After I woke up and indulged in a long bubble bath, I agonised over my choice of clothes for the evening. I decided to consult Hannah on my limited wardrobe. Within three sentences I knew I'd made a bad decision.

"You need to make him want you, Cat," she said. "Making him weak at the knees isn't enough. You want him begging you to lick your toes."

"Ewww, Hannah, that's gross. I wouldn't let anybody lick my toes even if they paid me."

"Really? It's good. Don't knock it 'til you've tried it. It's very tantric."

I rolled my eyes. She was clearly still in her hippy/spiritualistic phase. The last time I'd seen her, she'd been trying to convince me how you could 'make love with your mind'. "Maybe I'll just pick my own clothes."

"No!" she yelled. "You most certainly will not. You'll end up dressing yourself in a pair of jeans, trainers, and that horrible purple vest top you love for some unknown reason."

"And what's wrong with that?"

"I'm seriously bordering on driving up there to educate you, girl. Now, show me the wardrobe."

I'd thought face timing her would help speed the process along. Again, another bad decision. Twenty minutes later, every single piece of clothing I owned was strewn across my bed, all vetoed by her highness.

"I'm coming up there."

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Next week or whenever, I'm coming up there and we are going shopping because you, girlie, are not going to keep any man interested with those drab clothes, let alone one like Michael."

"Marcus."

She waved a hand dismissively through the air. "Whatever. My gran wouldn't even go out dressed in those clothes."

I giggled. "Because she comes from a different era, Hannah, not because my clothes are bad."

She snorted. "You clearly overestimate your wardrobe. If you're finally going to become a woman, you need to dress like one, not like a fourteen-year-old girl who still plays with My Little Pony."

"Hey, they're collectables!"

"Ha! You know what else is collectable? Dust on your pillow where a man should be!"

I laughed. "Not everything is about men, Hannah."

She frowned and scratched her head. "I'm sorry. Please remind me how we're friends again?"

"Because I'm so amazing you'd be lost without me," I replied, grinning.

"No, more like I took pity on you."

"You mean I took pity on you after you couldn't understand year eight algebra."

"That shit is hard! Who works calculations out with letters? Maths is numbers, people!"

"We can discuss that when you come up. In the meantime, I have a hot date to get ready for."

"But you have nothing to wear!"

I laughed. "I'll figure it out. I'll call you when I'm ready and show you the finished product."

I ended the call to her screams of protest. Personally, my favourite pick for tonight had to be the classic little black dress. It wasn't little though, more ankle length, very fitted, but also very plain. Still, dressing it up with some flashy earrings and a necklace or bracelet wouldn't be too bad.

After spending an hour on my hair and make-up, I felt satisfied that I looked more than decent. I slipped the dress on over my head, careful of my hair and of not touching my face. It would be just my luck that I ended up with foundation smeared all over it and not even realise until tomorrow.

I slipped on a pair of simple black high heels, nothing extravagant, just a small two-inch heel, and looked at myself in the full-length mirror on the door of my wardrobe. I couldn't help but stare at myself. The person staring back at me was a beautiful young woman, someone I barely recognised. It was my face but the rest of her somehow seemed more feminine than I'd ever felt.

Running a hand down my side, feeling the curve of my waist, I watched the woman in the mirror do the same thing. Even though I knew it was me, I couldn't quite grasp that it was me. The longer I stared at her, the more tunnel vision took over and it became almost a world of just me and this woman, staring at each other, waiting for the other's first move.

Then she smiled and ran a hand through her hair, closing her eyes and tilting her head back as if she were in the throes of passion with an invisible lover. The pale skin of her neck glowed like ivory, glistening with temptation. Her mouth formed an O as she ran her hands over the curves of her body. When a burly man appeared, his broad back facing me, I jumped back and screamed, breaking whatever daydream had just happened in my own mirror.

My heart hammering inside my chest, I took some deep breaths and sat down on my bed. What the hell was that? I knew I hadn't blinked because my eyes were dry. I told myself I just became absorbed in some weird fantasy about me and Marcus and me being some sexy woman that I really wasn't.

Trembling ever so slightly, I stood up and looked back in the mirror. My reflection stared back at me, mirroring every move and showing no signs of becoming its own person. I breathed a sigh of relief. It's ok, I told myself. Just had a moment, that's all.

Three loud knocks hammered on my door, making me jump again. I checked the time—ten to seven. Had Marcus arrived early? That seemed unlike him. Five minutes early, sure, but not thirty. I sucked in a deep breath and walked as fast as I could to the door, every part of me tingling.

When I opened the door, I found Luke stood there.

"Hey," I said, smiling. "Everything ok?"

He gawped back at me, his mouth wide open.

"Luke?"

He shook his head. "I...um...wow. You look incredible."

I giggled and didn't even attempt to hide the heat flooding my face. I liked this compliment and wanted to revel in it all I could. "Thank you."

"I...I just came by to say have a good night. Jolene's is an amazing restaurant and I know you'll love it."

I raised an eyebrow. "That seems awfully nice of you considering who's taking me out."

"Well, of course, you know if he's a complete dick you can call me to come and rescue you."

I laughed. "There it is. I knew it wasn't a genuine case of just being nice."

He grinned. "I'm only joking. Unfortunately, where it concerns women, Marcus has exquisite manners. I genuinely wanted to wish you a good night."

"Thank you. That's really sweet."

"I'll see you tomorrow."

