Embry's Calling
Chapter 7

Embry's POV

As I hung up the phone, a million questions buzzed in my head, these being the most prominent ones:

Did she really want to see me?

Was she getting married?

If yes to the question before, why was she even bothering?

I glanced at the clock, which read 6:30. I rushed to the bathroom with a towel, intent on not being late tonight.

Xx*xX

Lizzie's POV

I backed away slowly from the crazy girl coming after me.

"Oh, no. Mm-mm, hell no. Put the straightener down, Chant," I said, as my friend quickly grabbed the hair straightener from the bathroom, as if using it as a weapon against me.

"Calm down, Lizzie, just making you look hot for your date with Embry," she calmly said, emphasizing the hot in the sentence.

I thought of a way to fight back, but then gave up; what was the use of it against Chantal? This girl put Gandhi to shame. I sat on the couch, opening one eye to see all of the make-up being piled on the table.

"Uh, Chant, natural, remember? I don't wanna look like a clown."

"Yep. Not on your first date."

I groaned. "Okay, I've had plenty of dates before, you can quit that." She rolled her eyes, and even I couldn't believe what I had said. Both Chantal and I knew that I had never been excited for any one of the guys that I'd dated before. Nothing, not even needing the whole 'deep breath, inhale, exhale' crap. But I had barely even known Embry, yet I could feel butterflies in my stomach. Well, they weren't even butterflies, they were like elephants.

I relaxed to the feel of Chant brushing some face powder on my cheeks.

"Just a little bit, because you have a clear complexion," she always said. Next, she applied a little black eyeliner, not too much, but just to show that you weren't a 'good girl'. After that, she would curl my eyelashes, adding some water-proof mascara (there had been a date I was on where the waiter spilled water on me. I looked like a panda my whole date, and I didn't let Chantal do my make-up until we bought some water-proof mascara).

She added no lip gloss on my lips. "Concentrating make-up on your eyes and your mouth will make you look like a clown."

For the finishing touch, she sprayed just a little bit of glitter in my hair, her signature style. She placed a tight fitting red top, with a cut just low enough to not make you look slutty, and a pair of dark skinny jeans in my hands, signaling that is was time for me to change.

After changing, I glanced in the mirror and gasped at the person staring back at me. I looked amazing! Years of testing make-up on me had finally perfected Chantal's skills, and she had outdone herself tonight. She came up behind me, patting down some loose strands of hair back in place.

"Well, no thank you?" She teased. I grabbed her and squeezed a hug out of her.

"Yes! Thank you, thank you so much!" I heard her groaning, and let go so that she could breathe properly.

"No problem, darling, just don't wipe your make-up off on my shirt."

I glanced back into the mirror again, checking if I had too much make-up on.

"Lizzie, you look perfect. If I was a guy, I would totally screw you," she said with a wink. I smiled back at her, and grabbed the purse that she had left out for me.

"Bye, Chant. Thank you so much again. I'll do anything for you!" I called as I opened the door.

"Well, if he has a friend or brother, that would work," I heard her say as I exited the apartment.

I frowned; I really did feel sorry for Chant, whose love life was just as bad as mine, even worse. Her boyfriend had proposed to her when she was 18, and she told him that she needed time to think about it. Later at his house, she had found a thong beside his bed, and that didn't belong to her. She ended it right then and there, and has finally got back on track with her life.

Well, who knows. Maybe Embry does have a brother, I thought to myself as I sped on the highway towards Port Angeles.

Yes, yes, people, calm down. The date is next!