Cal: You know what?

Cal: Fuck it. I’m coming.

Cal: What time should I pick you up?

To: grevkeller0143@state.edu

From: cal.thompson04@smu.il.edu

Subject: Douchebaggery

Grey. I don’t think you can begin to comprehend the level to which I’m getting harassed over here for missing this match to come to a dance. Some bastard put tampons in my locker yesterday, and today the ugliest prom dress was hanging from the wakeboard rack on top of my truck, blowing in the wind like a flag. - Cal

To: cal.thompson04@smu.il.edu

From: grevkeller0143@state.edu

Subject: Squeals of delight.

Calvin,

Oh no! That sounds… hilarious, actually. But don’t mind me. I’m just delirious with excitement that you’re coming. I would love to have seen your face when you opened your locker to tampons. What brand are they? I’d hate to waste a new box. KIDDING. Kidding. Sort of.

I’m not even going to pretend I’m not happy dancing my way around the house. I’m not going to send you “Oh, Cal! You HAVE to go to your game! Don’t miss it on my account!” notes. Because the truth is, when you texted that you were escorting me to the gala, I squealed so loud Melody burst into my room with a baseball bat. She thought I was being attacked. So, I CANNOT WAIT to see you. I can’t wait for you to see my dress. I can’t wait to dance with you. And I guess I should mention now that the evening is going to run really, really late. I know SMU is only an hour away, but… Greyson

Cal: Why, Miss Keller, are you propositioning me for an overnight?

Grey: Hmmm. Am I? I just meant I know you’ll be tired. I have to stay afterwards with my committee and remove some of the sorority insignia and stuff. The hotel staff will do the rest, but there will be a short lag before I can leave.

Cal: This is at a fancy hotel, right?

Grey: Yup. The Crown Hotel. It’s 5 stars.

Cal: Wouldn’t it just be easier to book a room?

Grey: Well, yes, but…

Cal: Let me take care of it.

Greyson

I have a thousand things to do but can only focus on one thing: Cal. Cal, who’s skipping his game for me and is surely going to pay the consequences. Cal, who’s driving an hour out of his way to be with me. Cal, who calls me sweetheart.

Four times in fact.

I counted.

Sigh.

I scoured online for hours to find this, the perfect dress, and as I stand in front of the mirror, nervously adjusting the invisible neckline with trembling fingers, I stare, trying to imagine how Cal will feel when he first sees me in it.

I didn’t just choose the dress with him in mind; I chose it for him.

Flesh-colored netting hugs my shoulders so they appear bare, while an intricate white lace overlay creates a cap sleeve and bodice. White embroidered flowers cover the tapered waist, the skirt flaring in a bell at my hips. The dress is both ridiculously sexy and modest at the same time. Rhinestone stud earrings complete the elaborately elegant ensemble.

I run a hand over my hair. The intricately loose fish braid is nestled in a cascade of loose hair and adorned with a vintage white floweret clip. I sat patiently in a salon chair two hours, and the outcome is messy and complex and exquisite.

I love it.

My minimal eye makeup was expertly applied. Dramatic false eyelashes, the darkest mascara, nude shadow. Flushed skin. Bright plum matte lips that are a contrast to my white dress and blonde hair.

I take a deep breath, running a hand over my nervous stomach.

“Whoa! I mean—wow! Seriously, Grey, you look freaking amazing!” Melody floats into the room, her soft pink gown drifting airily around her tall frame. “You look like Blake Lively on the red carpet. Holy wow. Just stunning.”

“Me? Look at you! Let me see the back,” I say, twirling her around to peek at the back of her dress. Or lack of it. “Seriously, Mel, Sam is going to crap himself.”

She runs a hand down a front pleat and sighs. “Well, I’m hoping to get a few good pictures taken so I can snap them to Mason. Who is, by the way, totally pissed off at Cal for bailing on their game. Or match. Or whatever they call it.”

“What’s he been saying?”

Melody smoothes a hand over her sleek chignon. “That Cal is pussy whipped.”

I try to hide a smile behind my long braid, but the dark plum lipstick gives away my pleased smirk.

“I see that smile, Greyson Keller! Brat.” She lets out a wistful sigh. “It’s so romantic. He’s going to end up on the bench, but Mason says he doesn’t even give a shit.”

My eyes widen, riveted.

“Yup. Benched. For three games or something like that.”

“What else did this endless wealth of knowledge tell you?”

“That he’s making a huge sacrifice for someone who hasn’t even, uh…”

“Hasn’t even… what?”

“You’re seriously going to make me say it?”

“I don’t even know what it is!” I laugh.

“Ugh, fine. He said that Cal is making a huge sacrifice for a guy who hasn’t even fucked you yet and doesn’t even know if the pussy is worth the price tag.”

“What?” I’m convinced my eyes bug out of my head. “He said that to you? What a pig!”

Melody blushes. “Yeah, it was harsh, but all his teammates are seriously pissed. It’s blowing up on him; I mean, he’s their Captain. Plus Cal didn’t tell the guys until after he’d told their coach—who, by the way, was furious. That being said, I’m glad.”

Melody walks over and grabs one of my nude colored high heels out of the shoebox, unbuckles it, and squats down so I can slide my foot in. She glances up as she fits the leather ankle strap through the gold clasp. “For the record, it’s about time you found a guy with balls big enough to go after what he wants. He basically gave his entire team the proverbial middle finger so he could be with you tonight.”

I get warm and tingly all over.

“Anyway, I wish I could be here when he picks you up, but I better skedaddle if I’m going to get the shit done on that list you made me so you could meet Cal here instead of at the hotel. You owe me big time for this, you know. Oh, shoot, I almost forgot. Hand me your overnight bag. I’ll take it now so you don’t look awkward hauling it out in your fancy dress. Not classy.”

“Not classy,” I agree, and I wheel the small lavender carry-on suitcase over to the door.

She grabs it, leans to peck me on the cheek, and starts back towards the door. I call her back. “Hey, Mel?”

Turning, she regards me. “Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“Love you too.”