Free Whitney by Jade Parker Page A

teardrop stone hung downward and was caught in a silver oval.
    “It’ll look great with your new outfit,” she said.
    I stared at her. I didn’t know what to say.
    “Are you giving this to me?” I asked, dumbfounded.
    “I’m letting you borrow it. I got it when we went on vacation in New Mexico last year. I bought it from an artist at a little sidewalk stand. It’s one of a kind. Trust me. You’ll look hot.”
    Caitlin and I had always had this sort of love-hate relationship going. I really didn’t know what to make of her gesture. It was taking our relationship to another level, one I’d never experienced. “I’ve never borrowed anything.” If I needed it, I bought it.
    “Well, now you have. That’s what friends do. Swap things.” She got out of the car and then looked back in, wiggled her eyebrows. “Text us if he kisses you.”
    Then she was gone.
    Text them? I leaned back and smiled. I’d call them.
    *  *  *
    Caitlin was right. The necklace was perfect.
    I wasn’t. My hair didn’t want to settle into place properly. The mascara kept leaving behind little black dots because I blinked before my eyelashes were dry. And Aunt Sophie, almost as nervous as I was about the date, came in to check on me, caught me using her makeup, and ordered me to wash it all off.
    “But Aunt Sophie —”
    “No arguments. You look like a Cirque du Soleil performer.”
    I hated to admit that she was right. I had applied it a little heavily. But then, this was my first real date. I wanted to be beautiful. I wanted Jake not to take his eyes off me. If he still thought of me as a buddy, I wanted him to think of me as something more.
    Aunt Sophie stood like a prison warden, arms crossed over her chest, making sure I did what she’d ordered. After I finished drying my face, she said, “Sit down.”
    I looked at her. She pointed to the small bench in front of my vanity. I did as she ordered. She came over and started messing with my face, applying a little rouge and mascara.
    “These aren’t really the right shades for you,” she said. “Wait another year, when you’re just a little bit older, and we’ll go makeup shopping.”
    She was brushing powder over my face. “Do not tell your dad that I let you walk outof the house in makeup.” She leaned back and smiled. “What do you think?”
    I looked in the mirror. It didn’t look like I was wearing makeup, and yet it did. “Perfect.”
    She was standing with me in the foyer when Jake’s big black truck rumbled into the drive. With a small leather tote over my shoulder, I headed outside. Aunt Sophie followed. She gave Jake all kinds of rules: home by ten thirty, no crazy driving, and no bad behavior that might cause my dad to get out his shotgun.
    “My dad doesn’t have a shotgun,” I mumbled later as I buckled up after Jake got back behind the wheel.
    Jake grinned. “That’s good to hear.”
    His teasing made me wonder if he was planning on some bad behavior. Did I want him thinking about behaving badly? I was pretty sure that I didn’t.
    Jake was wearing a baseball cap, a maroon T-shirt, and jeans. I didn’t think he’d goneto nearly as much trouble as I had to get ready. I felt a little silly, maybe even a little overdressed. This was a date, right? Or were we just friends hanging out?
    Had he asked me out because he felt sorry for me? Because Lisa had yelled at me? I just didn’t know what to think. I was back to being unable to accurately define our relationship.
    On the way to the baseball field, we talked about the water park and the insanity of the birthday parties. I told him about some of the plans for the luau.
    “Your friend will be impressed that you’ve thought of all these things to make her birthday special,” he said.
    I scoffed. “Yeah, right. Besides, I don’t plan to let her know I was involved.”
    “Why not?”
    “I just don’t want her to know I’m there.”
    I guess he heard in my voice that I didn’t want to talk about it.