70. CELEBRATING

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Arriving back at Beck's house, she turned the truck off and exited the vehicle.

In that moment, Jeremy, who had been holding my hand the entire way back, continued to hold on to my hand, nonverbally indicating for me to wait.

The second Beck's door closed, Jeremy turned toward me and used his free hand to turn my face toward him.

As soon as our faces met he grabbed the back of my head and quickly placed a lingering kiss on my glossy pink lips.

The warm, electric tingling sensation that shot through my body like a bolt of lightning when our lips met, begged me to remain, and I could have stayed right there, like that, for the rest of the day, but I resisted, quickly pulling away.

Breaking the kiss was absolutely the last thing I wanted to do, yet I knew I had to.

I hastily exited the vehicle, leaving Jeremy alone in the back seat, a look of confusion on his face.

I began to head towards my house.

Jeremy jumped out of the vehicle, caught up to me, and began trying to figure out what he had done to make me take off like I did.

"I had a wonderful time today, Carla, and it was pretty obvious you did as well. On the ride home I thought it was a safe bet for me to assume we were on the same page and you would want to go out with me again. What did I do wrong? How did I misinterpret this? Do you not want to go out with me again or...?"

I stopped.

Turning towards him, I dropped my head, cut my eyes upward in his direction, shrugged my shoulders and replied with a coy smile, "Maybe. We'll see."

He saw I wasn't mad or anything and he replied,"Oh com'on, really? That's how it's gonna be? Don't toy with my emotions like this."

"I gotta get ready for dinner with the family tonight," I replied while taking steps backwards. "I'll explain why, later, but right now I can't be seen by my dad, with a boy. It's not you, I promise . . . but, yeah, you're right, I had a wonderful time."

Explain why later?

I had said it, just blurted it out, but what did it actually mean? Would I tell him the truth about me or concoct a story like I had told Beck about having to hide our date because my parents think I'm too young to be dating yet? Which is actually true too.

I continued to ponder this as I headed upstairs to shower and get ready for dinner.

A couple hours later the rest of the family and I were seated at a large, rustic, wooden table in a very popular, crowded local barbecue restaurant, placing our drink orders.

I had on a pretty, new dress Mom had bought for me earlier today. Probably before she found out about my secret date.

The dress mom chose was a light blue, spaghetti strap number with layers upon layers of tulle underneath that made the asymmetrical (mid-thigh length on one side, below the knee on the other) skirt flair out. The dress had a mesh layer over it, with tiny sparkly silver beads.The color, Mom has explained, was periwinkle blue.

She told me the store had the same dress in black, and that's what she started to get before she saw this one. I told her I was glad she chose this one over the black, because it was so pretty, made me stand out, and caught people's attention. Besides, I'm not the kind of girl to wear a lot of black.

She agreed this color was better for this style of dress, but then added that all girls need one, at least one, black dress in their wardrobe. A 'LBD', she called it.

She suggested we might look for one next time we were in the mall.

While everyone decided what they wanted to order, I began to realize mom must not have told dad about my date. In fact, she hadn't said anything to me about it yet, either. I was so sure she'd be mad that I hadn't talked to her first.

She must not be mad at me over it, after all she gave me this dress and talked about taking me to get a LBD.

I sat quietly and observed her as she read the menu. At that moment, even though we'd always had a close mother /son relationship, I began to feel a special connection between us, something quite different from before.

Was this a mother-daughter bond?

No sooner then I had that thought, mom glanced up from the menu. Seeing me looking in her direction, she winked at me with a smile, then went right back to looking at the menu.

Whoa, what was that, I wondered.

It was if she had heard my thought and acknowledged it affirmatively.

Wow was all I could think. I was blown away. In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to be alone with her and talk to her all about my date. I had so many questions I wanted to ask her.

My thoughts were interrupted when the waitress returned with our drinks and prepared to take our order. That's when I realized I still hadn't decided on a meal yet.

"Are we celebrating anything special tonight," the pretty, young waitress, which Dave couldn't take his eyes off of, asked in a bubbly tone as she handed each of us our drinks. "A birthday or anything?"

Dad replied without hesitation, while placing his menu on the table in front of him, "Yes, as a matter of fact we are. It's a long story, but tonight we are celebrating our daughter. Tonight's her night."

"Well then, congratulations Miss...?"

"Carla," mom offered before I even realized the waitress was asking my name.

"Miss Carla. I do hope your entire night is special. I promise to do whatever I can to make that happen. Can I start you guys off with an appetizer?"

"Yeah, if I remember right, your Lobster Rangoon is," dad looked at me and smiled, "Carla's favorite. Bring us a plate of those."

"Excellent choice, my favorite too. I'll have the kitchen throw in extra, since it's a special night. And are you ready to order you main meals?"

We placed our orders and when the waitress left our table, dad began to talk.

He made it clear to the entire family and especially me that he loved me regardless of who I was and that he was fully on board with my decision to live the rest of my life as a girl.

"As long as you never give up on football," he jokingly added.

"He's kidding, honey." mom added. "We do not expect you to continue playing football if you don't want to."

"Excuse me? Um, no, mom. Dad has nothing to worry about. There's no way I'm giving up football."

"Good answer," Dave enthusiastically replied while still  intently checking out our waitress who was now across the room, entering our order into the system.

Dad chuckled, looked at mom, and proudly anounced, "Told you so."

"On, that reminds me," Dave began, finally returning his full attention to the table, but only because our waitress had just disappeared through the door to the kitchen. "Dad talked to the football coach. We start practice on Monday."

My eyes grew wide and I excitedly replied, "What? Don't we have to try out?"

"Nope. Apparently Mr. Miller talked to him and he went ahead and assigned us based on Mr. Miller's recommendation. We're both on the freshman team, but once he sees me on the field he will make a decision whether to move me up to JV or not."

"He knows I'm a girl? That he just put a girl on his team, right?"

"Yeah. However, for now," dad explained, "you probably won't start because of it, but it sounds like the freshman team isn't very strong this year. If that's true, you'll be able to easily show the rest of the guys up and shine as the star player. That'll really help to shape the opinions of the other parents that might be leary of having a girl on the team and ensure you do get to play. Maybe even start."

"I can't wait."

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