I lied," I say still looking at his lips, he opens his eyes and gazes over at me.
"Uh oh," he whispers, not breaking eye contact. I am suddenly aware of his lingering stare. He looks at me everywhere, every inch, there was no hiding from it. His ga...
I WAS TOLD TO DRESS NICE. The last time I looked nice I was dressed in black, for my fathers funeral. I hadn't many dresses, didn't have many nice clothes to choose from, apart from my designated funeral dress and a few skirts and blouses I hadn't touched since at least sophomore year of high school.
Most of my clothes were borrowed. I raided my fathers closet for my everyday apparel, and everything else came from Dani or my moms closet.
The only problem with that is Danielle dressed....particularly and my mom was pushing 50. I didn't even know if I had my own style, I never saw clothes as a big deal, as long as I was warm when it was cold and cool when it was hot, I didn't really care.
I didn't dress hideously or anything, but I definitely didn't express a lot about myself through my wardrobe. I didn't express myself with anything really.
I stare at the emerald green dress on my bed. It was the dress. It was enough to make a grown man cry. It was a sexy little number, that would make anyone gawk at my womanly curves, in it.
Of course it was borrowed from Danielle. She got it for homecoming last fall, but hadn't worn it because it would not pass the dress code.
The dress scared me. The dress would allow me to be seen and looked at. Ezra would adore me in it, but was I ready for this dress?
I pull the dress on, with a sigh held in tight, pulling it up over my freshly showered body. Over my hips, my breast, and my shoulders.
Little green dress. I loved it.
"Mommy?" Danielle says, as she watches me scan my body, through my vanity mirror. "I'm foaming at the mouth, you're so sexy."
I allow myself to smile, and to feel pretty. I do a spin and examine how the dress hugs my body, my hips, my breast, my exposed collar bone and back.
"I feel like I can't pull this off, Dani."
"Babe, you're pulling it off, consider it pulled off."
"Is it too slutty...too desperate?"
She comes up behind me, pulling my hair back. I had straightened it, so it didn't look like a birds nest for once. She picked up a sparkly hair clip, pulling my hair out of my face.
I was forced to look at my unfiltered, uncovered face. My big chocolate eyes, round nose and pouty lips, the faint beauty marks that were scattered on the middle of my face like a constellation. My sharp, full eyebrows, my long cat like lashes.
I never really thought about my looks, but I was pretty, in a way where I didn't have to try too hard. It felt weird to give myself compliments, conceited.
