Hailey
I am getting ready for my date with Josh, if it even is a date.
Maybe it's just a friend thing, two people at loose ends in an overwhelming city, grabbing dinner together. Is that what he meant?
My heart races at the thought. Was he expecting something more? Was I?
I pull a black dress from my suitcase and drape it over the chair, staring at it as if it might provide answers. Casual or dressy, casual or dressy. Why is it so hard to decide?
I want to look nice, undeniably nice, but not like I've tried too hard, not like I've been planning this since he showed up in New York. My heart pounds with uncertainty, and I wonder again what he meant.
I turn my attention back to the dress, now looking woefully formal, then glance at the clock in a panic. I wonder what he is doing in his room?
