Best Served Fake

nineteen // keep talking creeper to me

I raised a tentative hand. Cora and Isabelle whirled around to look at me. "The outfit is cute, but I would ideally like to keep my boobs covered."

"Sure, okay. We're going for a reinvented woman, a complete sexpot, but not trying to go so overboard that it looks like an early quarter-life crisis," Isabelle said, nodding slowly. As if wanting to keep my tits covered was a PR move, and not a given. "That's probably a good move. I have double-sided tape, you'll be all strapped in. Promise."

As Isabelle dove for her bag to rummage through the cluttered mess of pencils and books and clothes that seem to have been stuffed haphazardly into the pack, I looked helplessly at Cora. Isabelle was a fucking whirlwind. Cora was too busy staring at the fifteen-year-old menace that was Isabelle Delaney with a fond expression, as if Izzy was completely nuts and Cora loved her for it. I forgot, sometimes, that Isabelle, Kai and Cora had grown up together.  I hadn't spent much time with the little trio, but it was immediately evident that Izzy was probably the most likeable and engaging person I'd ever met. Charm, apparently, was a Delaney special.

When Isabelle fished the roll of tape from the recesses of her bag, she tossed it to me. "Try it on, c'mon. I want to see! You're going to look so hot."

I slipped into my closet and shut the door behind me. There was a small mirror at the back, and I held up the elaborate top and frowned at it. Izzy's double-sided tape would need superpowers to hold this thing together.

After letting Cora's selected outfit pool on the floor at my feet, I shimmied into Isabelle's option. The green skirt slid up my thighs, settling in the hollow of my waist and hugging the outline of my hips, the material tapering off a few scant inches below the curve of my ass. It was flattering, and accentuated my petite frame, creating curves where I hadn't realised any existed.

Then came the top. It was tiny. I bought it on sale years ago, when Sydney had goaded me into buying something a little more risqué. It might have been a wild purchase at the time, but now it was downright sinful. The subsequent years had given me a little more flesh to cover, and the top did not make a good effort of the task. The swells of my breasts were fully bare, and the effect didn't suit me at all. I looked like a little girl trying to play dress-up. I was cute masquerading as hot. I tore the slip of fabric from my body.

"Okay, that top is totally a no," I called.

"Really?"

I looked at the fabric in my hands. "I think I'd be arrested for public nudity."

"Shame," Isabelle said. A pause, and then. "Can I try it on?"

I laughed, and tossed the garment out of the door into Izzy's waiting hands. It was the kind of thing that would suit her far better than it would suit me. Izzy wouldn't be described as cute in any universe. She was hot, plain and simple. But if the thing didn't fit me, it didn't have a chance in hell of fitting Isabelle. She would discard it immediately for something that at least pretended to cover an inch of skin.

I examined the green skirt in the mirror. Isabelle was correct in her assessment of the outfit; the skirt was all sexpot, and it needed a black crop top to complete the outfit. A slow smile spread across my face. I had a black crop top. When I slid the black fabric over my head and settled it into place, I couldn't help but smile at myself in the mirror. The top was perfect.

"I've found something," I called through the door.

"Show us!" Cora said.

I stepped from the room. Isabelle immediately nodded her approval, her eyes shining. "Oh, Valerie," she said. "How did I miss that top before? You look stunning. I'm almost jealous, and I'm not even your ex-boyfriend. Tommy is going to try and scratch Kai's out like an alley-cat." She pawed an me with a heavily-ringed hand, and seemed quite pleased by the idea of her brother in a cat-fight with my ex.