Fate Interrupted

8. Ready, Steady, Go

Ren

NOVEMBER 2009

I wish all these damn butterflies would go away!

Opening my eyes wide, I slowly stroke my mascara evenly and lightly to avoid clumps. My stomach feels so uncomfortably light that I think about eating again just to try to weigh it down. I've been nervous all day—from the moment I woke up till now, and it's only getting worse.

At first, I tried to chalk up the nervousness to my ongoing apartment hunt. I thought the feeling would subside after confirming how wonderful the apartment I found yesterday was in person, submitting the application, and securing it with a deposit.

However, the slight nausea in the pit of my stomach, which is still slowly circling like a shark in a cage, is now clearly brought on by my impending date with my now beyond-gorgeous ex-boyfriend. Eeek!

I'm trying not to take Xanax these days unless I actually have a major panic attack, and this is definitely not one, but oddly, since I've been home, I really haven't experienced any.

Refocusing my attention to my lips, I add my favorite tinted lip balm, enjoying the silky feeling of rubbing them together as I screw the cap back on. Checking myself one more time in the mirror before I leave the bathroom, my assessment is that I look good—or as good as I can manage. I don't want to appear like I've tried too hard, right?

It's 6:55 pm, so I trot down the stairs eager to watch for Gio's arrival so I can go out to him before he actually comes up to the door.

"Well, don't you look nice," my mom praises from the chair in the living room.

She joins me in the entry, looks over the kinda conservative, kinda not, little black dress I picked out, and then checks my backside. "That dress is a little tight in the back, don't you think? Wait, are you going on a date?"

"I wore it all the time in New York. I'm just going out to dinner with Kristin." I lie.

Why am I lying like a teen? 

But the fact is, I'm not ready for my mom to pry into why I'm seeing Gio again. All sorts of questions and assumptions will crop up. I don't know where exactly this is going yet or how I really feel about it. I want my privacy... for now.

Just then, a shiny black Corvette with tinted windows pulls up in front of our house. WTF! My mouth hangs open for a second.

"Does Kristin drive a Corvette?" my mom's eyebrows shoot skyward, quite impressed. You'll never know it from looking at my mom, but she's really into muscle and sporty cars. She has an old 1960s Mustang she keeps in the garage but rarely drives anymore. Suddenly, I regret my thrifty decision to buy the used Ford Escort that's sitting in the driveway.

Luckily, a Corvette is not totally out of Kristin's personality or capability to own. My straight-A high school friend Kristin had gone to MIT and is now taking over as Vice President of her Dad's tech company.

"I guess so," I respond slowly, still trying to scoop my jaw up off the floor. "Gotta go, mom. I might be back late," I call over my shoulder and close the door behind me. Skipping over to the car, I open the door and look inside. There is Gio dressed to kill in an off-white collared shirt and staring at me.

"Hi, Ren..." he trails off, checking me out. "Wow, nice dress." His eyes darken in the tinted interior of the car. "Hop in."

You don't have to ask me twice! I slide in quickly and shut the door behind me.

"Speaking of wow, Gio," I smile, catching his eyes and adjusting my skirt. "Um, nice car!"

"Thanks," his voice rolls out, low and deep. His lip-curling up on one side in his deathly attractive lopsided smile.