Among Star Signs

Chapter Two

Rouge

"Beth! Ginger!" I call up the staircase towards their rooms.

"Don't shout," Beth says as she appears on the upstairs landing. "Yes?" She pauses, tilting her head slightly. "Ginger is in the shower."

"Okay, then I'll come out later. I just wanted to see if this outfit was okay." I hold up the dark dress in my hands and Beth smiles slightly.

"It's pretty, but I would wait for Ginger to put in her own opinion. I was thinking of a few outfits as well. Perhaps we can meet in Ginger's room in five minutes to discuss?"

I nod energetically and I hurry back into my room. I place my hand on my chin, evaluating the other outfits laid across my bed.

A black, lacy dress and red heels. Ripped jeans and a tie-dyed crop top. A gray shirt and boyfriend jeans. Black creepers. Black boots. Three different colors of chokers and one with my own custom moon charm on it. I gather up all of my options and lug them up the stairs to Ginger's room.

I shadow-bump into her room, which is only slightly off-putting now. At first, shadow-bumping was a struggle for me, because being enveloped in freezing darkness was just slightly terrifying. Also, there was a small chance that I would end up on the other side of the earth... Or maybe inside of it. Literally. I heard a story of a Witch who shadow-bumped to the center of the earth. And she lived.

I'm joking. She totally died.

"Ginger!" I call through her bathroom door. A patter of wet footsteps approaches on the other side and the door flings open. A wave of lavender-scented steam hits me in the face, and I step back.

"Gee wiz, honey," I say, waving steam from my face and stifling a cough. "James must be pretty fond of lavender." Ginger whacks me with her washcloth and then continues wringing out her hair.

"Do you think he is?" she wonders aloud, wrapping up her hair in a fresh towel. She throws open her wardrobe and begins to throw items of clothing onto the bed. A hanger flies towards my face, but I raise my hand to stop it in midair. "Sorry. Nice summoning," Ginger says without turning around.

When the pile has almost entirely covered the surface of the bed, she turns around to inspect it. I'm surprised that she even has any more clothes left in her closet.

"Last time we spoke, I wore a green cross-top tank and high waisted shorts with converse... So plain. And out of style." She begins to rifle through the pile as I stand back, watching with one eyebrow raised. "What were you thinking of wearing?"

I point to the small pile of my picks laying by her bedroom door.

"Measly," she sniffs. "What about makeup?"

"Dear lord, Ginger, I never wear makeup. It's icky," I say. I had worn it once and was completely uncomfortable with the slimy goop all over my face. I kept forgetting I was wearing it and would reach up to rub my eyes and my hands would come away black.

"Yeah, well, you don't need it," Ginger says bitterly, and I laugh, tousling her hair playfully. She slaps my hands away, but she's smiling nonetheless.

"Quite a lot of clothing," Beth says from behind us, and we both jump. Ginger whacks her head on her low-hanging chandelier and cusses loudly.

"Jesus, Beth!" we both say, and Beth cracks a smile.

"What are you thinking of wearing?" I ask her after the momentary scare, feeling increasingly more excited now that everyone was here and had their outfit choices.

Beth holds out a black, lacy dress, a pair of knee-high gray socks, and black platform boots.

"Simple enough," I say.