C H A P T E R 41

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Magazines. Articles. Celebrities. Social media. Why am I naming these topics? I have seen sooo many people receive eating disorders, depression and anxiety from these so called enjoyable things.

Don't get me wrong, I myself, use social media and read magazines that are filled with my favorite celebrities, but I can't lie and say that not a single part of me wants to change who I am.

There will always be a little voice in the back of your mind expressing all your flaws and insecurities.

When people look at these "flawless" and "perfect" people and realize that they don't resemble them, it's like the end of the world. Picture a flower in a beautiful meadow and now picture the sun setting; they look nothing alike, yet both are so beautiful. You might not look like your idol, but that is what makes you beautiful.

I never realized how stressful getting ready for a date is. I have been staring at my own reflection for over an hour now and I can't even decide on what hairstyle to go with. Keeping the whole "being yourself" thing in mind, I finally decided to keep it down.

Now, when a guy says "dress nice", does he mean nice causal or nice fancy? Clearly guys need to be more instinct on what the term nice means. Ugh.

After tearing up my wardrobe, emptying a whole tube of concealer m, ruining my room, I think I chose a look that satisfied me. I decided to go casual with a simple blue summer dress with some brown sandals.

If anyone is good at keeping secrets, it's Jake. He hasn't yet told me where we are going and it's making me anxious. I absolutely hate surprises. I have and always will and for my first date, ever... I'd like to at least know where we are going. However, like everyone says, expect the unexpected. And I can't guarantee you, I'm in no way, shape, or form ready for this date. Yet, I'm standing at my front door waiting for the doorbell to make its regulars screeching noise.

***

"So are you going t-"I began.

"Nope," he answered, not letting me finish.

"You don't even know what I was going ask," I puffed, crossing my arms.

"Let me guess, it's along the lines of, where are we going," he replied, smirking.

"So," I smiled, waiting for him to answer.

"I told you no, and you are going to change my mind, love," he winked and continued to drive.

"This is messed up," I whined.

"Are you afraid I'm going to kill you?" He joked.

"I'm not doubting you won't," I replied, riding an eyebrow.

"You caught me, I was planning to kill you in my basement," he sighed.

"I knew it!" I exclaimed.

"Alright Miss Smartypants, close your eyes," he ordered.

"What if I don't want to?" I asked.

"What is I turn around at drop you off at home?" He wondered.

"Closing my eyes now," I immediately covered my eyes with my hands.

"Fantastic," he laughed. "Speed bump!" He screeched as the car jolted in the air.

"You moron!"I shouted, clutching the handle on the car door.

"I prefer the term mentally insane, but moron has a nice ring to it," he stated, parking the car. "Come on slow poke," he rushed.

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