She wiped her tears away as best she could on the back of the afghan, hoping they wouldn't stain it. God, he had been such an asshole! How could her best friend have done this to her? In that moment she hated him, and in doing so in a way hated herself. Had she been like that when she'd been Michael just a few hours before? That arrogant, that smug, that unfeeling for others? No, she hadn't, she never would have done this to her worst enemy, let alone her best friend. And she never would have treated anyone so callously. How had all of this happened? It didn't make any sense. You just didn't make a stupid wish and have it come true, not like that. He had done something to make it this happen, but what? Tasha - the old Tasha - had been a lot worse off than she'd known. Somewhere along the line she must have blown some major circuit breakers upstairs, it was the only explanation. The only thing she could think of that could cause her old friend to have done something like this. To have. I brushed out my long brown hair. And I put on some makeup. I didn't put on too much but I did put on some dark lipstick. I always thought that made me look sexy. The dress was backless so I didn't wear a bra. My blue eyes sparkled.All during dinner my dad kept staring at me. It started to make me feel a little uncomfortable; I thought his look was a bit intense. After dinner a band played soft slow music, like a waltz. My dad let me out onto the dance floor and we danced. My Dad was a handsome man. 6 feet tall and 54 years old. He was in good shape and had my dark hair and blue eyes, although his hair was liberally sprinkled with silver.His hand rested on the naked skin of my back as we danced. I loved the smell of his cologne and as he lowered his face down to mine I could feel the roughness of his shaved face brush against my cheek. People were starting to look at him with strange looks, so we decided it would be best to leave.When we got home, I was still feeling a little.
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