like?”
I slowly nod. “Yeah. It’s not Ryan or Jake, but I like.”
Her smile widens. “I thought you might, and I’m glad. I think you’ll be good together. Hell, if you didn’t want him I’d take him. So, waddaya gonna wear?”
I shrug. “I dunno.”
“Sure you do. You’ve got that great emerald green halter dress with the peek-a-boo slit that shows off your boobs. You look spectacular in it.”
She’s right, it’s my best color and my nicest dress. As for the quick flash it offers of my chest, it should be noted that any male taking advantage of said flash will not be disappointed. However, while I have nice boobs, Roxanne has what boys call a rack. Big difference.
Still, there’s one problem with the outfit. “I do love that dress, but the matching shoes have four inch heels.”
“So?”
“Sooooo, I’ll be a head taller than him. He’ll be looking right into my chest.”
“Hence, the peek-a-boo slit.”
I shake my head and roll my eyes.
“What’s the difference?” she says. “Guys look at your chest when they talk to you anyway, so he may as well be at eye level. Look, I’m taller than just about all my dates and I still wear heels that make me six-four. Besides, those legs of yours should never been seen in flats.”
“Nice compliment coming from a girl they call—”
“Don’t! Say it!” She puts up one finger and glares at me.
“Fine. Anyway, thanks for the heads up. Speaking of the dance, has Ryan—”
“Yeah, and I told him I already had a date.”
“Do you?”
“No, but I’ll ask someone out today.”
God, I wish I could be like her. “By the way, you said if I didn’t want the Pocket Chippendale, you’d take him. Seriously?”
“Sure. Why not?”
“You’d be more than a foot taller in your heels.”
Both eyebrows go up, her eyes fill with lust as she gets this faraway look. “Yeah, but it does present some very interesting possibilities.”
“Slut. So, who you gonna ask out?”
“Don’t know yet.” Roxanne licks her lips as the tall, hunky junior who just transferred here strolls by and smiles at her. He places his tray on the next table so that he’s facing her.
“You’ve got that look. You’re going to confession this weekend, aren’t you?”
She gets up, picks up her tray and starts to head for his table. “Bless me, Father, for I am about to sin.”
***
“Are we going to Jersey again this Saturday?” I ask, as I load the stainless steel dishwasher that matches the other appliances in the kitchen.
“Probably not,” says mom. I can see her putting on her bling in the reflection as she gets ready for her seven o’clock client. “Why?”
“I’ve, uh, got a date Friday night. Didn’t know if I could sleep late Saturday or if I needed to get home early.”
She completely misses the implications of what I asked as a big smile grows. “A date, huh? Ryan taking you out?” Her voice goes up into a happy lilt.
I finish putting the glasses on the top rack, close the dishwasher door and turn it on, then turn to face her. “Unfortunately not, mom.”
She stops adding bracelets and her eyes narrow into a glare. “It’s not that Jake character, is it?” (It should be noted that the previously happy lilt in her voice has morphed into that of Linda Blair in The Exorcist.)
“No, someone you don’t know.”
“Name, age, arrest record.”
Good God. “I’m having the CIA black ops team put together a dossier for you. They should be here any moment. His code name is Falcon.”
“I have a right to know who my daughter might be…cavorting with.”
“Well, I won’t be…cavorting…with a hooligan, if that’s what you’re worried about. In fact I doubt I’ll be doing any cavorting at all.”
She folds her arms and stands up straight. “Watch it, missy. I’m still your mother.”
I exhale and roll my eyes. “Fine. His name is Will Carlisle, he’s a senior, very smart, captain of the wrestling team. Father’s a cop, so he doesn’t get in trouble.”
“Long as he doesn’t get girls in trouble.”
“Give me some credit, mom. I have no desire to push around a cereal covered toddler in Wal-Mart when I’m eighteen.”
“So…a wrestluh?”
“It’s not his career choice, mom. He wants to be a lawyuh in the fyoo-chuh.”
She shoots me a sarcastic grimace at my attempt to mimic her accent. “My daughter, the smartass. But a lawyer is good,” she says, enunciating the word. She gives an approving nod, the demonic voice apparently having been exorcized. “Well, I guess he sounds okay. You like him as much as Ryan?”
“I don’t like anyone as much as Ryan. But Will is nice and I haven’t been on a date in forever and I wanna get dressed up in something besides a cape. Besides, if I wait for Ryan to ask me out I’ll end up like the cat lady down the street.”
“Does this…Will…have any powers?”
“Nope, just a guy. Can’t read the future, can’t unhook my bra with his mind, can’t see the afterlife.”
“Speaking of which…how are you doing with what you saw this weekend?”
“I’m having trouble sleeping. Have you heard anything from The Summit yet?”
“No, but Sebastien told me they would definitely have some news by the end of the week.”
***
I’m pinning my strawberry tangles up on one side, giving me an asymmetrical look. Roxanne’s idea, and I must say I like what I see in the gold-framed mirror that sits atop my incredibly cluttered vanity. The style is very unique. Sorta slutty, but good. Might even keep it for school.
My train of thought is broken as Mom’s voice comes floating gently up the stairs.
“JILLIAN! YOUSE GONNA STAY UP THERE ALL NIGHT FUTZIN’ WIT YOUR HAIR, OR WHAT? YOUR DATE’S HERE!”
I
