| SIX |
| Aimee threw open the doors of her walk in closet, and pulled out a handful of hangers. "Okay, now, if you're going to spend the night apologizing, and trying to keep someone from kicking you out of your house when you show up and you're not who they're expecting., what do you wear?" She looked at the old cabbage patch doll she was talking to. "No opinion? Hmm, how about this?" She grabbed a pair of old jeans, and a light blue sweater. She held it up to herself, and stood in front of the mirror. "Who is this person that you're trying to impress?" A voice asked from her doorway. Aimee spun around, surprised. Her older sister was standing in the doorway, smiling at her. "Oh, God. Ellen, you scared me." Aimee laughed. "Just some guy I met last night. I need to apologize for something. But he's not really into listening to me." She said, answering the question her sister had asked. "Well, don't wear that." Ellen said, coming into her room, and walking over to the closet. "If he's a guy, you're going to need to show a little more skin. Like this." She pulled out a black skirt and a tight yellow sweater. "This should work. And pile on the make-up. Just remember, all guys are the same." Ellen turned to leave. "Oh, by the way, John called." She said, then shut the door behind her as she left the room. Aimee rehung the first outfit she'd tried, and put the second one on. She walked over to her vanity mirror, and smeared as much make-up as she possibally could on her face before she started out the door. "I'm going over to a friend's house! See you in an hour!" She yelled, grabbing her car keys, and walking out the door. She climbed into her Neon, and started the ignotion. She still had the map to Nick's house that Brian had given her, and she followed his directions to the house she'd been to last night. One last look in the rear-veiw mirror to make sure her make-up smeared, and she climbed out of the car, and walked up the walk to Nick's door. She rang the bell, and stood their nervously until the door was opened. Nick was standing there, wearing a pair of jeans and a wifebeater. "What are you doing here?" He snapped. "And why are you dressed like a slut?" Amy stood there with her mouth open, staring at him, and not sure how to respond. "Why are you torturing me? Listen, I don't even know what happened with Brian and Leighanne, it's not my fault that he cheated on you. But obviously you just think it's funny to toy with guys who like you. After what you did to Brian, I can't beleive you're doing it again to me." She just kept looking at him. "Don't give me those innocent eyes. Brian's not the kind of guy to cheat on his girlfriend. I don't know what you did to make him, but it had to be something big. Or maybe it was everything about you. Maybe you're just a bitch, and he couldn't stand you." Nick realized to late what was coming out of his mouth. He wasn't even sure why he said all those things. He wasn't even sure why he'd been mad at Aimee in the first place. "Oh, Aimee, I, uh, I didn't mean-" But he was interupted by Aimee bursting into tears. One minute, she was standing there, glaring daggers at him, and the next minute, she had her head burried in her hands, and her body was shaking with sobs. Nick didn't know what to do. He'd never been very good at comforting people when they were upset, and he also didn't know how to explain what he'd said. "I'm so sorry, Aimee. I don't know why. . ." She held up a hand to stop him. "It's not your fault." She choked out, in between sobs. "I don't know why I'm crying. I'm sorry." She looked so pathetic there, tears rolling down her cheeks, and her face contorted as faces always are when people cry, that Nick's hate for her vanished. He reached one arm out, and rested it on one of Aimee's shoulders. "Come inside for a minute. You can wash all that make- up off." Aimee looked up at him and smiled greatfully. She let Nick lead her insider his house, although, if she had known what would come out of them being in the house together that night, she would have turned around and ran the minute he offered the invitaion to come in. |