chapter 58: The Dinner

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Sether

"Put this one on!" Justin yells at me for the fifth time, holding my white shirt tightly in his hands.

"I'm not putting this on, it's too much," I say with frustration while lacing up my black shoes.

Why I am even doing this? Oh yes, because I'm crazy over Cher, that's the fact. I should be sprawled on my bed, with the hardcover of one of my favorites books in my hands, emerging into another story about life. But instead here I am, dressing up to go to a freaking dinner, with someone whose name I don't even know.

Justin sighs and puts my white shirt on my bed. When he knew that I was invited this evening for a dinner with Cher and her friend, he got so excited as if he was the one who was invited. He didn't asked me much before shoving my wardrobe door open, eagerly eyeing my clothes, he didn't even ask me if perhaps I was okay with going there, not even an; 'are you okay with that?' Nothing... Nada.

"So, what's his name?" He asks as I stand up, walking towards my desk to grab my watch.

"Who?" I ask while fastening the silver object around my wrist.

"The guy who invited you," oh, him. Justin takes a seat on the edge of my bed, smashing my mattress.

"Caveman," I could have kept this one in and said that I have no clue what his name is, but even with Cher's request, I can't stop myself from saying that name.

He starts laughing, gradually rising up and up into a louder laughter. Yeah, funny it is. But it's not really funny when I think about it, because when the name looms in my mind, so does his face and his smile and the images of the two times I encountered him with Cher, it gets less funny, and the fact that he makes her smile is crazy.

"What, his name is Caveman?" He asks when he calms down, mellowing his laughter now.

I look at him, fighting in a smile. My head move from right to left as I make my way towards my wardrobe to grab my perfume.

"Obviously his name isn't Caveman, Justin, I made it up," I tell him. Who would name their child like this? Have to be completely unconscious and dumb.

Once I feel good enough and find nothing else to do with myself, I turn to Justin, putting my arms apart, giving him the view of my whole outfit. He watches from the bed, studying everything perfectly. I don't really need his point of view because it's not a date with Cher, it's rather a calamity I'm about to go through, but I just feels like Justin needs to give something, anything; a judgement. An approval. A modifications. Anything.

"You're good," he says, nodding at me.

"You sure?"

"You just said you didn't care about what you're wearing, what will it change?" He asks and laughs.

I sigh and look away, he can't be nice forever, can he? I just needed another, 'you're good,' but apparently he barely says nice things in long terms.

My mouth was about to tell him what he deserves; curses, but before I can even proceed the words in my head, my phone starts vibrating where it's resting on the nightstand. From where I am, I can literally see Cher's name, she wrote it earlier while we were having breakfast. We both decided it was finally the time for us to exchange numbers, as normal couples do.

Cher you're red sunshine.

Thoughtlessly, a small smile forms on my lips as my eyes rest on the phone screen. That's what she wrote, laughed at it at first, but then she chose it. I remember her eyes going smaller as her smile was going bigger and bigger, her tiny body lying on the huge bed, her face was practically beaming out of love and appreciation. It felt nice.

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