I let out a deep breath before leaned in again and pecked his lips once more. It was probably for three seconds this time around. I pulled back and August and I gazed into each other's eyes. I felt blood rush into my cheeks as he placed his hand on...
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"Mom!" I stomped my foot like a four-year-old throwing a tantrum. Tiredly, I leaned against the front door. The emotion of frustration was exploding out of me. I let out a heavy sigh for the sixth time in a row. My aggravation was reaching its peak. It was all because of my mom and her over-the-top antics.
"Girl, can you relax?" Mom huffed at me with no consideration of me and how I felt this morning.
"Mom, come on." I groaned.
"Car quit being dramatic. Just one more picture." She said dismissively. There was an eager twinkle in her eyes. It was evident that she was more enthusiastic about this day than I was. I am well aware that today is a monumental day. It's the first day of my senior year in high school. My only desire was to return to the warmth of my bed.
"Alright, now turn to the side." Mom directed me.
Just mere seconds ago, she assured me that she was only going to take one more picture. I did not have the energy to fight. I decided to follow suit and follow her demands. I turned to the right and proceeded to pose for the endless amount of photos my insane mother was taking of me.
"My baby is so beautiful." My mom smiled.
For as long as I can remember my mom in particular has gone out of the way to instill confidence in me. She constantly calls me beautiful and I'm forever grateful for her.
"Thanks, mom." I smiled. "Can we go now?" I mumbled softly.
I knew she would be over the top, but I did not expect it to be to this extent. I stood by the door, impatiently waiting for my mom to finish.
"Fine." Mom grinned as she skimmed through her phone at all of the photos she had just taken of me.
It is universally regarded that you should look your best on the first day of school. I woke up this morning and took extra time with my hair and makeup. I went to the hair salon yesterday afternoon. Cara, the woman who has been doing my hair since I was practically a baby, has outdone herself. My hair was flowing down my back. I spent a good portion of my day with her doing my hair. I can't complain too much. She washed my hair thoroughly, set my hair in rollersets, and did a treatment on my hair. When I took the rollers out of my hair this morning, I nearly cried from the flawlessness of my curls.
I opted to dress simply today. After I slipped on my black tight, I wore a black turtle neck sweater and paired it with a mini caramel-colored plaid skirt. Thankfully the Rick Owen sneakers I ordered last week miraculously made it to my mailbox last night. They complemented my outfit perfectly.
Julie ran down the stairs and we smiled at each other. She wore a black crop top and caramel-colored cargo pants. We planned our outfits last night.
It's no secret, that Julie and I have opposing styles. I have more of a preppy style, while my sister is more grungy. Despite that, we have color-coordinated our outfits for years. If I were to have worn a red dress, Julie would have incorporated red into her outfit one way or the other.
