Chapter Five

Two weeks had gone by since the dinner, and I haven't thought about the "incident" or the person involved in the incident since that night. School started to pile on the work, and on top of that, I had a part-time job. My life was pretty stressful to say the least. It consisted of nothing but studying and the Sewickley Cafe. But I'll admit it-I needed a break, just for one night. And the break presented itself in the form of a hockey game.

After studying for an intense 2 hours, I glanced at the clock-12:30 P.M. Ok, enough studying for me today. I turned on the TV and channel surfed until I landed on TLC and watched A Baby Story.

"Hey," Paula greeted me as she walked in.

"What's up?" I responded.

"Ehhh, just a bit exhausted. Professors are a bunch of asswipes."

"Yeah, don't I know it."

"But I get a break tonight. Got any plans?"

"No, why?" I asked in curiosity.

"Good-you're going to the Pens' game with me tonight!"

"How'd you get tickets?"

"All thanks to Max."

"So, what's the deal with you two? Are you official or just screwing around?"

"We're more on the way to becoming official. There's something different about him, something that I can't exactly figure out, but I know it's good. It's just I have never felt this way before, and I like it...a lot!"

I was shocked at this. She has never even thought of settling down with anyone before.

"Good-I'm happy for you."

"Oh, and one more thing..."

"...What?"

"Sidney knows you're coming. So dress nice." What?!

"Ok, you're TOTALLY joking right now, right?"

"Umm, no. I talked to him today after Max told me he got the tickets. He's excited to see you."

"UGHHHH!!! I hate you right now."

"Naw, ya love me!" So I wasn't really that mad at her. A little part inside of me actually wanted to see Sidney tonight. I just hope that I don't embarrass myself in front of him. Then I might just fall over and die. While Paula was deciding on her outfit, I trotted to the bathroom and took a long, hot shower, and it was just what I needed. I put on my white robe and wrapped my damp hair in a towel. I exited out and made my way to my closet. What does she mean by nice? I asked myself. I stood there, puzzled as ever. As if on que, my savior came in and rescued me.

"It looks like you need help there, missy."

"No! Really?" I said in a sarcastic tone.

"Talk to me like that, and I won't be this nice anymore," she joked.

Twenty minutes later, my outfit was decided. I chose a light grey cashmere sweater with black leggings and a pair of grey pumps. I let my hair out of the towel and blow dried it a little, spritzing it with some hairspray, then crunching it. I did my own makeup this time, with the help of Paula, of course. I did a pretty good job. I just thank God that cover-up was invented. Boy did I screw up a couple of times! A half hour later, we were ready and out the door to what could be a perfect way to spend my Saturday night or the worst night of my life.