Abby
“Hey, Abby.”
There he is: Karl, standing in front of me, looking as handsome as ever in his all-black suit. He’s got his hands in his pockets in that way that just screams Karl, and for a moment, I feel my chest tighten at the thought of the fact that he has a different date who isn’t me.
“Um… Hey,” I reply.
There’s a brief silence, slightly awkward, before he responds. “I didn’t expect to see you here tonight. Not like…” He pauses, pulling one hand out of his pocket to gesture to my dress and my hair. “...This.”
For a moment, I feel as though I’m about to throw up. I feel like he doesn’t like the dress, and I’m suddenly back in the past, back when he used to police what I wore.
I bashfully look down at the gown and touch the fabric. “I know it’s silly,” I stammer, although I
