Salvatore

2. Say Yes To The Dress! Teen Bride Edition

I give her my brightest smile as I remove my sunglasses and hood, "I'm eighteen actually."

"Eighteen?" she asks in disbelief. "And you're getting married? Wow," she chuckles awkwardly and I notice her eyes dart to my stomach.

Of course, she assumes I'm pregnant. I mean I don't blame her, I'd make the same assumption if someone told me they're getting married at eighteen. I might as well play into it. I just wish I wore a tighter top and ate more at lunch so I was more bloated to really sell it.

"Me and my boyfriend are just so in love, and we decided we should get married as soon as possible." I smile wider. "I mean I just love him so much and can't wait to start a family with him."

Mom nudges me as if to say shut up, but I ignore her.

"I see," Grace says, finally recovering from her shock. "And when is the wedding?"

"Two weeks," I say, still grinning.

Grace's mouth opens and closes as she looks between me, my mom, and Aunt Elena. "Two weeks?" she finally says. "Wow," Shaking her head, she finally remembers what her job is. "We definitely need to find you a dress urgently then, is there anything specific you're looking for?"

Mom and Aunt Elena rattle off a list of things we want. It's not like I don't care about my dress, I do, I've been planning my wedding since I was like twelve on Pinterest. It's just that I'm not super enthused by this wedding.

"Oh, I just remembered," I interrupt, and all three women looked at me. I gesture towards my stomach. "Can I get something with a corset? I'm not sure how big I'll be by then."

Grace nods once and darts off, eager to be away from us.

Mom gives me a look.

"What did I dooo?" I whine, knowing exactly what I did.

"Don't traumatize the poor girl."

"You have to admit, it was a little funny," I examine a lace dress on the rack. It'd be pretty if you're going for a cottagecore vibe.

She finally cracks a smile, "It was kind of funny."

"Did you see her face?" Aunt Elena laughs. "She was absolutely scandalized."

"Maybe we should tell her that my boyfriend works as a teacher, and see what she does then," I suggest.

"She'd probably call the cops," Mom snorts as Grace comes back with a few dresses.

We're there all afternoon as I try on various dresses. Of course Mom and Aunt Elena don't like any of the ones that I like.

After the fourth dress that I sort of like but they hate, I turn to them. "What do you not like about this dress?"

"It's very," Mom pauses, considering her words.

Aunt Elena jumps in, "Revealing,"

Mom nods in agreement. I look back at my reflection in the mirror. They're kinda right, I mean the dress has a plunging v-neck which I'll be honest makes my chest look amazing, and it's skin tight so I can barely move. Grace would seriously be doing me dirty if I was actually pregnant.

"Maybe I want to look like a whore, did you guys ever think of that?" I shuffle around to face them again, smoothing out the dress behind me.

Mom frowns. "Marty, two months ago you were a legal child, you're not dressing like a whore," she drops her voice to a whisper. "Also, why are you assuming clothing makes someone a whore? What are you promoting here?"