Twelve

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ANASTASIA HALL

SEPTEMBER 19, 2020

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I take a deep breath as I inspect myself in the mirror, feeling incredibly nervous but excited for dinner with Harry. I chose an olive dress with a deep-v neckline, and long, puffy sleeves. The dress is shorter, cutting off mid-thigh, and the waist is cinched with a wide piece of fabric.

I've gone through almost every item of clothing I own, overthinking every minute detail.

How much is too much for a casual dinner?

Is it weird that I'm dressing up to meet with my friend?

What if he gets the wrong idea?

I groan loudly, tossing my head back as my frustration builds. I'm making a way bigger deal out of this than I need to, but I can't seem to calm my nerves.

Maybe it's because I'm still trying to get back to normal with Harry, and this is the next step in doing so. We're meeting to discuss grades, but we're also meeting as friends.

Johnathan almost came over tonight, but much to my relief, he ended up having to work late. He has a big case he's working on right now, and he needed to meet with his client as soon as possible to go over the trial that's starting next week.

I don't even want to think about what would happen if he found out about this. He would be livid, to say the least.

I walk over to my bedside table and pick up my phone to check the time. I see that it's nearly seven-thirty, which means I only have a few minutes before I have to leave.

"Shit," I whisper, rushing to the bathroom to find my baby pink lip gloss.

I was so focused on what I was going to wear, that I completely lost track of time.

I swipe the sticky gloss over my lips, rubbing them together to blend it before making my way to my closet to grab my favorite pair of strappy black heels. I sit on my bed to slip them on, buckling the straps tightly, then stand up to walk over to my full length mirror.

I take one last look at myself, chewing nervously on my lip as my mind begins telling me that I'm overdoing it. I roll my eyes at my incessant thoughts, and shake my head at my reflection.

You look fine.

I rush to grab my black purse that's hanging on one of the bronze hooks next to my front door, and quickly repeat my mental checklist before walking out of the door.

Phone? Keys? Wallet? Check.

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I pull up to the address Harry sent me, my eyes widening when I spot a large, concrete building with 'STK' in bright, white letters above the front entrance.

Holy shit.

Harry didn't tell me we were having dinner here.

STK is a high-end steakhouse in Midtown; it's very nice, and very expensive. I've never had the chance to go, it was always too much. Johnathan doesn't like spending a lot of money on our dates. He's always said that it isn't worth it.

I park my car, and make my way to the entrance, feeling more and more self conscious the closer I get. I'm not dressed appropriately for this restaurant, and I'm shocked that Harry chose STK for a friendly work dinner.

I shake my head in frustration when I reach the large glass door, mentally cursing myself for not asking Harry where we were meeting in the first place.

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