Grey

Fifteen

"Emily Adams," I laughed, swatting her off as she laughed loudly. "Tone it down."

"You do, though. Like him."

I rubbed my lips together, looking down at my feet. "No comment."

"Can you just admit it? Once? To me?"

I smiled out at a random tree, her eyes burning into the side of my face. "Well yeah, obviously."

I couldn't contain my loud laughter as she screamed, absolutely pissing off any and all nearby neighbors. I stood up, offering a hand as she climbed to her feet too.

"Anyway. I'm going to go shower. And you should too, you smell like subpar sex."

I expected the punch to my arm as we walked back inside, going our separate ways while still laughing.

-

The smells of the food court were overwhelming as I stood outside of the mall, looking around for my sister. Per usual, she was late - but for once, I wasn't annoyed. I casually watched the people filtering by around me, subconsciously eyeing their outfits for anything that could be helpful. I silently laughed to myself, the situation so far out of my comfort zone.

"Hello beauty."

"Hello sister," I responded easily, being pulled into a tight hug. Cal was dressed in the most Cal-like-fashion, wearing a vibrantly printed mini dress with knee-high boots. Her hair was down and loose, but somehow looked more put together than mine ever could. "I'm impressed, only 10 minutes late."

"Only for you," she hummed with a massive smile, throwing her arm around my shoulder and guiding me down the walkway. "I don't think you understand how absolutely ecstatic I am that you requested my styling services for such a wonderful occasion. Love is in the air, Rory."

"Don't make me regret it already," I muttered under my breath. "Friendly reminder that the assignment is sexy, but not Cal's closet. I have to look like me still."

"Yes, ma cherie," she nodded, turning me down a different path as if she knew where she was going. I didn't doubt that she did, given that she could be found shopping any day of the week. "Listen, I don't know Finn super well, but I know him well enough to know he would like a lady in leather."

"Cal, I repeat. I have to look like me still."

"You've been heard loud and clear, Rory," she agreed, grinning as she spun me around for what seemed to be a very anticlimactic grand reveal - Zara. When she saw my face, she elaborated. "I'm terribly sorry the clothes aren't covered in dust and from a dead person's closet, but this is a happy medium. Okay? They have incredible neutrals and I'm thinking a lot of tight denim, a lot of black, some heeled boots, it'll be great. We're channeling porn star Joan Jett."

I sighed, shaking my head. "Do your worst."

We spent an impressive two hours in Zara - an entire 120 minutes of trial and error, Cal's passion for fashion respectable but entirely ridiculous. I'd spent the majority of that time in the dressing room, waiting for her hand to magically appear over the door with a handful of fabric that I'd inevitably only accept a quarter of.

The excursion could have easily ended badly if either of us had been in worse moods, but I surprisingly had a nice time and liked more of what she found than I expected to. As promised, a lot of neutrals, a lot of tight denim, a lot of black, some heeled boots - and a couple of dresses, because Cal reminded me that Finn liked my legs. I was positive it was a very casual comment that she'd decided should be treated like a line in the Bible, but I went with it.

We were on our way out, Cal rambling on about the importance of a good brow, when she suddenly stopped talking. I had a delayed response, slowing my feet after realizing she was no longer droning on. When I turned around and saw where she was standing, an excited smile on her face, I immediately shook my head.