually think it's called that. And yes, you can drive me."

Her father winked as he went to retrieve his keys. Her mother took Taylor's hands and held them out, inspecting her.

"You look perfect."

"Thanks, mom."

Her mother cupped her face. "My baby girl is looking like herself again."

Guilt over having put her parents through so much worry for so long dimmed Taylor's mood but she put on a smile and hoped it was convincing.

"Adventure awaits us," her father said, motioning to the door.

"Oh wait, pictures!"

Taylor groaned but plastered on a smile for a total of five photos before she deemed herself unable to handle anymore. Her mother still managed to get one final one as Taylor headed out the door with her father. When her father started the car, Kenny G drifted through the speakers, the low jazz music setting a relaxed atmosphere.

"Now tell me," her father said, glancing over at her. "Are there any boys at this dance that plan to write their name on your dance card?"

Taylor shook her head. "Now you're just trying too hard to sound old. I'm not sure I have a Mr. Darcy planning to write his name down."

"Incorrect era but I commend your attempt to know when dance cards were around." He held up his index finger and Taylor knew the lecture was coming. She settled into her seat, knowing she wouldn't have to say anything for the rest of the drive. "Now dance cards came into use around the 18th century, but became widespread in the 19th century."

Taylor listened as her father went through the origins of the dance card and moved on to the history around it and why it had been brought into use. He had a bass voice and a rich cadence which Taylor knew was the reason his classes were well attended.

"That concludes your history lesson for today," her father said as he pulled the car up to the curb outside the school.

Around them, other cars were depositing their charges while some cut into the parking lot and filled the open spots. Streams of well-dressed students in a wide array of hues flowed towards the school doors. As Taylor reached for the door handle, her father stopped her.

"Taylor," he said. "I want you to know that your mother and I are so proud of you." Taylor felt her heart clench and wondered if her guilt would ever go away. "It's been a rough few months but you are working hard and we wanted you to know that we can see that."