Page 13 of Hitting the Goal Line
“Because of me. They think we’re together.”
“They what?!” I say a little too loud for the dress store.
I look around to see if anybody heard me, but there isn’t anyone near me and Blake.
“They think we’re together. That’s why they don’t ask you out, but trust me they want to,” Blake tells me but I can’t help butto notice that he sounds mad. No way he feels that way, I must be hearing things that aren’t there.
“Why would they think that?” I give Blake a confused look.
“Why do you think?” he says through a chuckle. “We’re together all the time. I drive you to school, we eat dinner at each other’s houses, and breakfast, we still have sleep overs and we go to every single one of each other’s games.”
When he puts it that way…
I guess doing all that does make it seem to the outside world like we’re together when we’re not. I’ve never even looked at Blake in that way. Hell, I didn’t really notice boys until a year ago. No way was I going to notice if my best friend is cute or not.
As he looks through the dark green dresses, I look at him. Like really look at him.
He is cute, especially with his dirty blond curls sticking out of the baseball hat that he is sporting, and he’s tall and definitely has the body of an athlete since he’s playing hockey like it needs it to breathe. I can definitely see why girls fawn over him, and maybe if things were different and I didn’t spend years smelling his hockey bag, I might feel the same way, but no. There aren’t any butterflies when I look at Blake. Maybe it will change when we get older, but I really hope it doesn’t, because I really like the type of friendship that we have.
“I guess I can see it,” I say, coming up next to him and looking to through the dresses he has already passed. “Maybe we can start telling people that things aren’t like that between us.”
“Maybe,” he says, not even looking at me. All his concentration is on the dresses. “I still think that this is a lot.” He states, coming back to the conversation of why I’m having this quince.
“My dad did offer a trip to Cancun to an all-inclusive resort, but I chose the party.”
Blake slowly turns his face to look at me, his eyes wide and his mouth open. “We could be having the time of our lives in Mexico and you choose to have a party? What the fuck? Who does that? That’s warrants getting your best friend card revoked.”
“Who said anything about you being invited?” I shove him.
“Pshh, please. Your parents love me more than they love you. Of course, I was invited.” He shoves me back. I’m not going to argue with that. They do love him, even if my dad wants to choke him every so often. He calls him the son he never wanted.
“Whatever. Pick a dress already. I’m starving.”
We’ve been at this for hours now. This is our second stop of the day and I don’t know how much longer I can survive off the French toast I had for breakfast this morning.
Blake continues down the line of dress and after about a minute, he stops at one and inspects every inch of it.
He looks from the dress to me and then back and eventually he gives me a smirk and starts pulling the dress off the rack.
“This is it,” he announces proudly.
I roll my eye and give him a smile at the same time. “Finally.”
We head back to the dressing room where my dad is falling asleep in his chair and my mom is talking to the owner of the shop about all the accessories that they offer.
When my mom sees us, she slaps my dad awake and she and the lady go into dressing room with me to help into the dark green dress.
My mom lets out a gasp when she finishes zipping me up and when I hear it, I know that this is it.
This is the dress.
I don’t even have to look in the mirror to know it. But I turn anyway, to give myself that confirmation.
Slowly, I look at myself in the mirror and the second I do, I can’t help but to smile when I see my reflection.
I look so beautiful, even without a single ounce of makeup or with my hair done.
“This is it,” I tell my mom and she gives me a nod.
