~Emily’s POV~
“Ah, you’re home.” Mom said when I walked in the door, kissing dad on the cheek. She rarely greeted me so I sensed immediately that something was up. “I’d like to have a word with you in the kitchen.” She asked in her best accusatory voice.

I looked desperately at dad, who shrugged as though I was going to have to get myself out of this.

“Coffee?” She asked, looking at me with suspicion in her eyes. I felt like I was trapped in a game of mom-chess and she was about to call checkmate.

“Nobody drinks coffee at this time of night mom.” I sighed, resting my chin on my palm and leaning against the table.

She set a strong smelling cup of coffee in front of me. “Mom I don’t drink coffee.”

“Nonsense.” She pushed the sugar bowl toward me. “I started drinking coffee when I was in university.”

I did drink coffee; I just didn’t know she knew about it. Hesitantly I stirred in way too much cream and sugar, waiting for her to get to the point.

“Soooo.” She said, looking over her shoulder to see if the room was clear.

“Mom, how much coffee have you had?” I smiled.

“Cinnamon?” She asked, pushing a small red lidded container of ground cinnamon toward me.

“You put cinnamon in your coffee?” I raised an eyebrow.

She shrugged and rolled her eyes again. “Cafes do it.” She took a loud sip. I stared at my cup and bit my lip, still waiting for the pending lecture. “Do you have something to tell me?” She turned her head slightly and looked me in the eyes.

I hate when she does this, she always has a way of making me say everything I’d otherwise hide from her. “Were you in my room?” I tried.

“Yes.” She nodded and looked away. “And your clothes are atrocious. We really need to go shopping.”

“Mooooommmmm.” I sighed. She would dress me like one of the First Daughters if she had her way. “We’ve been through this.” I set my cup down.

“When was the last time we went shopping together?” She said innocently.

I wrapped my hands around my coffee cup, bracing myself. All hands on deck, we have a huge guilt trip incoming.

“Is it so wrong for a mother to want to spend time with her daughter?” She continued.

“Mom.” I paused and sighed. “I’ve been busy.” I will always be too busy to try on every outfit that ‘looks cute’ or ‘has potential’ for six consecutive hours in a store I’d otherwise never set foot in.

“I know.” She set her cup down, excitement breaking her serious demeanor. “And it looks like it’s paid off.” I sat up straight and moved my elbows off of the table; she didn’t get excited very often. “Honeyyyyyyyyy!” She called out to dad.

“Yes dear!” He replied automatically.

“Emily and I are going dress shoppiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing!” She sang the words triumphantly. Oh God, she’s onto me.

“Is she getting married already?” Dad answered, confused.

Mom slid my masquerade invite across the table toward me. “Who’s Mr. Ashley Purdy?” She winked.

“Mom it’s not what you think…” I began to explain.

“Emily has an invite to the alumni masquerade!” Mom sang the words loudly.

“What?!” Dad shouted from the den. “Even I don’t get invited to the alumni masquerade.” He appeared in the doorway. “Who invited you?” He smirked.

“A boy.” Mom gushed, grabbing the invite from me and passing it to dad.

“Ooh, a boy?” Dad gave the invite a scrutinizing view. “Ashley huh?” He looked at me through the top of his glasses.

I smiled. “His band is playing at the ball, it’s no big deal.” I rolled my eyes.

“A boy in a band.” Dad said with concern.

“He plays bass violin.” I shrugged.

“Oooh, a bassist.” Mom tossed her head back to look at dad.

“You know, I used to play bass back in the day.” Dad said.

“He did.” Mom smirked and giggled.

“Ew.” I shook my head. “Just ew.”

“Your mother was a groupie.” Dad chuckled.

“More coffee?” Mom stood up, pouring another cup.

“Did you guys meet at a concert?” I looked at both of them in disbelief, this was not the story they told at dinner parties.

“Did we ever.” Dad laughed.

Mom’s face turned red. “Dress shopping!” Mom sang loudly.

“Were you really a groupie?” My jaw hung open as I saw mom in a new light.

“Hush.” Mom said, embarrassed. “I was in college. That’s all you need to know.” She whisked out of the room, singing the words ‘dress shopping’ down the hallway.

