The Bad Boy's Good Girl

16. "What ... is Divided By Zero?"

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NOT EDITED

Breathing you in when I want you out

Finding our truth in a hope of doubt

Lying inside our quiet drama

Wearing your heart like a stolen dream

Opening skies with your broken keys

No one can blind us any longer

(Spectrum - Zedd Feat. Matthew Koma)

I sigh internally as I stare at my dress choices. I can either go full-on slut in a red dress that barely covers my butt, or be like a conservative nun and go in a barf-green dress that covers my ankles that I got on my fourteenth birthday.

I grunt, stomping my foot. Why is picking an appropriate dress so hard?

That's ... that's what she said.

I groan, falling back onto my bed with a loud thump. I inwardly cringe. I don't want to have to get a new bed.

I clench my fists and press them to my closed eyes, marvelling at the lights. Honestly, I don't know if this effects my vision or not, I just know that I've been doing this since I was seven and it's really cool to look at the lights.

I open my eyes and wait for the dark to fade before looking at the clock on my night stand. Three hours to the party.

Deciding to take a shower, I stand and yawn, walking to the bathroom down the hall. Listening to my own footsteps, I close and lock the door behind me, flipping on the lights. Stripping to nothing, I step into the shower and turn the lever, waiting for the water to heat up.

Should I shave? Might as well.

As I scrub myself with fruity - scenting soap, I sniff my arm to see if this smells good enough.

I shudder lightly. I can smell the 'mango'. It's strong.

Washing my hair, I flip the tangled locks over one shoulder as I turn the water off. Stepping out, I dry my hair thoroughly. Pushing my hair back with my fingers, I do my makeup lightly - natural except for my very, very red lips. 

 Putting my damp hair up into a high, slightly messy ponytail, I parade to my room, dropping the towel and closing the door.

I frown at my choices. It's like the green and red dresses are mocking me. I groan and decide, screw this. 

Stepping to my drawers, I pull on a muscle tee that reads, I'm in Neverland and black skinny jeans. Shrugging on my leather jacket, I pull up the sleeves to my elbow. Stepping into my rarely-used studded flats, I glance in the mirror. Okay, good. I look like Noel would look like.

On laundry day. She would never wear skinny jeans to a party.

Chuckling to myself, I give another glance to the clock. 7:35

Damn, I spend some time in the shower. Noel's picking me up in ten. I sit on my bed, the covers moving with a loud creak. 

My phone rings loudly. Sighing, I pick it up without glancing at the I.D.

"Hello?"

"Dude!" Noel shouts. I cringe lightly.

"Calm down, woman. Why the yell-y mood?"