Starting Over

Later, around 4:30, I decided that I should get ready to meet my future husband. I really don’t want to meet him, but I don’t really have much of a choice. I got in the shower and curled my hair.
When I got into my room there was a blue, strapless, knee-length dress, and silver stilettos on my bed. I hate when my mom picks out my clothes, even if they were cute. I put the dress on. I was about to go downstairs until I heard the door open.
“Hello Margaret, Trevor, Bill.” my mom greeted them. I realized that I didn’t have my shoes on, so I turned to go back upstairs. “Cassidy?” my mom called.
“I don’t have on my shoes.” I told her. That was more of an excuse that a reason. My stomach was flying.
“It’ll be fine honey. This is your house.” she said.
Reluctantly, I turned to go back downstairs, and made my way to the dinning room. When I walked in I was shocked. He was hot! My mom kind of lied. He was tall with light brown-but not blonde-hair, with blue-green eyes. He was built, but not too built. He smiled when he saw me, and I cracked a smile too.