Rounding the corner, I could see my house and Mom's car in the driveway. She was home early; maybe she had dinner started. I was starving. It was almost 5:30, and I still had to shower off the sweat and dog slobber before Clara picked me up.

"Hey, Mom, I'm back!" I yelled as I walked in the door, kicking my shoes off.

"Hey! I'm in the kitchen."

I heard something sizzling, and the house was starting to smell good. In the kitchen, Mom was browning meat and dicing up an onion. There was a big jar of spaghetti sauce on the counter and some fresh mushrooms.

"Yum, spaghetti sounds great!" I said, leaning in to give her a little side hug.

"I have garlic bread to put in the oven, too," she smiled, knowing it's my favorite.

"Great, thanks! Do you need me to do anything?"

"No, but you can hang out with me. What do you have going on this weekend?"

I slid onto one of the wooden barstools on the other side of the counter. "Clara's picking me up at seven, we're going to Coffee House to see a new singer. Tomorrow I have to walk the vacation dogs. They're so cute! Huge, but really sweet. Their owners are coming back Sunday. What about you? Any big plans?" I gave her an eyebrow wiggle.

Mom laughed and kept wiping the mushrooms to clean them. "Well, I don't know if it's worth that thing you're doing with your eyebrows, but I am going out. Tom has to work late, but he's supposed to pick me up around nine for a late movie," her face got a little pink, and it almost made me laugh. I definitely know who I inherited that trait from.

"That sounds fun. Are you excited?"

"I don't know, I guess so. We've been out a few times, and we always have fun, but...."

"But what?" I asked.

"I think I might like him. It's just so strange dating again. Like I'm too old for this or something. Is it weird for you?" She was looking at me with her face puckered up like she'd eaten something sour.

She hasn't really dated anyone my entire life, never had a boyfriend. I guessed she didn't want one.

She was smart and pretty. She said we look alike, but I didn't think so. Her skin was freckle free, and her hair was straight. She was like a prettier, taller version of me.

"You're not too old for this, Mom, that's crazy. You're just out of practice, and I want you to be happy," I smiled, and her eyes got suspiciously watery. "Mom, stop it. Why are you crying?"

She touched my cheek, "I'm just so proud of you, that's all."

I grinned, "Well, you are pretty good at this whole Mom thing. I'm going upstairs to get a shower before this gets too mushy." I kissed her cheek and went up the steps.

In my room I found the shirts Mark left for me, they were actually not bad. One was grey, and one was navy. The navy one had a round neck and three quarter length sleeves, with a cute see-through stripe a couple of inches under the neckline. With my skinny jeans and brown boots, it'd be cute but comfortable.

After my shower, I took extra time with my hair, trying to tame the curls instead of just going with my usual ponytail. I pulled the top back into a sort of messy bun and left the back down. I put on mascara and lip gloss with a natural pink tint.

The shirt fit perfectly and was super soft. I even stopped to put on the silver bangles Mom got me for Christmas. I stepped in front of the full-length mirror that hung on the back of my door to check out the full result. Not bad!

Getting my phone out of my back pocket, I took a quick selfie. Not something I usually did, but Mark asked for a pic, and I do really like the shirt. Poking my lips out in an exaggerated duck face, I snapped the picture and sent it to Mark with a quick thanks.

Hearing me clomp down the steps in my boots, Mom called out, "You better hurry up if you're getting picked up at 7. You don't have long to eat."

She was setting our plates on the table as I walked in. Mom wasn't home for dinner most nights, so it was fun to spend time with her when she was.

When she saw me, she smiled, "Honey, you look great!"

"Thanks, Mom," the surprised look on her face had me blushing.

"Oh! And you're wearing your bracelets! I wasn't sure if you liked them."

"Of course I do. They're pretty."

We sat to eat, and it tasted just as good as it smelled. My phone buzzed with a message.

Mark: Beautiful! Make sure you keep doing the duck face, that's hot.

I could hear the sarcasm in his words, and it made me giggle.

"Was that Mark? Is he working late?" Mom asked.

"Yeah, he's closing the shop, he should be home around ten-thirty."

"I'm glad he took the car if he's going to be out that late. Clara will drive you home, right?"

"Yep."

"Good," she smiled and nodded. "Oh, and don't forget next Saturday is girls day!"

"I won't! Lunch in the city and an afternoon of kicking butt, what could be better?"

She laughed, "I'll clean this up, why don't you go touch up your lipgloss, it's almost 7."

A car honked out front. "Whoops! That must be Clara, I ran late doing the extra hair stuff."

"Well, it's beautiful. Go get ready, grab your purse. I'll wave at Clara and let her know you're coming."

"Thanks Mom!" When I got back downstairs, Mom was just closing the front door.

"That was fast. You girls have fun tonight." She gave me a peck on the cheek and said the same thing she's said to me everyday for as long as I can remember, "Know your worth."