Dad stood smirking in the doorway. “She told me her name was Sammi Sugarlips, because her kisses were as sweet as candy.” He was blushing.

“Do you know what his pickup line was?” Mom retaliated from the other room.

“She doesn’t need to know that!” Dad hollered back.

Mom appeared behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist. “You said, ‘It’s a good thing I’m a volunteer firefighter.’” She nuzzled his shoulder. I rolled my eyes.

“Because I’m gonna light your fire.” He said deeply.

I couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s the worst pickup line I’ve ever heard.” I finished my coffee. “I’ll agree to go dress shopping if I never have to hear that story again.” I stood up.

“Yayyyy!” Mom squealed, leaving the room again.

I looked at dad. “Firefighter, really?”

He shrugged. “I never did put that fire out.”

I hunched my shoulders and fake gagged in his direction, "Oh my God, you did not just say that."

"Someday you'll understand." He shook his head and walked away, still smirking.


~Andy’s POV~
“I can’t go to this stupid ball.” I said.

CC patted my shoulder. “You’re as debonair as Bruce Wayne and as crazy as Deadpool. ” He smiled reassuringly, “There is nobody better suited for this enchanting evening than you.”

I wanted the stitches to disappear, but my batman mask would cover it up. The sleeves of my suit jacket were a little bit longer than they needed to be, and covered the thin mesh netting over the stitches on my left hand. CC said the stitches made me look tough like a boxer, and that I should show them off because chicks like that. But Emily isn’t just some chick, she’s the woman I want to wake up next to every day and have delirious late night conversations with. She’s my 11:11 wish. She’s my best friend and all I’ve wanted for years. I needed our first meeting to be perfect, to be something we could reflect on for years to come. If we ever had a fight in the future, I wanted her to remember the first time I held her in my arms and fall in love with me all over again. I wanted the moment she first laid her eyes on me to be her happy place.

Thinking of everything leading up to the moment we meet made me feel sick to the stomach. I wonder if this is what people feel on their wedding day. I’m scared I’ll say or do the wrong thing. I’m scared she’ll think I look completely different in person, maybe she’ll hate my cologne or perhaps she’ll hate everything about me. What if she takes one look at me and decides that I’m not everything she hoped for? What if she sees my Batman mask and laughs at me? What if she thinks I’m a loser?

“You got this Andy.” CC repeated through gritted teeth. I forced a smile onto my face and looked at him. “Dude don’t make that face around her.” He rubbed his forehead with his palm.

My mouth made a sucking sound as I inhaled sharply through my teeth. “Don’t do that either.” He sighed.

I felt panic. “You’ve got to relax.” He looked away. “Also your hair sucks.”

“You’re not helping.” I whispered angrily.

“You need a scene fringe and a dye job.” He grabbed his keys.
“She loves me either way.” I said, defeated.

“I’m just saying.” He shrugged.

“Ceese.” I looked at him hoping for some reassurance, he didn’t provide it in his facial expression. “I’m not ready to meet her.”

“Let's go for a haircut, you'll feel like a new man.” He shrugged. “I’m not spending another minute with disheveled Andy, I’ll be in the car.” He opened the door and stopped in the doorway, turning to look at me. “Don’t make me wait five years.”

When he left the room I looked at myself in the mirror, the dark circles underneath my eyes stood out the most. Should I wear concealer? Would she notice if I wore makeup? Does she even care about how my face looks? How do I make a first impression count for all of the stars in the sky?

“Dude!” CC banged on the door. “Five years!” He shouted. I listened to his footsteps march down the hallway.

If I was this nervous about getting a haircut, what would happen when I wore the entire outfit and left the hotel? What would she say if she knew that I had been in the same city as her for a few days but was too shy to meet her? “I miss you so much.” I decided to text her.

She didn’t reply.


~Emily’s POV~
I stared in horror at my long pink ball gown with waves of different shades of pink tapering down from the hips. “Let me see the dress!” Mom whined outside of the change room.

“It’s not me.” I sighed, looking at my phone. I added a picture of my reflection with the words ‘CAUSE OF DEATH: CUPCAKE DRESS’ to my story on Snap, sending it to our sociology group by accident.

“I miss you so much.” Andy texted at the perfect moment, making me smile.

