Page 38 of No More Bad Boys
TEN
Friday Night Horror Show
“Why is he picking you up at eleven o’clock at night? This isn’t a booty call, is it?”
Kenley’s face contracts in a worried frown. I’ve asked her to help me do some light makeup for my date tonight, and we’re sitting in her bathroom, facing each other.
As soon as she lifts the mascara wand from my lashes I shake my head. “No. He says there’s something special he wants me to see.”
Her lips purse, and her blonde brows pull together. She reaches into her enormous cosmetics case and retrieves a thin brush and a pot of lip gloss.
“Well, if it turns out to be the inside of his bedroom, I want you to walk right out of there. He should have more respect for you than that.”
“Says the Queen of the Booty Call,” I tease Kenley about her plans to spend the night at Larson’s—again.
She holds up her left hand displaying the rock I couldn’t have missed even if she’d been a half mile away. In a fog bank. At night.
“Hey,he’salready put a ring on it. It’s different. And if it weren’t for the mandatory society wedding with a cast of thousands, we’d be married already. Larson’s more eager for the wedding day than I am. This Blake guy—we don’t know his intentions. Not yet. In fact, I really think I should meet him this time, maybe get a photocopy of his license, before he takes you out on a midnight mystery date.”
“No, Kenley.”
My tone is harsher than I intended, but this thing with Blake is so new, I really want to keep it to myself for now.
“I’m not a fifteen-year-old going out on her first date, and I don’t need you to give him your stamp of approval. You’re starting to sound like Momma.”
Her face instantly contorts into a mask of horror. “Wow. I don’t think you’ve ever said something so mean to me before.”
I’m overcome with guilt. Itwasa mean thing to say, and what’s more, it was motivated not by anything she’s done, but by my own insecurity.
It hasn’t been easy to be the younger sister of someone who’s automatically the prettiest girl in any room, but Kenley doesn’t deserve snarky remarks from me.
Sheisunreasonably beautiful, but she’s also my best friend and she’s been my greatest ally against Momma’s craziness all these years.
Without her, I don’t know what I would have done.
“I’m sorry. I think I’m just tense. But I shouldn’t be taking it out on you. Forgive me?”
She wraps her arms around me. “Of course. And Iwasbeing pushy and nosy. Please do tell me if I ever get like Momma so I can jump off the nearest bridge and spare the rest of the world. I’ll meet your Blake when andifyou’re ready.”
I smile at her. “Thanks. And thanks for the makeup. How do I look?”
She leans back, surveying her handiwork. “Like a million bucks.”
“Well, you should know… Mrs. Overstreet.”
She sticks her tongue out at me and then beams as I leave the bathroom.
At a couple minutes till eleven I go downstairs to meet Blake in the parking lot.
This time I climb into his truck cab before he even has the chance to get out and open the door for me.
“Hi.”
“Hi.” He leans over for a quick peck then back again to check out my look. “You’re stunning.”
My face heats with pleasure. “Thank you. You look nice, too.”
He does. Althoughniceis a pitiful understatement. He’s wearing plaid shorts and a well-fitted expensive-looking t-shirt.
