R for Romance

Emara Stone

“EMARA!”

“Coming!” I scream back, hastily combing my pinkish-red hair, before throwing the comb away and grabbing the square hat.

Today, the hat is more important than my hair.

I rush down to see my brother surprisingly dressed up in a white suit and black tie, like he is about to serve us appetizers.

“Why are you not ready yet?” I hear my mother’s screeches and I turn to look at her, stunning in a silver gown with silver accessories, sparkling like a human disco ball.

“I am ready.” I tell her, glancing down at my new AC/DC t-shirt and cool as-my-ass ripped denims.

“No, no.” My father steps in, casually dressed in his usual blue shirt and black pants, like he is about to fix a computer.

“You are not going out dressed up like a drug-addict teenager. This is your convocation ceremony. For some people, it happens once in their life like a wedding night. So, go dress up!” He orders me.

“Dress up like it’s my wedding night?” I ask him, genuinely confused.

Do people even wear clothes on that night?

“No, Emara! Dress up like you are going to Taylor Swift’s concert and she is going to call you on the stage. Go now!”

What? I don’t even listen to Taylor Swift!

“And did you take your meds?” The question stops me as I was about to follow his order.

“Oh, I forgot.” I murmur inaudibly, like a guilty kid.

“Don’t forget to take them, honey. You know how good it is for you.” My mother tells me, and I force a smile, “Yeah.” Before turning to stride back up.

“Will they accept me? I feel so nervous.”

My feet halt as I hear my brother’s sheepish voice. Who are ‘they’?

I flatten my chest against the stair wall and listen to their conversation, quietly.

“Of course, darling. You are such a great guy and you both are together from three years, why wouldn’t her family like you?”

My eyes widen in my socket.

Is Ethan introducing himself to Rose’s family at the graduation ceremony?

“Yeah, but her brother doesn’t like me, and I don’t want her parents to think otherwise.” My rather confident brother sounds under-confident.

Wait.. Ryan is going to be there too?

“That was years ago, Ethan. I am pretty sure he will have a change of heart.” My mother speaks in her angelic voice and I hurriedly stride up to my room, having a change of heart too.

No more going to Taylor Swift concert, I need to dress up like I am going to meet Henry Cavill!

Not that I care about Rhino’s ass, I just want his underwear to burn like firecrackers when he sees what he lost.

He he he!

With an evil smile on my face, I yank open my cupboard to look for a dress which can transform me into a succubus. T-shirts, crop tops, more t-shirts fall as I desperately claw through the junk.

Just then something catches my eye. A peach coloured dress, that he had given me.

Dakota.. A name that even my bones couldn’t forget.

I stare at the dress, which glimmers into hues of blue with the slightest movement. The only piece in my wardrobe that screams of luxury, class, and ‘I am expensive, so don’t touch me.’

The one I earned by being his whore for seven nights.

I dare not to think about him, his room, his scent, his personalities, his anger, and most importantly, the last night when he begged me to give him a chance.

But I left him. I had to. For myself.

And this dress was the only thing I took from his place, along with my self respect. And now, I am going to use this dress to make his best friend jealous, Ryan Damison.

That son of a dick I was soo in love with.

The one who slept with me for a night for a bet, and then ran away to Europe to save his ass from prosecution.

Ana was right, I have pathetic taste in men.

I jump right into the dress, and it hugs me like a possessive lover who still stalks my instagram everyday. It feels just as soft as it did the last time I wore it, when I left his home.

Well, it’s not like Dakota would be there to see me in this dress again.

I tie my hair above, let the backless dress do the talking, and swipe on a nude lipstick, dabbing a little on my cheeks.

Perfectó.. From head-to-toe!

I walk up to the bathroom, and fetch my meds bottle. I stare at the pill in my palm, before dumping it in the pot and flushing it religiously.

The hem of the silky dress brushes above my knee as I stride down the stairs, and announce, “I am ready now!”

“Oh, you look so pretty!” My mother coos, while my father gives me a solid thumbs up, saying, “That’s better.” Ethan as usual, rolls his eyes.

“Can we please leave? I don’t want to be anymore late for my graduation.” He whines, already half-way through the door as if only he is graduating.

We all get seated in the car, and drive off to my college. Hopefully, this is the last day I am stepping into this cursed campus, because I swear if I ever come back here, it will be to burn this institute down to the parking lot with the director and every last faculty member inside.

Amen.

The compound is crowded with vehicles, and less people, so we rush inside to the media hall where Roger Williams, our Director is in middle of his speech.

I swear this man is always talking.

“Maybe you should have changed some more dresses and we would have picked our degrees next year.” Ethan taunts me as we get seated last name wise, wearing our graduation hat and robe.

“Maybe you should have changed too, because you look like a waiter.” I ignore his glare and focus ahead at our director, who is pulling out a speech from his ancient ass.

“I remember when I passed out in the year 1987, the world was a different place back then. No smartphones, no social media, just good old books and hard working people.”

Ethan leans in and whispers, “Do I really look like a waiter?”

His eyes show genuine concern and I give him a side glance as I whisper back, “Yes. But like a classy waiter. Michelin star restaurant vibes.”

He rolls his eyes, checking if his brain is still there or not.

“Now, as you all step into the world with your shiny new degrees, remember: Success is like a pairs of pants. Sometimes it fits perfectly, and sometimes.. Well, you will be tugging at it, trying to make it work.” He says, tugging his own pants on the stage.

Did this doofus just compare our futures to the tightness of pants?

This time, I lean towards Ethan and question, “Hey, how do I look?” Just asking for reviews!

“Handsome.” He says without missing a beat, then points at my mustache, those sad little hair above my lips and gives them chef kisses.

This little dick-ball!

“Now go out there and make us proud, or at least make sure you don’t end up in the news for something stupid. Congratulations, Class of 2023!” Roger finishes his speech.

“Sit down. I am not done yet.” The Director scolds one student, as he still shows no symptom to leave the podium or the stage.

“Today, we have a special guest among us to share his success story with the young graduates.” He takes a dramatic pause, before announcing enthusiastically.

“Everybody welcome, the co-founder and CEO of HighBars System, also my personal favorite student, Dakota Black!”

HolyMotherOfPregnantGoats!

I jerk up in the seat. My breath gets caught half-way in my throat as I see him walking on the stage in a sleek black suit and six-feet-four-inches attitude, like a wolf on hunt.

What in the fuck is he doing here?