"OK, love you! Bye!"

Walking to the car, I could see Clara leaning over into the passenger seat moving stuff around so I'd have room to sit. She was probably rearranging her collection of mostly empty water bottles.

Getting in I said hi, and pulled my seat belt on. I looked at Clara to see why we weren't moving and found her staring at me.

"Is that mascara?" She looked me up and down, taking in the new shirt and jewelry. "What's got you all fancy?" She dipped her voice implying I had some ulterior motive.

"I just thought I'd put a little extra effort in, and Mark got me this cute shirt. I'm trying not to be offended by all the surprise, between Mom, Mark, and you, you'd think I usually look like a troll."

"Sorry!" She laughed, "I just can't remember the last time I saw your hair any way besides a ponytail. And you're wearing makeup, not just chapstick. It looks good! Maybe there'll be some cuties there tonight!" She shimmied her shoulders suggestively as she drove toward Coffee House.

When I didn't respond she added a sideways grin to the wiggly shoulders, and elbowed me playfully, "Are we hottie shopping?"

"Yeah Clara, that sounds like me," I said as dryly as possible.

"You're no fun," she puckered her mouth up in annoyance. "You can't help it if there are guys here shopping for cute girls though," she gave me a huge grin as we pulled into the parking lot.

Clara's mildly offended by my lack of interest in dating since it's her main focus. She rarely goes out without dancing with someone new.

Coffee House was our favorite hang out. It's really a bar, and on the weekends they almost always had live entertainment. That brings in people from the college that's about a half-hour away and some of the older locals.

For people our age they have non alcoholic drinks, and fancy coffees that you can't get anywhere else around here. It's usually fun, and considering their closest competition is more than forty minutes away, they get a lot of business.

Sitting at a table near the wall, we ordered our usual drinks, a frozen mocha chip frappe for Clara and an iced cinnamon latte for me. The stage area and dance floor were kind of dark, most of the light was from the bar and the twinkle lights that were hung all around the big room.

We spent twenty minutes sipping our drinks, while Clara kept a running commentary on everyone that walked in the door. Without turning around I knew what each girl was wearing, and how she looked in it.

I also knew if each guy was good looking or not, on a scale that went from, nope to Zac Efron. It wasn't often that anyone reached Zac Efron status, usually the best a guy could hope for was to pass as Zac's less attractive brother. That's OK, it was a wide-scale, she still found plenty of guys whose looks she considered to be in the datable range.

It was mostly regulars and no one too interesting coming in, until the really tall redhead.

"Who is she?" Clara whispered and I turned to look.

She had bright red hair, that was so long it passed the bottom of her skin tight ice blue dress. "I don't know, but she's gorgeous," I answered.

Clara squinted her eyes at the girl, "Could that dress be any shorter? Heck, I think that might be a shirt!"

Laughing I said, "You know you'd wear it if there was any way you'd get past your mom."

She stuck her tongue out at me and smiled, "Maybe. It's kind of a lot for the Coffee House though. Did she think this was a real club?"

The redhead glided toward the stage without acknowledging the people she was walking past, some of whom were open-mouthed staring. Without breaking her stride she gracefully hopped up on the stage instead of using the stairs, a major feat considering the length of that dress.

"She must be the new singer," I said, stating the obvious as she was already taking her place behind the microphone.

"Welcome everyone, I'm Dahlia, in just a second we'll be getting started," she said in a breathy voice.

"Is it wrong that I kind of hope she sucks?" Clara asks. "I mean, she has enough going on. Actual talent on top of that," she waved her hand indicating all of the girl, "wouldn't be fair to the rest of us."

I snickered, "Don't be so catty, looks don't mean anything anyway." 

She made a face that said she disagreed, but I was saved from her response by the music starting up.

The first thing they played was an old rock song everyone immediately recognized. When she started to sing her voice went from breathy to raspy in a very cool way. She was amazing!

"Wow! What is she doing here? She should be on a big stage somewhere," I said to an awestruck Clara.

"Fine, she's perfect. Lucky her," Clara still sounded pretty catty.

"You can be grumpy all you want, but I'm glad she's good. We finally have something great to dance to."

Two songs in, everyone was into the show.  Dahlia was singing and dancing in a way that made everyone want to join her. Especially the guys, half of them were actively drooling.

"This is crazy," I had to yell into Clara's ear. We were on the dance floor and it was way too loud for normal conversation. "Can you believe how many people are dancing? There's barely any room left!"

"Yeah, this is really fun. I guess I like her." She smiled, and as she looked from me back toward the stage, her gaze stopped at the door and her eyes got all big and excited.

"What is it?" I asked, trying to see around the guy next to me.

"Ash is here," she yelled in my ear just as my eyes focused on his face.

He looked over as if he heard her yell his name and his gaze locked with mine.