“If you’d hold still, we’d have been done a while ago. Now shush and let me finish.”
Pressing my lips in a tight line, I do as she says. The makeup brush is tickling me as she applies something—blush or maybe bronzer—on my cheeks.
“Here.” Sienna takes a step back and gives me another once-over before nodding. “Have a look.”
Getting out of my chair, I go to my wardrobe and look in the floor-length mirror that’s attached to the door.
“Oh…”
I almost don’t recognize myself. I’m a jeans, t-shirt, and hoodie kind of girl. Various leotards I have for my dance classes are the girliest pieces of clothing I wear, so that in itself should say something. But for today, Sienna helped me pick out a skirt—yes, a freaking skirt—to wear. I drew the line when she wanted me to pair it with pantyhose. It’s frigging December in New York, there is no way I’m walking around half naked. So I paired it with black leggings, a sweater, and boots. She curled my hair and did my makeup. It’s light, nudes and browns to match my emerald eyes and auburn hair. Just a swipe of mascara and some reddish lip gloss.
“You like?” Sienna asks, putting her hands on my shoulders as she looks at my reflection in the mirror.
“It’s really pretty. I like that it all looks really natural.”
“We don’t want to give J.D. a heart attack just yet.”
We both giggle at that. I could clearly see J.D.’s stupefied face if I ever decided to dress and put on makeup like some of the girls who go to my school.
“What are you two plotting right now?”
Our laughter dies and in unison we turn toward the doorway. J.D.’s leaning against it, baby Wren tucked under his arm like a football. He’s looking at us with curiosity, his brows raised. “Well? Cat got your tongue?”
Sienna snaps out of it first, and joins the two of them, fussing about Wren for a moment. “We were just having some girl time.”
“Girl time, huh?” He turns to me and gives me a long look, finally noticing what I’m wearing. “Am I missing something?”
“I…” I stammer, and stop, unsure of how to proceed.
Sienna assured me it’d all be okay, and to leave it all to her, but it somehow feels wrong. Shouldn’t I be the one to tell my brother I’m going on a date, instead of hiding behind her?
But before I can even open my mouth, she spills. “Grace is going on a date.”
“Sienna!”
“What?!” Both J.D. and Sienna yell in unison, their loud voices waking up the baby.
Not missing a beat, Sienna takes Wren from J.D.’s arms—since my brother seems like he’s glued to the spot—and starts cooing soothingly to him.
“I would have told him,” I protest.
J.D. finally snaps out of whatever spell he’s been under. “She can’t go out on a date, she’s too young.” Then my brother turns to me and points his finger at me. “You can’t go out on a date.”
The arrogance in his tone pisses me off. I knew this wouldn’t go well. I love my brother, but I hate when he’s acting like he’s the boss of me. I’ve been through more shit in my life than he can even imagine. All on my own. If I want to go on a date, who’s he to stop me?
“I’m not a baby, J.D.” I cross my arms over my chest, giving him a determined glare.
His features soften, if only slightly, his tone growing gentler. “But you’re my little sister, and you’re too young to go out on dates.”
“I’m fifteen years old!”
“Exactly.” He lets his arms fall back against his sides. “You have at least ten more years until you can even think of dating.”
Ten years? Is he insane?
“Ugh… You’re driving me crazy!”
“Jack.” Sienna stands between the two of us, her attention on my brother. “Don’t act like a dick.”
Her tone is so matter of fact I want to snort, but I hold it in.
He puffs out his chest as his narrowed gaze lands on his wife. “Are you for real?”
“Of course I’m for real,” Sienna scoffs. And if her hands weren’t full I know she’d flip her hair too. “Grace is a fifteen-year-old girl. It’s normal that she thinks about boys and dates.”
“She’s too young.”
“She’s here and can hear every word you say,” I grit out in frustration, irritated that they’re talking about me like I’m invisible.
“Whose idea was this even?” J.D. glares at the two of us.
“Mine,” I say firmly, stepping forward. Sighing, I look at my brother and say in all honesty, “I really like him, J.D.”
I’m not sure if it’s the look on my face or the way I say it, but J.D.’s whole demeanor softens, if only for a moment. Then his tough guy face is back on. “Who’s the guy?”
“His name is Mason. He goes to the community center too, usually plays basketball with the guys.”
He nods, although his lips are still pressed in a tight line. “I hope you told him to come and pick you up.”
I nod.
“Good.” He nods once, and then turns away.
“What’s he doing?” I look at Sienna in question, at which she shrugs.
“I’m going to find a baseball bat,” J.D. calls out from down the hallway. “I’m sure there has to be one somewhere around here.”
By the time the doorbell rings a while later I’m a mess. I push my hair behind my ears, only to let it slip loose once again. “You don’t think J.D. was serious about the bat, do you?”
“The jury is still out. After all, you’re his little sister. His only sister really.”
I’m not sure if I should be happy or worried she isn’t trying to bullshit me.
“I think he’s thanking God right about now that you guys don’t have girls.”
“There’s still time.” Sienna winks playfully as we descend the stairs. “It would serve him right, though.”
“He’s not that bad.” I try to defend him; he’s my brother after all, although sometimes, as Sienna so eloquently pointed out, he acts like a complete dickhead.
“No, he’s not bad. He’s worse. He was a total player, you know. So he doesn’t really have any right to judge.”
“TMI, Si.” I feel my cheeks blush. Apart from a hint here and there I don’t know the details on how J.D. and Sienna met. And I don’t think I want to know them.
She chuckles but the sound dies as we hear the front door open, followed by J.D.’s voice from the foyer. “You must be Mason.”
Just by the sound of it I know he has his I’m-a-badass-football-player face on. The one he wore on the field when he was staring down his opponents.
“Yes, sir,” Mason says in a cool and collected voice. Not a trace of nerves there. “I’m here to pick up Grace for our date.”
My nerves prickle when I hear the word date. Warmth spreads through my body. It’s still surreal, knowing that all of this is happening, that it’s actually real.
Mason is here to pick me up. For a date.
Butterflies in my stomach feel like a stampede, as my heart thumps loudly to the beat of the drum only she knows.