Roman
"You're nervous," I point out.
She walks around my room with her hands in the pockets of her jeans. I am in the room they gave me in the guest house, and she is watching me as I get ready. I don't think there is anything to be nervous about. Maybe I am just a tad bit nervous that her parents would think I am still someone that could potentially betray their people. I mean, my track record is not that great.
"Oh, I am very terrified of tonight. You have no clue what you are getting into,'' she is being a little bit dramatic, but I will let this slide because I have had my fair share of controlling parents.
"They can't be that bad.''
She stops walking and turns to me. Her hair is down today and over her shoulders. She is dressed in a beautiful dress and sandals and looks like she is ready to go for this scary dinner—as she claims.
I, on the other hand, am a mess.