"Dad's gone," my cousin's voice was barely above a whisper. "You must come home for the Evaluations," she uttered and the phone line went dead.
*****
After Keri's Uncle - the Alpha of the Silver Bullets pack - loses his battle with cancer, the young...
It took me forever to write and upload this chapter, so, to make it up to you, I'm going to start a little game. Everyone who enters could win a chapter dedication from You Are the Answer, We Are the Answer or Sentiments & Reason - the winner picks.
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I was fussing.
I'd already tried on a bunch of shirts and pants and I was currently in the process of disrobing yet again.
Why was I so antsy about the dinner at Kelly's, I wasn't sure. Even if I had been wrong and she was indeed trying to play matchmaker, I had no reason to be anxious about what I wore, especially since I did not want to be matched with a hypothetical aunt of hers like the one that I'd made up this morning.
As a matter of fact, it might've been prudent that I went over to her house looking intentionally disheveled so it would be easier to repel any potential middle-aged relations of hers.
And yet, I put on another shirt - why was I even bothering with something as formal as a shirt? - and went to check myself out in the mirror over my bathroom sink.
I had a scowl on my face, but otherwise, I looked presentable in my white shirt and with a freshly combed hair. I couldn't see in the tiny mirror if my dark brown pants fit me well and probably for the first time in my life, I regretted not having a full-length mirror.
I shook my head, the frown lines on my face deepening.
What did it matter?
It would only be me, Kelly, Steve and maybe Keri.
My hand darted to smooth my hair further.
I don't need to get dressed up for such a small party, I thought, but I pulled on the hem of my shirt, straightening any potential wrinkles. It's not like I'm going on a date or anything.
My gaze fell to my belt buckle; was it too big?
Did it look like I was trying too hard?
"Of, for the..." I growled and stomped out of the bathroom.
What the Hell is wrong with me? I wondered as I poured myself a whiskey. Double. No rocks. Two gulps and it was gone.
I reached for the bottle again and cussed at myself.
I had to leave any moment now and I was drinking. Great. What if I got pulled over?
I pushed the bottle away and put the glass in the sink.
Socks.
Socks were a good idea if I was visiting someone's home. My annoyance with my bizarre behavior didn't diminish as I rummaged through my drawler, pulling out and then on each of my feet my newest pair of socks.
