Topsy-Turvy

Arriving At The Pits

Caroline's outfit above👆

Caroline's POV:

I was laying on my bed, doing homework, hoping everyone had just forgotten about what had been planned for Friday night, when much to my dismay, my phone buzzed. I just stared at it, almost too scared to pick it up.

Kayla: You know what today is, right?!

Uh-oh...

Caroline: uh, yeah. Friday. Pancake Day at IHOP.

Oh yeah. I'm smooth. I smiled, throwing my phone to the side.

Kayla: haha you're too funny. But seriously, I'll be there in an hour. Wear something you can dance in 😜

I didn't even bother to reply. I just got up and walked to the closet.

Dance? I don't dance. The feeling in the pit of my stomach that something was going to go terribly wrong tonight grew bigger and bigger by the second, like a giant monster just waiting to consume me when it actually happened.

Opening the closet door, I was once again overwhelmed by what seemed to be almost miles of color-coded madness.

Something I can dance in...

I picked up a tight, short red dress that would most likely barely cover my butt.

Definitely not...

A lot of the dresses were like that, and the heels weren't any better. You could practically stab someone to death with half of them.

I decided to move on to the tops. They weren't that bad... Well, most of them. Some could pass off as a bikini in certain time periods.

This one looks good.

I ran my fingers across the sequin chevron patterned tank top. I then paired it with a pair of dark blue jeans and black sandals, sprayed on some perfume, and slightly curled my hair.

I stood in front of the mirror, just staring at myself, fiddling with a bracelet on my wrist.

What will it be like there? What if people stare at me? Ugh, what if I do something dumb, or someone else does something dumb and I'm affected by it? What if Jennifer is there, or even worse, Scott! Do I look okay? Am I trying too hard? Who am I kidding, he doesn't like me. Just because I'm half Jennifer doesn't change my never-ending lameness.

"HEEEEY!" A sing-songy voice echoed from outside my closet.

"Kayla?!"

"You know it!" She cheerfully replied.

"You're early... By thirty minutes!" I wasn't happy, I still wanted to pig out on some pop tarts down stairs. But I couldn't do that with this salad eating herbivore here, she'd have a fit. I can just hear it now.

"And how did you get in here?" I stood in the closet doorway, leaning against it.

Kayla was just making herself at home, sitting on my bed putting on lip gloss.
"Your mom told me to come in and that you were in your room." She rubbed her lips together.

"Uh-huh..." I waited for her to stop putting on the sparkly goop.

"Oh, sweetie!" She looked at me like I was an alien.

"What?" I looked at my clothes to make sure they were okay.

"Breanne was right. You really are losing it." Kayla got up and walked into the bathroom.

"What are you doing?" She didn't answer, and just continued shuffling through the drawers.

She traipsed over to my computer desk with a big pink box in her arm.