Getting The Guy

Chapter 14: What Do You Mean?

Song: What Do You Mean?

Artiste: Justin Bieber 

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The week flies by swiftly.

Most of my week was spent with my anxiety sky high as I feared having an encounter with Dontae.

I haven't seen him. Nor have I heard from him. I tried texting him but he never responded to any of my messages even once. 

My mind was filled with mixed feelings. 

It has now reached the point where I feel like he's purposely avoiding me. For someone who lives next door, it's hard to fathom how he can avoid me so easily.

I tried peeking through my window and into his to see if he's at home a few times but his curtains were closed every time I checked.

Of course I could always call him both over the phone and in real life but each time I attempt to do that, fear grapples my throat and chokes me.

I have seen Sean a few times at school this week though. But we barely say two words to each other.

It's always a brief conversation like "hey" and "bye."

He never asked me to wait on him again after-school since our schedules clashed.

I began contemplating if Sean is still interested in me or if he's interested in someone else because of our lack of social interactions. But his sweet texts every morning since our date always makes me disregard that thought.

I stirred in my bed and sat up lazily. 

A glance at my phone made it clear that it wasn't late. It was only 6:30 am.

I rub my eyes and stretch my arms. 

Slowly, I push my body out of bed and start preparing clothes to wear today. 

I will have to select two outfits. One for now and one for the evening for my date.

Sean had texted me the theme of our date. He said to "wear something fancy."

I have no idea where we're going but I just want to look nice enough for Sean.

Going through my closet makes me smile to myself.

It's so weird how I have suddenly become so good at dressing up that it feels like I have been doing it for years.

My head begins to ache when a harsh memory bombards my brain.

Flashback

"Vannessa Valeria Walters! What are you doing?!"

I giggle when I hear the very high screech.

Only one person could be responsible for that screech.

She stands in the doorway. Shock evident on her face. 

The entire room was scattered with ear rings, necklaces, bangles, t-shirts, pants and ball room dresses.

I was wearing heels that were way too big for my tiny feet and a purple puff sleeve dress that swept on the floor and engulfed my tiny body in a pillowy mess. Bangles of gold, silver and white decorated my arms.

A makeup kit was in my possession and a large makeup brush was in my grasp.

My doll, Mindi, was wearing pink lipstick and blue and black eyeshadow. 

There were specs of blush on her cheeks and hair. And even though now I would say the makeup was borderline clown makeup, Mindi still looked amazing to my six year old self. And I was very proud of my work.