Once I got home from the madrigal dinner on Saturday night, I raced up the stairs and banged on Alice's door. "Ali! I need you!" I cried frantically. The door opened up and a very confused Alice walked out. "I need your help…advice…shoulder to cry on…"
"Slow down, Bella," she said as she pulled me into her apartment. "You look very nice. Did you have a date?"
"No," I said. "I had a school function. But, I do have a date next weekend."
"WHAT? When did this happen? Why didn't you tell me? Is he cute? Is he a 'he'?"
"ALICE!" I barked.
"You were always shying away from men when went out," Alice said with a smirk. "What's the deal? Are you gay?"
"Hell no. I like guys," I said as I plopped down on her couch. "I just don't trust them. Well, most of them. Except…"
"Except who?" Alice asked, curling up on the couch.
"Well, my dad," I said.
"Oh, Charlie? He's awesome. I wish I had him as a dad. He's got the awesome porn stache," she giggled.
"Ew, Alice," I said, wrinkling my nose. "Do not refer to my father's facial hair as the 'porn stache.' That's just fucked up."
"Whatever, Swan," Alice laughed. "Now, why are you banging on my door at quarter past ten?"
"Well, you know that musical director I told you about?" I asked.
"I thought you called him Grumpward," I countered.
"Jerkward, Grumpward, Fuckward…does it matter?"
"It does," I huffed out. "Okay, I need to start from the beginning. It won't make sense unless you know my history. It's not pretty. I'm warning you now. It's part of the reason why I'm so skittish around men."