Rose Bridges

Thirty nine

Carmen

"Carmen, don't be nervous, you look cute," is what I tell myself as I look in the mirror and adjust my sweater.

It's snowing outside and quite cold, so I'm wearing low rise straight blue jeans that make my butt look very good, along with baby pink ballet heels. Underneath the jeans I put white tights with little pink hearts on them to keep my feet and legs warm.

For my hair, I just left it down and loosely pulled the front two pieces and to the back of my head and tied them with a thin pink ribbon.

For the top though, I have no idea.

I've been staring in the mirror in just my bra for the past ten minutes.

I'm deciding between a skin-tight cream colored cable knit sweater with a low neckline, or a shirt with a cardigan.

I gnaw on my bottom lip and hold the sweater one up to my body, gnawing my lip.

"You know you're just going to have to do." Taking it off the hanger, I quickly throw it on and adjust.

I try to pull the neckline up a bit. It's a bit...booby. But it'll work.

I nervously adjust all my gold jewelry in the mirror and pull my small light pink Dior bag over my shoulder.

"Okay, okay, don't worry. He'll think you'll look cute," I mutter as I flatten my palms over my jeans. "He'll think you look beautiful."

It's a must that I give myself pep talks before I go out.

He's my boyfriend, and it's just a date. But it's not just a date. It's my first date. Our first date.

It feels like I can't help but be nervous.

Plus the fact that I have no idea where we're going.

My phone dings and my heart leaps.

I'm outside, his text reads.

Looking back in the mirror, I lift my chin and pull back my shoulders, sucking in a breath.

My body feels like it's about to melt and my stomach feels like a caterpillar just turned into a butterfly.

Giving myself a nod in the mirror, I turn to the door.

But not before grabbing my pink cardigan and scarf.

~

"Where do you think you're going?" My hand freezes as I reach for the door handle.

Spinning around, I'm met with the face of my father.

He stands there in his robe with a cup of coffee in his hand.

I awkwardly smile. "Out...?"

His lips purse. "With whom may I ask?"

My tongue darts out to lick my lips.

Oh no.

My fingers nervously fiddle with each other. "Uh...with Romero," I respond hesitantly, unsure how he'd feel about me hanging out with a boy.

His eyebrows pinch as he thinks. "How long have you two been dating?" he questions while taking a sip of coffee.

My eyes widen and I feel like a deer caught in headlights.

Would he be upset over me dating him?

What if he stops letting me see him?

Should I lie?