Best Served Fake

forty-three // not here to fuck spiders

"Yuck," said Isabelle, now secured behind the curtain again. "To Kai, not your tits Valerie. I'm sure they're wonderful. But they won't fall out, promise. Mine are escape artists who refuse to be caged."

I looked at the dress skeptically.

"I can feel your skepticism," Isabelle continued. "I was trying to put this delicately, but let me rephrase. I have big boobs, and yours are beautiful but less likely to slip out of a top."

I laughed, as Will and Kai made weird sounds of awkwardness from the fucking peanut gallery.

But when I was staring at the green dress in the mirror, I had to admit that Izzy Delaney had me to a T. It was a satin affair, which clung in the right places and hung in others, giving me the illusion of more curves than I actually had. The deep emerald brought out the colour of my eyes, and contrasted with the pale tone of my skin (which would be tanned by next Saturday, goddamn). The bottom fell to just a few inches off my ankle, and a strappy pair of heels would give me the illusion of height. The top was two pieces of satin crossed over, which Isabelle's boobs would never have fit into, but on me, it didn't even look scandalous. It was classy, appropriate and pretty.

"You get me," I called over to Izzy.

She laughed. "Fuck yeah I do."

"Show us!" called Kai.

"Nope," I said.

Kai and Will booed from outside, a deep, low rumble of dissent. They were idiots.

"You can see it at the wedding," I said, slipping out of the dress and changing back into my own clothes.

The boys readily agreed to this, probably a little tired of waiting. They hadn't tried on so much as a suit jacket. Kai, I knew, had donated all the money for his to Isabelle, and Will probably had enough wedding-appropriate outfits already. Cocktail attire was hardly uncommon in our circles, even though Will, like me, was hardly rich rich, like the Cole Knight's and Jameson Miller's of the world.

As if it was destined, Isabelle found her ideal dress in the same store, and even though I loved mine, hers was objectively more stunning. But it would be too overpowering for me; I was pretty, sure, but in a "cute" way, and this dress was a showstopper. It was a deep blue with shimmering detailing along the whole dress. There weren't really words to describe it. No one but Isabelle could pull it off, and she looked stunning in it.

She gave an obligatory twirl, and the boys clapped with mock seriousness, like they were judges on the latest season of Next Top Model.

Isabelle went to the counter to buy her dress, Will in tow, and I followed Kai outside of the store to wait for them; the line was long, but Will insisted he didn't mind waiting with Iz. I'd already grabbed mine in the time it had taken Isabelle to find hers. We could see them through the glass, Will's dark head bent down to talk to Isabelle. On our other side, streams of people passed by, chattering or texting or peering through shop windows, an ever-changing streak of colour and hundreds of different lives. Kai stared into the crowd, his eyes a little unfocused, thinking deeply. I'd never seen him like this; Kai was perpetually attentive, always in the conversation, so noticeably present I imagined that it was one of the things that made him so likeable. It was one of the things I liked about him. But I enjoyed having the opportunity to study him like this, without being interrupted. I could stare, and he wouldn't even tease me for it.

But the words bubbling in my chest were too pressing to ignore.

"I think it's nice of you to pay for Isabelle's dress," I said to Kai, nodding at Izzy. She was at the counter with Will, a bright, beaming smile on her face. Will couldn't have looked more pleased for her.