“That dress is darling, let me see!” Mom whined again, testing the handle of the change room door. I’d left it unlocked as always because I knew she’d barge in at some point.

“Dear God no.” She laughed. “Maybe you’re right about the red one.”

“I look like a cupcake.” I giggled.

“You do sweetie.” She pulled at the bust of the dress.

“Can we drop the pink dresses now, Sugarlips?” I teased.

She sighed and looked at the ceiling, “As long as you never call me that again.” She scooped the pile of pink dresses up in her arms and left the room.

Josie snapped a picture of herself in a blue and black ruffled ball gown with the words ‘PEACOCK PRIDE!’

Ashley snapped a picture wearing a button up black shirt looking like he was laughing at me with the words, ‘interesting choice’ written across it.

Jake snapped a picture of himself holding a guitar and leaning against a wall pretending to sleep with the words ‘glad I’m not there’ on it.

Mom came back with more dresses. I tried all of them on and sent out more pictures but none of the dresses felt like the right one. We took a coffee break and tried more dresses on, mom really wanted to see me wearing pink. After searching every dress shop in the mall I decided I didn’t care anymore. There was no way I was going to the ball.


~Andy’s POV~
"Perfect.” CC said. We were back at the hotel room ready to go, standing in the front of the mirror.

I now had a red vest showing beneath my suit jacket, and a white collared shirt with a black bow tie. Chris convinced me that showing the Batman symbol beneath my jacket was somehow not formal enough, even though he was clearly wearing a black bandana beneath his gold mask. He tried to convince me to remove my lip ring, but I wasn’t going to give in.

“She’ll notice the lip ring. Just saying.” He said.

“You’ve said enough.” I was irritated.

He raised his hands in the air. “You ready to go?” He folded the bottom of his jacket back and revealed a pair of drumsticks in his pants pocket.

“Do you think we can actually get in by pretending to be in the band?” I stroked my chin in deep thought.

“As far as they know, we are in the band.” He flashed a grin and left me staring at myself in the mirror.

I probably looked ridiculous but I kind of felt like Batman. “Can I say my name’s on the guest list? I’ve always wanted to say that.” I said loudly.

“No! Let me do the talking.” His voice shouted randomly from nowhere.

“My name’s on the list.” I said firmly to the mirror. Shrugging slightly, lowering my voice. “There must be some mistake, check again, last name is Wayne. Bruce Wayne.” I raised an eyebrow.

Chris peeked his head into the room again. “Bond.” He said with a British accent. “James Bond.”

I had to laugh. “Maybe I should do the talking.”

“Maybe we should let Mr. Franklin speak for both us.” He waved his hand slightly, flashing a hundred dollar bill.

“These people are wearing masks for fun.” I laughed. “I don’t think Mr. Franklin will persuade them.”

He continued speaking with his bad accent, “Terribly sorry my man, but I’ve run fresh out of Clevelands.” He crumpled the bill into his pocket and disappeared.

“Dude they don’t even make those anymore.” I tugged at the corners of my vest, my jacket, and my sleeves.

“Relax.” He reminded. “She already loves you.”

I took a deep breath and tugged at the red vest again. “It matches her dress.” He prompted. When Emily sent me a picture of her dress I made it my phone's wallpaper. I looked at the mirror with uncertainty. “Let’s get out of here Batman. We’ve a fancy masquerade to crash.”

He knew I wanted more than anything, to back out of this whole thing. Somehow I’d convinced myself that the long distance friendship Emily and I had carried on for years would have been able to continue that way forever, even after we’d admitted we were in love. I was afraid. I wanted to run.

“When I see a storm, I think of Amelia’s eyes.” CC said out of nowhere. “What reminds you of the first time you saw Emily’s?”

“I don’t know.” My mind drew a blank. “I’ve never really seen them in that way.” I reflected. Oh, I see what he did there.

He smiled. “I’ll be in the car Romeo.” He left the room. “FIVE YEARS!” He yelled when the door closed behind him.

I looked in the mirror, my eyes a misty blue. I took a deep breath and stepped back. “She already loves me.” I whispered, jamming my fists into my pockets and shutting the light off.

By the time CC pulled the Lotus up to the castle looking ballroom my panic had dissolved. I couldn’t wait to hold her in my arms for the first time.

Notes