6 || Meat Suit

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"No! Nope

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"No! Nope. I can't do this."

"Has anyone ever told you that can't shouldn't be a part of your vocabulary?"

"Has anyone ever told you that you're demanding? Pushy? Too optimistic?"

Leo and I are in the bathroom, and have been since the lunch bell went off five minutes ago. We're having our first fight. I told him I'd wear one outfit we bought at the mall, and I am, but it's hidden. Underneath the jacket I have covering me up is a short plaid skirt that has a little slit, and a long sleeve white ribbed crop top. It's showing and hugging everything I don't normally show. 

He leans against the sink, disappointment all in his eyes. "I just want to help you, but I can't if you don't want to be helped, girlfriend."

My arms slam to my sides. "I never asked you for help, Leo. I'm fine. It doesn't even make sense that a ghost is here to help me. Help me what? Get noticed? It doesn't work that way."

He sighs and runs his hands through his hair, messing it up. He's mad at me. I can see it in his face. His jaw is clenched and his arms keep crossing to uncross. Leo wants me to be confident, but I don't know how when I've gotten beaten down my entire life for being different. It doesn't change overnight, and it certainly doesn't change because I have a ghost following me.

He pushes himself up and stands in front of me. His beauty makes it hard to focus on being mad. I mean, seriously. How can someone be so... flawless? Even though he wears the same clothes, something is new about him every day. Whether it's the sparkle in his eyes, a brighter smile, or the sound of his laugh.

"If you were to die right now, would you be happy with the life you lived, Randi? Don't bullshit me, either."

"Yes," I answer quickly, averting my eyes from his face. His question replays over and over in my head. I try to think of a moment in my life that makes me proud enough to be okay with dying this second, and I don't have one. "Okay, fine. No."

He grins as I reach over him to fix his messy hair. Ocean eyes roaming all over my face. "Then, let's live it up. Stop caring about what these people think of you. Be the girl in the dressing room that day. She's in there."

She's not available. Please leave a message.

Yeah, when you almost kissed me, and never mentioned it afterward. I wanted to say something, but then again, I figured he'd probably try to act as if it never happened. I can't get rejected by a dead guy. That'll hurt.

"Okay! What do you suggest I do?"

"Trust me."

"What?" I ask, arching my eyebrow.

Without saying a word, he puts his hands in my hair. His eyes settle on mine as he releases my ponytail, letting my long hair fall. His fingers graze against my scalp, and it's enough to make a huge smile wipe across my face.

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