Summer Sanders is going through it. The pressures of school are mounting, and her home life is completely falling apart. Feeling bored and lonely on a Saturday night, she decides to get buzzed and surprise her hookup buddy with her best lingerie. Th...
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WITH ALL THE tasks I needed to complete for this charity night, including finding a date and getting a suit, I never expected my biggest challenge to be figuring out how to tie a dumbass piece of fabric around my neck.
This is the fifth time I've attempted this, and even with two YouTube tutorials, I can't get it down.
With frustrating spilling over, I aggressively tug it loose, throwing it towards the back of my truck. Maybe if my dad took some time away from his precious work to teach me a thing or two about this stuff.
My watch flings off my wrist from the action, due to the broken strap I keep forgetting to fix. I barely wear it anyways—the overpriced thing. It was a gift I received after graduation from my doting father who obviously doesn't know me enough to know I hate watches, but what could I say? Especially when he handed it to me with a smile and pat on the head. I had to take the crumbs I could get.
I pick the watch back up, quickly readjusting the straps to hope it'll stay on better. I'm already running later than the time I set for myself. I shouldn't have practiced so late into the day, I know that now. My hair isn't fully dry and I didn't even get the chance to iron my shirt.
When the truck warms up, I waste no time shifting the gear and rushing out of the parking lot.
I can't wait till this damn night is over.
Summer said she was ready. She even insisted she'd been ready for hours when I called the second time just to make sure. I really hope she's telling the truth or else she's going to have to come out at whatever stage her preparation is at.
She looked less than enthusiastic about tonight, so I wouldn't be surprised if minimal effort was put into it.
She can wear whatever makes her comfortable. I already told her the dress code, so as long as it's formal, it should be fine.
I park at a spot outside of her dorm hall, sending her a quick text to announce my arrival. She shoots one back letting me know she's on her way down, so now it's the waiting game.
I take a breath, tapping my fingers against the steering wheel, before realizing I should probably meet her at the door.
My mother's words play back in my head. "I want my son to be a gentlemen. A nice, proper, gentlemen."
I'm no saint, but I try my best. I want to make her proud, even beyond the grave.
I position myself against the wall by the entrance to wait.
The weather is surprisingly warm for a February, with a chilly breeze that hits every once in a while.
And Summer still isn't here yet. She said she was on her way, how long does it take to walk down from her room?
We're gonna be late. I take my phone back out to call her again, when the sound of heels clicking against the pavement gets my attention.
"Please tell me you were not about to blow up my phone again."
