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*

Six unproductive hours later, we finally got serious about finding a dress. It wasn't a difficult decision though, seeing that I only had two.

Rhia held up the resplendent red satin dress. It was my favourite color, and I had been feeling pretty wild at the time of purchase. It was a middle-cut, stopping just above the knee, and the straps fell to form a heartline neckline.

I had never worn it before.

"Uh, I think not," I said.

"Uh, I think yes," she responded, her eyes bright. "Try it on!"

I sighed, taking the dress from her to slip on. It fit snugly on my chest, because my boobs weren't exactly small, and hugged onto my waist. I looked into the mirror.

"Damn, girl," Rhia said, zipping up the back. "You look gorgeous."

I felt it, at least. It was the type of dress that made you feel gorgeous, despite everything. "I'll wear it, then," I said, a soft smile on my lips.

Rhia pulled my hair into a tight, low bun at the nape of my neck, and I gave her free access to my make-up bag that definitely wasn't as extensive as hers.

She went a little crazy with the highlighter, and I was sure that I'd be lighting up the dark with my cheeks and the tip of my nose.

I slipped on black heels with thin straps. It was the only other pair I'd brought with me, and after nearly breaking an ankle with the other pair, I didn't trust it anymore.

We did it all in an hour, and when I stared in the mirror, I saw myself–obviously, but something had changed. I looked happier. Rhia's company was uplifting, and her makeup wasn't half bad either.

Actually, that was an understatement. It was downright fantastic. Rhia did a little round of applause.

"How are you this good at make-up?" I asked her.

She shrugged it off. "I took a 3 week course once. I ended up learning more on YouTube and spending a shit ton of money doing trials on myself. Do you know how expensive make-up is?"

"Grossly," I admitted.

Rhia's phone buzzed. She unlocked it and read it without expression. She sighed.

"Hey, I gotta go, my dad wants to take me out for some quality time," she said, quoting the words with her fingers.

"Cute," I said. She didn't know how lucky she was.

"Yeah, yeah," she said. "See ya later! Hope you get some smoochy time with Valdez and ruin my 50 dollar red lipstick."

I laughed. "Bye!"

When she closed the door behind her, the idea of what she said had me sweating like a pig.

Smoochy time?

I was going to combust. I could already feel myself heating up, the palms of my hands glistening with fresh perspiration. I dried them on a paper towel.

Suddenly, I regretted everything. I should have at least asked Rhia to come with me. She would have groaned about third wheeling but came anyway. What was I thinking, agreeing to this date? I had zero expertise.

Fifteen minutes later, I'd managed to calm myself down by watching a math video proving why 1 plus 1 equalled 3, there was a knock at my door.

Heart racing, I walked over and opened it, coming face to face with Caleb Valdez.

And damn, was he a sight to see. Cleanly shaven and dark hair styled back, his grey eyes were more prominent than ever.

Donning a loose white dress shirt and black jeans, he tucked his hands in his pockets and smiled at me. I got a whiff of that cologne he wore.

"You look beautiful," he said.

"Thank you," I faltered, cheeks lighting up. "Where are we going?"

Caleb lifted his brows. "Do you like dancing?"

"Yeah, I do," I said.

He smiled. "Great," he said, and held out a hand for me.

A fancy watch was secured around his wrist, I noticed, when I took his hand. His skin was smooth and cold. I thought of Mason's scarred hand—the exact opposite.

Why was I thinking about him? I inwardly chastised myself for it.

Suddenly, I was staring into dark brown eyes.

Mason was standing right in front of us.

His hair was ruffled, and the black shirt he had on stuck to his skin in places, hinting at the body I'd seen the other day.

I blinked, considering rubbing my eyes or pinching myself. But when I opened my eyes he was still there, with that perpetual frown on his face.

He stared between Caleb and I, surprise bouncing in his eyes. His gaze dropped to our joined hands. His features retracted immediately, replaced with a sheet of blank. Caleb turned, noticing him too.

"Funny seeing you here, brother," Mason quipped. His eyes never left mine.

"Brother?" I blurted, glancing sideways at Caleb.

"Mason," Caleb said, and I could sense the surprise in his voice too. He didn't know where his own brother lived? I reminded myself not to judge too quickly.

"You two are neighbours," Caleb stated, with a piqued interest. "I guess you've already met Ever?"

Mason tore his gaze from me to scowl at his brother. "Of course," he said, his tone saccharine. "She made herself noticed."

Again, Mason's dark brown eyes returned to me, this time sweeping over my figure. He returned to my line of sight, then offered me a smirk I knew meant nothing kind.

Still, I returned the gesture with a small smile, only for the four jars of peanut butter I knew could only have been from him. I'd never properly thanked him for it—making my debt to him even greater.

"Try playing your music a little softer next time, yeah?" Mason said to me.

Thanks, Rhia. And Taylor Swift.

