Priceless

~~~

I locked myself up in my room the rest of that Sunday night and just had a marathon of one of my favourite TV series, How I Met Your Mother. I was having a good time laughing at Barney and admiring Marshall and Ted’s friendship when I heard three consecutive knocks on my door, and I already knew it was my father because of his distinctive knock. I paused my player, dragged myself out of my bed and walked to the door to open it. He smiled and entered my room.

“Save your night tomorrow, princess,” he started, and I already knew he was talking about something I wasn’t gonna like.

“Why?” I asked, feeling like my heart would burst while anticipating his answer. I felt my heart beat faster than usual in anxiety as he faced me, still with that smile on his face.

“You have a dinner date with Alexander Johansson. He is a great guy, princess,” he said, and I wanted to do nothing but stomp my feet on the ground and yell at him like a little kid having a tantrum.

“Dad, I don’t—”

But it was my dad. It was my dad, and he thought he was always right. Of course, he didn’t want to listen to my protest, so he just cut me off. “Your mother already picked out a beautiful dress for you. So be here before 4 o’clock, and don’t be late. He’ll pick you up at 6.” And then he walked over to me, put his hands on both my shoulders, and gave the top of my head a kiss. “Don’t mess this up, sweetie.”

And with that, he walked out of my room, closing the door behind him, while I just stood there, still in shock. I wanted to run after him and tell him it was my life. I wanted to run after him and tell him that if I couldn’t have it my way, I’ll leave and they could disown me. I wanted to pack my things and sneak out of this depressing household and go somewhere far, but I knew that I would fail at sneaking because of the helpers and the guard. So I just did what I thought was the most rational and appropriate thing to do at times like this—I climbed back to my bed, face-down, and let all my frustrations get out through tears. I was 18, and I didn’t have freedom; I was 18, and I wasn’t happy; I was 18, and I was a fucking mess; I was 18, and I wasn’t myself.

My cries didn’t stop until I fell asleep.

~~~

“You have puffy eyes,” Erin remarked upon seeing me in school that Monday morning. I didn’t need her to point that out because I was aware that she was speaking the truth. I had seen my eyes this morning and it just looked awful.

“Dinner date with an Alexander tonight,” I told her as we started walking down the hall. We had separate first classes that day, but our rooms were on the same floor.

“The one your dad told you about last Saturday.” She was stating it, not guessing. Then she smacked her lips, and I anticipated a crazy idea because that was what she always did whenever a “great” idea crossed her mind. “I’ve nothing to do tonight. You want me to secretly spy on your date?” She looked at me and grinned.

My face literally lit up and I smiled and nodded at her. I wasn’t sure why, but I had the feeling it was a good idea. Maybe it was because she was my best friend and I just wanted her to be there in case things go wrong.

We separated at the end of the hallway, and I waved goodbye to her as I entered my room. My Psychology class was full of people like Serena and Lacey, but there were some who were actually nice to talk to, like Justine Lautner and Amy Reed, aka the two girls who I’ve had a few casual conversations with.

I smiled as Justine waved and motioned for me to take the seat next to her. I casually waved back and walked over to her, and sat down, setting my bag down the arm chair. And then we started talking about some the topic Mr. Hamilton had discussed to us last week, and got caught up in the conversation until our professor walked in.

The rest of the day went by pretty fast—either that, or I was just too anxious about the date tonight. Although I didn’t like it, I didn’t want to mess it up for my father’s sake. I mean I at least wouldn’t mess it up on purpose.

My dad’s driver picked me up from school, as usual, and I got home without seeing Erin. I just sent her a text during the drive home that said, Will text you later about the place tonight. See ya!

Before I could shove my phone into my pocket, it vibrated, and I stared at the screen that displayed Mom for a few seconds before I decided to open the text. I should have known it was just gonna be a reminder of how I didn’t have control of my life. I left a dress in your room. That’s what you’re going to wear. Have fun, sweetie, it read.

Have fun. As if.

I went directly up to my room and bathed first, humming to The Academy Is’ About a Girl. I felt the need to relax that time since I wasn’t gonna get much of it later, probably. I had to watch my every move, if I wanted my father to be proud of me. If only it was easy to do that.

When I finished, I wrapped my robe tightly around my body and sat in front of my vanity mirror. I dried my hair for a while before deciding on curling the ends of it. I just applied slight make-up on my face, since I believed too much of anything is too much, and yes that was an All Time Low song reference. After that, I put on the dress Mom left in my room. It was thin-strapped, and of the colour purple, with spots of black in it. It was beautiful and it reached up to my knees. I paired it with my silver stilettos, and my black sling bag.

I grabbed my phone and looked at the time. It was five minutes before six, but I decided to go down anyway and wait for him at the living room. And just as I was going down the stairs, the doorbell rang. Mary, a helper of ours, came to get it, and then she looked at me.

“It’s Mr. Johansson, Ma’am,” she said.

“I’ll be there in a sec,” I said and hurried to the door. A smile wasn’t fixed on my yet, and I was glad for that, because I knew that if I did, it would have faded away the second I saw him and my mouth could have just dropped open.

"Hey," he greeted, flashing me a huge grin that made me notice and admire how white his teeth were that was accented and flaunted by his fair skin. I couldn't exactly determine what his eye colour was—I was pretty sure it was blue, but it had a slight touch of green in it. His hair was neither short nor long; that blonde hair looked perfect on him, and his height didn't make me feel awkward, thanks to the heels I was wearing. He looked about 5'11", and it seemed like he had a great body underneath the blue long-sleeved polo he was wearing.

I wasn't really ogling him, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't stare at him for a moment before I managed to smile. He was good-looking, and he looked like he was a good guy. Well, okay, good-looking was an understatement; he was stunning. But he wasn't exactly my type—not that I have liked a guy before, but I just preferred brunettes and skinny guys and well, boys in bands. Although he could pass as a Zac Efron look-alike, I preferred a Mikey Way.

"I'm Alex," he said, and extended a hand towards me, so I just shook it. His hand was warm and the handshake was gentle. "It's nice to finally meet you in person, Bailey."

"It's nice to meet you as well," I said, keeping my voice friendly. "So, shall we go?"

He smiled and nodded, and then gently took my hand as he led me to his car, and I couldn't help but smile a little to myself, hoping I wouldn't screw this up because Alex seemed like a great catch.