SARAH
My wardrobe had officially declared war on me.
Standing in front of the mirror, I stared at my reflection wearing what had to be the seventh outfit of the afternoon. The red dress that looked promising five minutes ago now screamed trying too hard. I yanked it off with more force than necessary, adding it to the growing pile of rejected clothes on my bed.
This was ridiculous. I was putting more effort into this. And for what? A forced date that I didn't have a choice in.
I flopped onto my bed dramatically, staring at the pile of clothes as if it might offer some fashion advice. My phone buzzed and I grabbed it with the desperation of someone drowning.
“I am eager to see your beautiful face.”
The message was from Jett, I typed and deleted about five different responses before se
