Page 38 of Last First Date
"Is that actually a thing?" he asks me carefully. "Did you learn that in first responder training?"
I laugh at him. "No, that's just a throwback to my growing up days. From a scientific point of view, I'm probably covering your open wound with all of my germs right now, but my mom always did this for me when I was little and got a skinned knee or whatever." I smile a little self-consciously. “And it always seemed to help.”
"Your mother? She doesn't seem like the kiss your boo-boo type at all." He smiles extra-toothily at me, his eyes glittering like he’s waiting for me to give him the real scoop.
I shrug, a little uncomfortable with the way he's talking about my mother, like she’s some sort of animal that has a reputation for eating its young. "She's always been the best at all that motherly stuff. I know she's known for her fierceness in certain social circles, but I couldn't have asked for a better or more loving mother."
Finally, the bandage and some sort of ointment arrive, and I clean up his hand and stuff an extra couple of band-aids into the tiny clutch, just in case. Then we head into the main ballroom, his hand pressed against the small of my back. I feel like everyone is staring at us, but they're probably all busy staring at each other. Because this is definitely a see and be seen kind of event.
"Well, now that we have the flesh wound portion of the evening out of the way, do you want to dance or get a drink?" he teases.
"Drink, definitely. I don't know if my mother warned you or not, but I'm a terrible dancer. I'm probably going to injure you. So, we should both liquor up beforehand to make sure and numb the pain."
He flashes me one of those overly toothy smiles again. I swear he has some extra teeth in his mouth somehow. "Okay then. Let's go get a glass of punch."
How about no? I meant that I’d like a beer but whatever. If we're going to have to turn this night into a do-over of my prom, then I suppose it was going to have to be punch. Because the only people on earth who drink punch at a dance are high school students. Coincidentally, that’s also the same kind of people who get stuck wearing crappy wrist corsages.
Even the cup he brings me is ridiculous. It's tiny, like a kid's tea party sized beverage. Why even bother? I raise the cup to my mouth and take a sip and almost choke on the amount of liquor that invades my system.
"Holy shit," I gasp out. "I wasn't expecting that."
Hesse laughs and pats me on the back ineffectively trying to get me to stop coughing. "I can tell."
"I think I'd better not drink that, otherwise you're going to end up scraping me off the floor before the night's over."
He takes the cup from me and puts it on one of the nearby tables. "Well if you're not going to drink, did you want to dance?"
I sigh. No, not really. "Maybe we can walk around and say hello to some people first."
He tucks my hand in his elbow and we're off, making small talk with all the upper crust of Valentine. There are approximately a million politicians here, including the town's mayor, Reed Harrington IV.
But standing next to him with her hand wrapped up in his is some pretty girl who seems familiar to me somehow. I give her a second and then a third glance, and then I startle. Holy crap, it's K.T. in a ballgown.
"Hey lady," I say to her in a low voice while the men chat about the upcoming mayoral election. I reach for her and hug her shoulders. "I'm glad to see a friendly face tonight."
"You and me both. I swear, every single man Reed's had to talk to has spent the entire conversation staring at my breasts." K.T. looks down at the bodice of her ballgown in dismay.
"Well, they are pretty magnificent. I mean, you look beyond amazing in that dress K.T." I realize how I sound, but dang. I didn’t even know she had any interest in fancy parties or ballgowns. Maybe she should have gone the debutante route instead of me. Heck, maybe she did. We’ve never really talked about all that growing up stuff. K.T. and I get along because she’s a no-nonsense type of woman like I am. Plus she looks badass in a t-shirt and jeans, just as much as she does in a ballgown with a fancy updo.
She fiddles with her hands and flushes a little bit. Crap, I didn't mean to embarrass her. I only meant what I said to her in a nice way. I'm just so awkward that I can't even be nice to a friend without somehow ruining it, I guess.
She smiles at me, thin lips all shoved together. "Thanks Darcy. You look great too."
I don't though. Not compared to her.
K.T. looks like she's wearing a dress that was made with her in mind. It's long, black-and-chrome colored, and even has one of those lace up corsets.
I look like my mother picked out my dress. And that’s probably because my mother picked out my dress. It’s a little too sugary looking for my tastes, and it’s definitely way too tight. And don’t even get me started about these ridiculous shoes that she convinced me to wear. I should know better than to wear heels, let alone tall, unstable ones that might accidentally stab some unsuspecting man in the foot later.
The only consolation I have right now is that I know she probably feels just as uncomfortable as I do wearing a fancy party dress in this sea of socialites. K.T. is a boots and jeans type of girl right down in her soul the exact same way that I am.
But then Reed grins down at her and all of the sudden the pieces fall into place for me. They are best friends after all, so he's probably dragged her along to keep him company tonight. And everybody knows that Reed Hamilton IV practically shits gold, so he more than likely also had this dress specifically made for her.
I guess I did hear something about the two of them being seen around town together and supposedly dating, but I wasn't giving it too much thought. They've been best friends since before K.T. even moved to Valentine, so I'm used to seeing them together at Riddles.
"Hey Reed, I hope your campaign is going okay," I manage to squeak out in between Hesse's pumping Reed for information about some hedge funds or whatever crap they're talking about.
"Thanks. I appreciate the good wishes." He flashes that pretty boy smile at me, and I watch K.T. as she stomps on his foot.
