Measuring Up

“Well—”

“Oh, I know! I’m thinking bangs, layers around your face and some honey colored highlights. You don’t want blond with your dark hair. That screams trashy.”

Why did she ask me if she didn’t even plan to hear my answer?

What did I get myself into? I’m really not feeling the whole layer thing. I like how my hair is now. All one length, no bangs, and resting on my shoulders. Layers only mean I’m going to have to do something with it every day, but instead of saying that, I agree with her. “Sure. Whatever you think.”

“You’ll love it, A

That stings. Is that me? Am I the plain girl she’s talking about? I know the answer to that question. Tegan likes my eyes and so do I. They match hers. I wonder if she’s ever even noticed. “Cool.”

After our nails are done, it’s onto the hair. I watch as short black strands fall to the ground, both hopeful and irritated at the same time. Why didn’t I speak up if I don’t want my hair layered? But…what if it looks good? I shouldn’t shoot down “options” before I test them out, right?

Mom’s giddy as they dye and cut my hair. Me? I’m not really sure how I feel. I’m faced away from the mirrors on Mom’s suggestion, not seeing makes it worse

on my already overactive nerves.

“All done!” They turn me around and I freeze. It doesn’t look bad. Actually, it looks kind of good. It just doesn’t look like me.

“What do you think? Isn’t it gorgeous, A

“Yeah…gorgeous. Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure. Aren’t you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.” But I’m not. I’m not sure at all. I feel strange… different. That’s normal, I think. Anytime you do something different, it must feel like this.

Then I think of Tegan. I know it’s stupid, but what’s he going to think? Am I trying too hard? Is he going to see right through it? Ugh. I hate this! But I don’t have much time to contemplate it. A minute later Mom is dragging me out the door and clothes shopping.

much time to contemplate it. A minute later Mom is dragging me out the door and clothes shopping.

“Mom, dresses really aren’t my thing.” I try to tell her as she looks through the rack.

“Not all dresses, no. But there are some that work wonders, A

My heart drops. I didn’t mean they don’t look good on me. I meant I don’t like them.

“This whole shop is for women like you. I promise, you’ll be so happy when we’re done.” She touches my cheek. It’s the first time she’s touched me like this in

forever. “You’ll be pretty.”

I’ll be pretty. Because I’m not now. I try to smile. “Thanks, Mom. You’re the best.”

And then we finish our mother/daughter day. I think it’s the only one we’ve ever had that she’s enjoyed.

***

On my way to the gym to meet Tegan, I change. I already feel like my insides are going to explode from nerves that I have to at least be comfortable in my

clothes. I can’t do much about the hair, but the clothes are going.

Off goes the skirt for a pair of khaki capris. I cover up the tank top with a button up shirt that reaches my elbows. I feel like I’m jacked up on some kind of upper drug I’ve never taken. Make sense? Okay, I know it doesn’t, but I can’t explain it any other way. I’m twitchy, on edge as excitement and nerves fight to see which one will take me over.

The second I kill the engine in my BMW and look up, I feel like I’m going to puke. Tegan stands there waiting for me and he’s gorgeous. More gorgeous than

any other time I’ve seen him, if that’s possible. Like always, he’s wearing shorts. These are black, hanging mid-knee like they always do. White socks, black and white Nikes, a white t-shirt with button up shirt over his too, though I’m sure his is more for hotness reasons rather than fear of arm flab.

His slightly wavy hair is wet, like he got out of the shower right before coming. In his hand is a smoothie cup, which makes me want to laugh, but I can’t because I can’t get over how good he looks. His eyes are on me, and those masculine plump lips are stretched into a smile. The jerk. He knows I’m looking and I immediately cast my eyes down. My foot itches to push down on the accelerator, to run while my heart is fully intact, before I fall too much, but I don’t. I’m tired of missing out and if he wants me here, even just for this one date, I’m staying. I deserve this.

I get out of the car and step onto the sidewalk in front of him. The pulse in my ears drowns out the traffic speeding down the street. Yeah, I’m so gone. “Hey.”

He doesn’t reply for a minute, reaching out and fingering my hair. The strands slip through his fingers and brush my cheek. It’s almost like he’s touching me and I shiver. “What did you do, A

Embarrassment weakens my determination from a few seconds ago. I wring my hands together. “Color my hair? You know it’s when—” Tegan cuts off my

attempt at sarcasm.

“I know what you did, smart-aleck. It looks nice, it’s just. I don’t know, different. I’m not complaining. You look pretty, I just want to be sure you did this because it’s something you want, not because of our date or something.”

“You’re such a flirt. Quit calling me pretty,” is what comes out of my mouth when what I really want to say is, can you please repeat that? Like ten times. Thanks.

“You do that a lot, deflect compliments like that. I mean, if you wanted to call me pretty, I’d be glad to hear it. Okay, maybe not pretty, but sexy. You want to call me sexy, don’t you? Admit it.” He’s got that mischievous smile on his face and I’m at a loss for words. He always finds a way to steal them from me. Which I think is the point. I try and deflect compliments and I think he’s trying to deflect my nerves. I melt a little more inside.

“Seriously though. It’s pretty, but I liked it before too.”

Thump. Thump. Thump. It’s hard to think over the sound of my heart. “Thanks. It was my mom’s idea. She likes playing makeover Barbie with me. I finally let

her.”

“Hmm.” He crosses his arms. “Next time, tell her you’re fine the way you are.” Then he grabs my hand, twining our fingers together in a way that shoots sparks

up my arm and down my chest. “Come on, we’re burning daylight. I’m ready to have some fun. I need it today.”

It makes me think something happened, but I don’t ask. If he wants to tell me, he will.

Once he closes the passenger door for me, I do a little giddy dance inside. There’s nothing wrong with being an independent woman, but there’s also nothing

wrong with a guy going the extra mile. Not that I have a lot of experience in the situation, but I digress. Once he closes my door and gets in, Tegan turns to me. “So, I was thinking the fair because…well, because I’m obsessed with rides, but then my know-it-all mom brought up the fact that I don’t know if you do rides or not. I told her all I had to do is challenge you and you’d do it, but then I figured that might not be the best thing for our first date.”

I love this side of him so much. Love how he’s so much more relaxed around me lately. And somehow, I’m the same around him. “Hey! What is that supposed to

mean?”

“Nothing bad. Just that you’re determined. If you think someone doesn’t believe you can do something, you’re going to.”

“And how do you know that?”

He raises his eyebrows. “Because I’m good?”

And cocky. “Try again.”

“Because that’s how I get you to do what I want at the gym.”

“Whatever.”

“We’re getting off track here. My second thought was the zoo because, well… nobody goes to the zoo anymore.”

The unease in my belly has started to lift and I’m falling deeper into the comfort that Tegan brings. Plus, could he have picked cooler things to do for our date?