SEVENTY TWO

About 15 minutes ago, she arrived at my house, and I was surprised to find myself totally underdressed.

She wears an elegant midnight blue dress, while I'm only dressed up in black jeans, blouse and blazer. I thought that a concert for the college orchestra would be nothing fancy, but it turns out that they invited some special guests tonight, so the event is much more formal than I thought.

I ponder on the outfit Kyla just chose for me. The black dress is lovely. It's knee-length, exposes my shoulder and accentuates my curve. More importantly, it speaks high class. But isn't it too much? It's not like I'm going to watch a philharmonic orchestra in Vienna's most phenomenal concert hall.

I raise my brow at her. "Don't you think it's too much?"

"Come on," she growls. "Trust me. You'll look fabulous."

I roll my eyes and decide to trust her. Once I get dressed, I look at my reflection in the full-body length mirror, and I'm quite satisfied with the result.

"Wow." Kyla whistles. "Look