Penelope
“What the heck do I wear?” I wasn’t panicking, not yet. I knew almost everyone except the members of Adrenaline.
Uncle Drew.
He’d been gorgeous.
And then there was Trevor, sexy-as-hell Trevor with his three kids and need to move on.
I’d completely planned on wearing what I’d had on, but after the squirrel incident, I wanted to at least make an effort.
And the way that Drew looked at me, well, quite honestly, it almost stung. I wanted Trevor to look at me that way, and then I mentally slapped myself and realized it wasn’t about me.
It was about his kids.
I was an employee.
But that didn’t mean I couldn’t at least attempt something other than a hoodie.
Dani yawned. “I don’t know, clothes?”
“Did you just yawn your answer?” I narrowed my eyes even though she wasn’t there. “I have twenty minutes.”
“And why are you suddenly so…concerned?” Her voice was way too amused, way too…knowing. Damn her.
“I’m ninety-nine percent sure I have some amount of squirrel feces on my person, that’s why.”
“I call false.”
“Dani.” I huffed and sat on my bed. “Help!”
“Who are we trying to impress?” At least this time she sounded more serious, more willing to help me do whatever the heck I was doing. Which was clothing myself and trying to appear like I had a steady job and knew how to take showers and use a razor.
“Humans. Let’s just leave it at humans. And not the ones of the tiny variety with chocolate on their hands and love in their hearts.” I smiled to myself. “Though I do love those kind too.”
She was quiet and then. “You’ll be a great mom one day.”
“Yeah.” My voice cracked. I didn’t tell her the daunting truth, that not only did you have to have a man, but that the older I got, the more my chances died right along with my eggs. I wasn’t even being dramatic, I was just being honest. I’d been the lucky recipient of HPV in high school, where it turned into the early stages of cervical cancer which meant that after all was said and done my chances of getting pregnant were a stellar five percent during my most fertile times.
Tears welled in my eyes.
I didn’t want to focus on it.
I couldn’t.
Because then I felt sorry for myself, and I resented everything and everyone, including the news whenever I saw someone who abandoned a kid or couldn’t take care of them. I wanted to reach in and hold them close and sob.
“You still there?” Dani asked gently.
“Yeah.” I swiped my cheeks, wondering when I’d started actually crying on the phone. “Maybe I’ll just wear a pair of jeans?”
“Shorts,” she corrected. “Jean cut-offs to be exact, a cute tank with a hoodie since it’s still nice out, and a pair of sandals. You’ll look great. Oh, and do your hair.”
“I do my hair.” I touched the ponytail on my head and winced as I realized most of my hair had pulled out of the actual ponytail.
“You never wear it down,” she said accusingly. “And it’s gorgeous and silky, and if you want to impress adult humans, ones that don’t care that you smell like cheese, you should try that angle.”
“Why do I call you again?”
“Because you love me?”
“True,” I grumbled. “I might be a bit late.”
“Even better!” She seemed amused by this, though I couldn’t understand why unless she was banking on me tripping on my own feet and landing face down on someone’s crotch. One time that happened. Friends and family never let me live it down. “See you soon!”
“Yeah.” I hung up and stared down at my cut-off jean shorts. At least I’d already showered. “Well,” I said to myself. “Here goes nothing.”