Anchor Grind (H.S. / A.U.)

Chapter 4

"What about this one?" I pull out another shirt from my closet that was now fully unpacked along with the rest of my room. 

Poppy was laying stomach down, feet in the air, flipping through a magazine on my bed while eating a fruit by the foot. "Nope." She says while flipping to the next page of the magazine.

"You didn't even look at it Poppy!" I whine out.

"I know. Because you have held up seven shirts that look the exact same at this point. Babes, you are hot. Show it off tonight. I love your band shirts, I mean hell, I would wear your entire closet cause it honestly matches mine... but tonight we are gonna' be hotties. It's my birthday! Come onnnnnn!" Poppy stands up and throws her hands on her hips to look at me under her lashes pouting.

"Your birthday was Thursday technically.... today is-"

"Tsk tsk. The small details. Doesn't count. Still my birthday. I haven't blown out the candles yet." Poppy flips her hair over her shoulder and slides next to me in front of the double doored closet. "Let's see what we have here..." 

Poppy begins using her freshly painted nails that she touched up about an hour ago on my floor to start pushing hangers back and forth. "Jesus Lana. You literally own NOTHING but band shirts. Oh wait.... here is something else... a skateboard brand. Thank god for that. You own two types of things." I shrug and start picking at my own nails now.

"Why don't you just borrow something from me? We can raid my closet next."

***

Another hour passes before finally Poppy decided our outfits were acceptable. For myself she picked a black tight long sleeve shirt that had a dress layered on top. The dress was black and white checker print and extremely tight and extremely short. She told me a million times it made me look curvy and hot, but I was not super convinced. I told her I was not going to budge on the shoes. I draw the line at having comfortable footwear. She accepted but still gave me a skeptical look when I slid on my bright red converse.

Poppy ended up in a much more scandalous looking outfit, or at least scandalous for my standards. For California standards it is still considered too much clothes probably. She had on fishnets, black boots, a white mini skirt that was VERY short, a plain black skin tight tank top that didn't even hit her navel, and a black leather jacket. Her hair was still long and straight, but this time she added a few tiny braids randomly placed in it. Her make up was just a dark liner and some gloss, matching my own. 

"How did you get your belly button pierced before turning eighteen?" I asked her, noticing the small shining piece of jewelry in her stomach.

"A place near the local skate shop doesn't really care. It's how a lot of us have our shit. Like our piercings or tattoos. We just... we don't get HUGE shit that like would make our parents blow up or cause a scene." She pointed at the small tattoos scattering across my shins and ankles. "What about you? Did your parents let you get those?"

"HA! That's a joke right? No way. I got them a few days after I turned 18 and then hid them for like... six months. One day though I forgot and left my room in shorts and I think my dad had an actual brain aneurysm."

Right when I said it, my breath hitched in my throat and my face felt hot. "Oh my god. I am so sorry Poppy. I didn't mean to... I am so sorry."

Poppy looked at me confused for a moment before realizing. She slowly shook her head, "Hey it's okay. Trust me, I told you, I have grown up a lot... you weren't saying it like that. I know what you meant. Anyways, yeah, my dad is also a hardass sometimes. But since he is single parenting it... I think that comes with the gig."