Where the Road Takes Me Page 58
I followed her gaze just as the girl walked into a wall.
“Oh my God,” she said again. Then, through a laugh, “That girl was so busy checking you out, she didn’t even see a wall right in front of her!”
I took her hand, and we walked to the ice-cream truck.
“I bet you’re used to it, huh? Girls looking at you. God, I feel so average right now.”
I dropped her hand and the boards. “Chloe.” I stood in front of her and made sure she was looking at me. “Don’t ever talk like that about yourself. Ever.” I was beyond serious, and my tone let her know.
She frowned. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry.” I released a breath and tried to calm down. “I just hate when you look down on yourself.”
She tried to smile. “You need to give me a break. I’m an eighteen-year-old girl, and you’re my first boyfriend . . . and you just happen to be stupidly hot. So what if I get petty and jealous?” She shrugged. “I’m allowed. I bet if a guy looked at me like that, you’d probably feel the same.”
I let her words sink in before speaking. “A, if a guy looked at you in any way, I’d probably beat his ass. B, I didn’t know I was your boyfriend.”
Her eyes went wide. “I just assumed—”
“Good,” I interrupted. “Assume away, girlfriend.”
I felt her release her grip on my shirt as I skated us back to the hotel. I quickly turned around, hoping she hadn’t stacked somehow. With Chloe’s coordination, I never knew. She had one foot on the ground, the other on the board, her gaze fixed through a window and into a store. I flicked the board up and held it as I walked over to her. “Chloe?”
She didn’t respond.
I followed her gaze into the store; it was a clothes store full of formal wear. Her brow furrowed as she watched a group of girls talking and laughing, dressed in what looked like prom attire. “It’s a little late for prom,” I said.
“I don’t know,” she said quietly. She frowned and looked down at the ground. “I’ve never been to a prom.”
“Yeah? That’s not surprising.”
She looked up at me. “What do you mean?”
I shrugged. “You’re not exactly the prom type. I just don’t see you getting your hair done and getting all dressed up to spend a night out with your friends, you know? You didn’t even really have friends.”
She nodded, but her frown deepened and tears started to fill her eyes.
“What’s wrong, babe?”
She shrugged. “I guess regrets are useless in times like these.”
“You want to go to prom?”
“No,” she said quickly, shaking her head. “I’m just being stupid. Let’s go.”
She pushed off the ground and attempted to skate away, but I grabbed on to her arm to stop her. “Wait here, okay?”
She started to speak but I was already stepping into the store.
I made my way over to the girls, who smiled warmly when they saw me coming. “Are you girls going to prom?” I asked them.
They nodded in unison. “Kind of,” one of them said, stepping forward. “It’s not a school one. We kind of just organized it because we all go to small schools and didn’t really have a decent prom. Plus, all our boyfriends are in college and couldn’t make it, so we’re just having a big ol’ fake one in my barn.” She paused for a beat and eyed me curiously. “Why?”
I smiled. “My girlfriend, Chloe,” I pointed to her watching us from the other side of the store window. Their smiles widened. “She’s never been to a prom. You think you might be able to make room for two more?”
“That’s so sweet,” one of the other girls said.
“I’m Jasmine,” the girl hosting the prom said. “Send your girlfriend in. We’ll take good care of her. I promise.”
I couldn’t help but grin. “What time does it start?”
“Eight.”
“Perfect.”
I headed back out and dragged Chloe into the store. The girls introduced themselves, all while Chloe stood by awkwardly, almost shyly.
“You’ve never been to prom?” Jasmine asked her.
Chloe just shook her head. Jasmine clapped her hands. “This is going to be so much fun.”
Chloe looked up at me, chewing her lip, her eyes unsure.
“I’ll pick you up at your room at seven thirty.” I kissed her cheek and walked out before she could protest.
A half hour later she texted me: All these girls jog. You know what that means, right? It was nice knowing you, Blake Hunter.
Chloe
The girls weren’t serial killers, like I’d first suspected. They were actually really nice. I was afraid they’d be a bunch of Hannahs, but I was so wrong. It didn’t take me long to find a dress, and once I had, the girls helped with the shoes and accessories. I was the first to admit that I was way out of my element. Jasmine’s mom owned a salon two doors down from the clothes store and was able to fit me in last minute to get my hair, nails, and makeup done. It had been awkward at first, but then I decided to let myself have this one moment, before it was all over.
Later, I kicked my legs back and forth as I sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for Blake to knock on the door. My light-purple dress shifted with each kick. I looked at the alarm clock on the nightstand. He would be there any second. My palms sweat from the nerves that were wreaking havoc in my mind. It felt like a first date, or what I assumed a first date would feel like.
I exhaled loudly, stood up, and started pacing the floor, then I went to the bathroom and checked my hair, now formed into loose curls, which cascaded down my shoulders. I checked my makeup, and then I started pacing again. I did this four more times before there was a knock on the door.
“Shit.” I brushed my hands down my dress and checked in the mirror again, then I swallowed my nerves, placed a hand on the door handle, inhaled and exhaled a few calming breaths, and finally opened the door.
He was wearing a tux, perfectly fitted to his broad shoulders. He held a white corsage in one hand, the other hand in his pocket. His head was bent, looking down at the ground. Then, slowly, his gaze started to move up. My entire body heated up as his eyes kept trailing higher until they finally landed on mine.
He blew out a forceful breath and shook his head slowly. “I didn’t think it was possible for you to become more beautiful, but I was so wrong, Chloe.”