We waved goodbye and I closed myself back inside my room, awaiting my knight in shining armour for the evening. Remembering I promised Hannah I'd call her with the end result, I picked my phone up and facetimed her.

"Mirror," she said, not even bothering with a hello. "Show me yourself in the mirror."

Rolling my eyes, I stood in front of the mirror and turned the phone to show her my reflection.

A low wolf whistle sounded from the phone. "Wow, Cat. You actually look grown up. From your shoddy choice of clothes, you've done a good job."

I turned the phone back to my face and grinned. "Right? So clothes shopping may not be needed after all."

"Oh, you're not getting out of that," she said, laughing. "Nice try."

I hated clothes shopping with a passion. I could think of nothing more torturous than being dragged around shops multiple times to only buy the first thing I saw in the first shop.

"Worth a go," I said. "I'm going to go now because he'll be here soon."

"I still need a picture of this hunk, Cat. Don't make me believe you've dressed up like that for no reason."

"Speak to you soon, Hannah."

"Cat!"

I ended the call laughing to myself. As I waited for seven fifteen to arrive, I found myself full of nervous energy. The TV blared away to itself; I couldn't sit and watch it. All I could do was pace up and down, trying to calm my nerves the closer the time came.

Why was I so nervous? I'd been out with him before, but this time felt different, I think because it had now been made official. We were dating, courting, and we were boyfriend and girlfriend. I contained a little squeal. I had a boyfriend. I never imagined the day that would happen. I still had to detail my mum on this part of my life and that interrogation I would be putting off for as long as possible.

I spritzed myself with another bout of perfume, my favourite—Christian Dior Dolce Vita—and fluffed up my hair. It had behaved again today so I'd left it with its natural curls and waves, just using hairspray to keep it all in place. I picked up my black clutch bag and checked I had everything I needed—phone, eyeliner, bank card, driving licence in case I was asked for ID, and my room key.

As I let out a long breath, he knocked on the door. My heart tripled its speed and nerves tingled all through me. I grabbed my bag and headed towards my fate for the evening.

When I opened the door, I couldn't help but gasp at the striking man stood before me. Wearing a beige shirt and tailored black trousers, his sapphire eyes stood out like twinkling stars against a perfect night sky. His skin seemed to have some kind of ethereal glow to it making me want to reach out and touch it.

"Wow," I said, not able to take my eyes off his shiny raven coloured hair. "You look very handsome."

He held his hand out and gave me the same delicious smile I'd seen the first time I'd ever laid eyes on him. I couldn't help the shiver that ran all over me. This guy did things to me without even touching me. How could that even be possible?

"You look absolutely exquisite," he said. "I'm truly honoured to have you in my company tonight."

A ball of warmth flowered inside my chest. I slowly sucked in a deep breath and counted letting it out, trying my best to calm my nerves. "Thank you."

I put my hand in his and stepped outside.

"Well, look at you!"

I looked to my right to see my dad stood outside the back door, Sophie behind him in the utility room. "Dad, really?"

Wearing a stupid grin on his face he said, "I'm not sorry in the slightest. Seeing my only daughter go out on her first proper date? This is something for the scrapbook."

I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me right now. How embarrassing. He'd kept a scrapbook of pictures of my entire life. I'd escaped it so far this year and figured he'd given up. Apparently not.

Marcus chuckled. "Would you like to take a picture?"

My jaw dropped and I threw him a dirty look. "Why are you enabling him?"

He laughed. "Look at him. He's so excited. What harm does a picture do?"

"Exactly!" Dad said.

I rolled my eyes and suppressed a groan. "One picture, Dad. That's it." An idea sprung to mind then. "Actually, can you send me it when you're done?"

His eyes lit up. "New background for your phone?"

"Dad."

Marcus squeezed my hand and motioned towards the car. "Shall we?"

I felt silly but remembering this pleased Dad, I went with it. Marcus guided us to the front of the car and slipped his arm around my waist, pulling me in close to him. His aftershave enveloped me into a bubble of spice and musk. The position we were in, I couldn't help but wrap my arm around him. His body felt so firm and warm, I didn't want to let go. I gave my biggest smile and waited for Dad.

Dad took his picture, although I'm sure I saw the flash go off more than once. "Go and have fun," he said, shooing us into the car. "I'll see you in the morning, pumpkin." He winked.

"Dad!"

"Have you got some clothes for tomorrow?" he asked.

"No, because I'm coming home."

"Cat, come on, don't be naïve. You can't enjoy your meal and be back here within two hours."

"I'll be fine."

Marcus opened the passenger door for me, a tweak of amusement playing at the corners of his pink lips. Dad retreated back to the house and stood with Sophie to wave me off. It felt like prom night, not a date. I wondered where I'd be this time in a year. Then a pang of sadness hit me as I realised that Dad wouldn't be here. I suddenly wanted to jump out of the car and let him take as many pictures as he liked, or better yet, not leave his side at all.

A hand grasped mine as the driver's door closed. "Are you ok?"

I glanced across at him and smiled, despite the tears in my eyes. "Yes, I'm good."

"Don't cry, beautiful." He encased my hand with both of his. "You'll ruin your make-up."

That made me laugh. "Thanks."

He let go of me and an urge to put his hands back around mine almost overwhelmed me. He was becoming like a drug to me, something that once I'd touched it, I couldn't not have contact with.

We pulled away from the house and I looked inthe wing mirror at my Dad's smiling face. The sheer delight written all overhis face made leaving him behind more than worth it.