Getaway

Chapter 7

I stood in front of the ‘wardrobe’ for what felt like an hour. Who knows maybe it was but all I know is that by the end of it I was still no closer to deciding what to wear.

The wardrobe was a hole in the wall separated from the rest of the room by some beads and I held the aforementioned beads back with one hand as I surveyed my options for clothing that night.

I wasn’t entirely sure why I cared. Was it to impress Fletcher? Definitely not, he had seen me sweaty whilst playing volleyball (not my most attractive look strangely enough) and he was just a ‘friend’ – I use the term loosely – anyway.

So why did I care so much about what I wore?

Perhaps it was because I wanted the satisfaction of feeling nice but I didn’t think so and yet I continued to criticise my clothing options without knowing why.

Remembering how Fletcher had said I was ‘underdressed’ the night before in my denim shorts, T-Shirt and ponytail I decided to show him that I could in fact dress up. The only problem was how I was going to do that.

I hadn’t packed anything fancy; at least I didn’t think I had. That was when I remembered the dress – still folded up in the bottom of my suitcase – that I had packed on a whim.

I had not been the one to buy it and to be honest I never would have done. It was white, floaty – for lack of a better adjective – and fell to just above the knees with a simple sweetheart neckline. The dress somehow made me feel pretty which wasn’t something I usually felt. That wasn’t to say I was unhappy with my appearance I just never felt delicate or girly enough to be considered pretty. I wore dresses; they just didn’t often make me look like that.

I pulled it out of my suitcase, it was slightly creased but it would do.

I didn’t want to go overboard and give Fletcher the impression that I was trying to impress or entice him and so I kept my makeup simple. A light layer of hazel eye-shadow, a quick sweep of mascara, a swipe of lip-gloss and I was done.

Well almost.

I had to decide that to do with my hair. My hair was not uncontrollably frizzy or gorgeously curly or pin straight. It had a slight kink to it – which thankfully didn’t look so bad now that I’d grown it out – which made it difficult to style.

Deciding against just putting it in a – supposedly - boring ponytail I left it down, at least this way I could hide behind it if I for some reason felt the need to.

Once I felt I was satisfied with my appearance I left to meet up with Dad and Kyle who – as we had arranged – were stood waiting for me to arrive.

Dad was in the middle of lecturing me about taking so long when he saw what I was wearing.

“You look lovely Nell, I haven’t seen you in that dress since...” he trailed off, unable to finish.

“Since Mum’s 45th birthday party?” I finished for him.

“Yeah,” Dad said awkwardly because neither of us particularly liked to think about that day.

An uncomfortable silence settled over the three of us then, even Kyle knew what we were talking about, even he didn’t want to think about it and so the three of us said nothing, struggling to think of a more suitable topic of conversation.

“So have you done this to impress Fletcher by any chance?” Dad asked with a teasing smile.

“No,” I replied calmly - because as much as it annoyed me that Dad assumed that, it was definitely better than the previous topic of conversation.