"I—"

"I'll have them fit in a soundproof system," Caleb answered for me. He winked at me reassuringly.

I looked up at him with a small smile, and even in my 5 inch heels, he was taller than me.

Not taller than Mason, though, who was staring at him with fuming eyes and a clenched jaw.

"Of course," Mason quipped, folding his hands across his chest. "Good old Caleb to the rescue with his heroic acts of kindness. Swipe your card and everything's fixed, right? I suppose you shit gold, too?"

I stared in surprise at him, but at this point, I wasn't sure what I expected, really. Mason had barely given me a reason to believe he wasn't a giant jerk.

The Mason that left those jars of peanut butter outside my room...I saw none of him in the Mason standing in front of me—and some part of me hurt.

Why was he doing this? Why was he deliberately separating himself from people; hurting people who might just care?

If Caleb was offended, he didn't say anything. He placed his hand on my back softly, soothingly. "Mason, not now—"

"Yes, yes. The prince must save his princess from the villain," Mason mocked. "Run along now, I won't keep you waiting."

Caleb didn't respond, but shook his head slightly and ushered me forward. I eventually moved with him, turning one last time to look behind me.

Mason was rooted in the same spot, his eyes never leaving me.

"Enjoy, blondie," he whispered.

I could have sworn his voice cracked.

*

Caleb's car was beautiful.

It was sleek and navy blue, the metal swerving to enhance its curved shape. I couldn't recognise the type, but I wasn't a car aficionado anyway. It was beautiful nonetheless.

Funnily enough, the only words that popped into my head when I saw it, were: this is New York, and you only drive around in a car if you're really rich or really stupid.

I pursed my lips at Mason's brash words, wondering which one Caleb was anyway—although I doubted he was "stupid." Rich then, but I had deduced that already from the towering building with his surname on it.

Some tiny voice inside my head reminded me that it was Mason's surname, too.

"Ever." Caleb's voice snapped me back to reality. He was holding the door open for me. I held back a smile. He was charming and sweet. And nothing like Mason.

Could you stop comparing every living being to that hulk of a man?

Raising a brow at the voice inside my head, I slid into front seat of Caleb's car, sending him a small, thankful smile.

He switched the car into gear in one swift, lucid motion, and we were on the road. We drove deeper into the city, and I found myself telling him about college.

"Columbia, hey?" he said, with a small smirk. "You're smart."

"I couldn't believe it either," I said, "but, here I am."

"Hey," he said, and I faced him.

"Yeah?"

"Sorry about Mason. He can be a bit..."

"Of an asshole?" I completed for him.

Caleb chuckled. "Overbearing, at times, yes."

I didn't ask him any further, looking out the window instead.

The lights outside were dazzling. They reflected on metal surfaces, and made the cars passing by dance in shades of gold and silver, red and blue. I didn't think a single street was left unlit—untrue, of course, but it seemed so.

The club was high-class. It was all the same, though. I'd been into clubs before, and they were all the same.  Bright, flashing lights and moving bodies and alcohol. Except this time, I recognised no one.

At least the music was good.

"I'll get you something to drink," Caleb said, a little louder and closer to my ear.

I nodded, turning to face him. "Sure. No alcohol, though. I'll just wait over here."

I took a seat at the bar, inwardly jamming to the song they were currently blasting. Girls with shiny short dresses circled around, most with partners, some without.

Caleb eventually brought me a drink, as promised, and one for himself too. Though I doubted his was alcohol free.

"Virgin Mojito," he said. "You'll like it."

I took it, tentatively sipping from the martini glass. It was sweet, and cold as ice, and had a distinct fruity flavour.

I looked up at him. "It's pretty good," I said, louder than normal to compensate for the loud background.

I drained the glass in thirty seconds flat, probably since my nerves were acting up again.

Caleb seemed to sense it, and winked. "Wanna go dance?"

I smiled. "Well that's what we came here for."

A Spanish song came on, one that I didn't, for the life of me, know the lyrics to, but one that sounded amazing anyway. The temperature in the place seemed to go up by a couple degrees.

Mason was Hispanic, which meant that Caleb was too. His darker skin had alluded to it, but I hadn't been sure. It explained their dark hair, too. He had a better chance of knowing the lyrics, but didn't show any sign of it.

All he did was pull me closer, and I let him.

Caleb's slate grey eyes were alive with the flashing green and blue of the lighting. In that second, with the blood rushing through my veins and the music loud enough to dim my thoughts I figured, oh, what the hell.

He was safe. Every mathematical instinct in my mind, the ones I'd honed into so carefully, told me so.

I brought my body closer to his, placing the palm of my hand on his chest as we moved, and he let me take the lead. I smiled when he spun me around quickly, bringing me back to his chest in a second.

I settled my arms on his shoulders, and I couldn't help but notice how soft the hair at the nape of his neck was. Then my eyes caught on to a familiar face over Caleb's shoulder.

Mason.

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