Page 82 of The Flirty Forward

“I’m not. Just listen a second. Brielle is coming here, and we’re going to drive in together.”

“Wow. Shafted by the best friend. I’m not sure my heart can handle it.”

“I think your heart will be just fine,” I respond dryly. He laughs, and it tugs at my heart strings.

“No problem. I’ll see you when you get there.”

I breathe a sigh of relief. “See you.” Some of my pressure dissipates, knowing I’m not under as strict of a timeline.

I decide to at least finish my hair before she gets here. After I finish straightening it, I stare at the mirror. Do I leave it down? Or is that too dressy for something like this? A knock on thefront door pulls me from my hair crisis. I open it to find Brielle wearing a big grin and a duffel bag that dwarfs her small body. I wave at Aiden and pull her inside. “Thank you so much for coming over. I don’t know what to wear.”

Brielle’s grin widens. “I just want to revel in this. My calm friend who always is dressed perfectly needs my help today, the girl who only ever wears leggings.”

“I know,” I say with a head shake. I know how to dress well. My mother drilled that into my head, as did a closet of professional outfits by the time I was sixteen. My lawyer parents would never be caught dead in less than anything name brand and professional. But going to an event where I have to ice skate? I’m totally lost. “Please help me,” I tell my best friend.

“I’ve got you covered,” she says as she puts her big bag on my kitchen table. She unzips the bag and pulls out something. She holds up a Green Thunder shirt. It’s long and has a v-neck; it looks like a feminine version of their jerseys. “Aiden got this for me several months ago, but it’s just too long on me. I look terrible in it; I think you could totally pull it off.” She tosses it to me and then digs in her bag again. This time, she holds up a pair of jeans. I stare at them. She grins and throws them to me. “I got those for you one time after I asked you to go to a game with me, and you showed up dressed to the nines. I forgot about them until this morning.”

I hold them up. “They’re ripped.”

She grins. “Yes.”

“And faded.”

“Yes, Stephanie. They are; it’s called casual. Now go put them on with the shirt.”

I examine the jeans as I head to my room but realize I don’t have any other options. I throw on the shirt and then put on the jeans. It takes some effort, but I finally get them on. I look downat myself critically before I go out to the living room. “Yes, that’s perfect. I knew that outfit would look good on you.”

“Okay. I trust you.” I’m not entirely sure about it, but I meant what I said—I do trust Bri.

“Put your hair in a high ponytail and put on sneakers.”

I frown. “I’ll look like a cheerleader.”

Bri rolls her eyes. “That’s just what your mother always said; no, you won’t. Go do it and let’s get going.”

I do as she says and put my hair in a high ponytail; then I put on some makeup. I try to keep it light. When I walk back out to the living room, Brielle is doing something on her phone. She looks up and looks at me pensively. “See? I totally look like a cheerleader, don’t I?”

“All right fine. Yes. Go do a messy bun instead,” she orders. I stare at her. “Just throw your hair up on top of your head. You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?”

“I mean I know what you’re talking about, but I don’t know how to do it.”

“Come here,” she says, waving me forward. “You have to sit, so I can reach you.” I sit in a chair and she pulls my hair free from my hair tie before gathering up again and pulling it into an even higher ponytail.

“I thought we agreed on no ponytail,” I say.

“I’m not done yet.” She works on my hair a few minutes. “There. Perfect. Now, you look ready to go to a friends and family day with the Green Thunder.” I look in the mirror and am surprisingly pleased with what she managed to pull off. It looks like I just threw my hair up on top of my head; it looks effortless and casual.

“You sure I don’t look like a cheerleader or a high schooler?” I ask when I come back out.

“I’m pretty sure you’re being negative to cheerleaders everywhere, but I’m also sure Sebastian is not going to bethinking either of those things about you,” she responds. “Now, let’s go. I want to see Aiden; I miss him.”

“You just saw him a few minutes ago,” I remind her.

“Yes. Exactly, and now I miss him.”

I shake my head and grab my purse and phone. “Let’s go. We wouldn’t want you to have to spend any more time away from your boyfriend.”

“Fiancé,” she corrects me.

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