02: Preparation

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All I could do was stare, wide eyed, mouth agape in disbelief. This couldn't be real, yet there he stood sporting a white tee beneath his taupe zip-jacket, black jeans and all white air forces. Casual, but it suited him well. He looked good for a thirty-year-old man. I notice his ears are pierced - he always wanted ear piercings - two square cut diamond studs in each ear. His hair was cut short in waves, streaks of gray in both his hair and his short stubble.

My face burns hot in embarrassment, remembering that I was still in my black and gray plaid pajama bottoms and an old oversized t-shirt from college, a pair of black Nike slides on my feet. My hair was still wrapped and covered in a scarf. I start to panic. I wish my fight-or-flight would kick in but I couldn't move; I was frozen - the lesser known or talked about phenomena. I stare, hoping the floor would open up and swallow me.

He tugs at his ear, a nervous habit I see he's kept all these years, and forces a laugh. "Is it inappropriate to ask for a hug?" His arms are opened wide.

"N-no," I find myself saying, but I stand my ground. Awkwardly, he wraps his arms around me and I'm engulfed with the scent of his woodsy cologne. I inhale, hugging him back. He's warm.

"I can't believe it's really you," he says, his chin resting on the top of my head. I released the breath I didn't realize I was holding and nodded, burying my face deeper into his chest. It's really you, I thought to myself, squeezing my eyes shut, holding on to him tighter.

***

Malcolm invited me to dinner, and I think it was a surprise to both of us that I agreed to join him. I remember his smile and the excitement in his voice. "Okay! Yeah; I look forward to it. It's nice seeing you again, T."

I fidget with the ring on my finger, suddenly feeling nervous all over again. It's been hours since our encounter in the grocery store, but I can't stop my mind from replaying that moment. Teagan? I hear his voice and my heart beats erratically. I reimagine his face, his attire, and the smell of his cologne, and I feel weak in the knees. I feel like I'm 14 again.

I stare down at the ring on my finger and feel a pang in my chest. It feels like a lifetime ago since he's given me this thing. Does he still have his? Does he even remember giving me mine?

I choose not to dwell on that thought.

I move across my bedroom to the closet and begin searching through my clothes. What should I wear? It's not a date, so I shouldn't try too hard, but I thoroughly embarrassed myself this afternoon. I have to make up for that. More importantly, I want to look nice for him.

My mind jumps to the eighth grade dance. My boyfriend at the time, Adrian Brown, had stood me up, leaving me alone without a date. I complained to Malcolm about it and he offered to fill his place; secretly, I was excited to be on an unofficial-kind-of-official date with Malcolm. I was nervous as we stood outside the double doors of the gym hand in hand. "You look good in red," he told me, giving my hand a squeeze. "Ready to go in?"

I blush at the memory, my hand coincidentally stopping at the little red dress on the hanger. I pulled it out of the closet, holding it over my body as I stared at myself in the full body mirror hanging on the back of my room door.

The dress was nothing fancy. It was a red, strapless dress that fell a little past my knees. I quickly undressed trying it on, struggling to shimmy it past my thighs. Do you step into your dresses or pull them over your head? Either way, it was tight. I stare at my reflection, my breast immediately catching my eye. "I... don't think this is appropriate." I peel off the dress.

I search my closet for something else. I decided on a cream-colored, turtleneck top with short sleeves, and a pair of black, high waisted skinny jeans. I brush my hair back into my signature low bun, then apply some lip gloss. I then slip into my black wedge boots, shoving my phone and house keys into my front pocket.

It was a quarter to eight.

I checked my appearance one more time, unsure about my choice. Was it too much? Too little? I bit my lip, staring for a long while before deciding it was fine. I looked good. At the last minute, I grab my cardigan - in case it's cold in the restaurant - and drape it over my forearm.

I exit my room and descend the stairs. At the bottom I shout, "Morgan, I'm heading out. Don't stay up all night, okay. Call me if you need anything."

"'Kay! Be safe." Her voice echoes from somewhere in the house.

I exit my home, locking the door behind me before heading to my car. Once inside, my phone chimes. I pull it out of my pocket, reading the notification; it's from Malcolm.

I'm @ the restaurant. Here's the address.

My phone chimes again. I copy and paste the address into Google Maps. And before I can back out of the driveway, my phone chimes again.

I'm glad u agreed to dinner with me (: C u soon

I exhale a shaky breath, gripping the steering wheel. "Oh gosh. This is so surreal."


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word count: 958
total: 2,691

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