Romeo & Juliet ✅ Completed✅

What Party?

Out fit that Juliet wore to the party. Up top
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What Party?: Chapter 9
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"Darling, don't you have a party to go to?" My mom's voice rings from the door way of my bedroom. "Darling?"

"Whatmpartymareyoutalkingmabout?" I said, but having my voice muffled by the pillows, I readjust myself. "What party?" I ask innocently. There was no way in hell that I was going to that party. But it didn't seem like I really had a choice. My parents push me to be social, so when an event that involves being socially active occurs, they force me to go.

"Oh don't give me that shit." She rolled her eyes, stepping into my room.

"Mom!" I glare at her in disapproval. "You're the parent here. You're not suppose to cuss in front of me. It's called good parenting." I walk up behind her, as she rummaged through my closet.

"Well then I'm not a good parent." She shrugged, pulling out a large gray sweater, that was more of a dress than a sweater itself. "You're going to that party, no arguing." I frown, now knowing there was no getting out of it. "I bought you all these clothes, and you haven't worn any of them." She huffed. Shoving the sweater at me, she turns back around to look through. "Here, wear this plaid shirt over the sweater, and...here's some black boots. Now go change. I'll do your hair next." She walked out, leaving me to myself.

Laying out the attire she picked for me, I examine it carefully. It's always a good thing to have an art teacher as a parent, especially when it comes to picking out what to wear.

After putting the clothes on,  open the door to reveal an impatient mother, pacing back and forth in the hall. "Mom, I'm done." Her head snapped up, looking me over.

"Hmm. The plaid shirt doesn't look right." She pondered. "Put it around your waist." She stepped back to look at her piece of art. "Perfect!" She chirped. "Now let's go do your hair. Oh, I may need to warn you that there will be some cutting of hair." She said one last time, before storming into my room.

Did she just say she was going to cut my hair?

Oh, hell no!

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"Mom, I'm scared." I whined, stirring around in my seat.

"You haven't even seen it yet." She pinched my arm.

"Ow!" I turn to glare at her, but only to be pinched again. "What the heck?!"

"Stop moving." She hissed. She pulled out a comb, combing my hair through. "And finished. You may look now." Facing me, she placed a mirror into my hand. "What do you think?"

I stare, and stare, and stare. "Mom...t-this is...I don't know what to say." I gasped, placing a hand to my hair. I looked completely and absolutely different. My hair was cut short down to my shoulders, and was filled with blonde highlights.

I look fucking hot. I thought, as I stepped up to the full size mirror.

"Well?" She looked over at me.

"I love it!" I jump onto her, nearly knocking her off her feet. "Thank you, thank you, thank you." I squealed, hugging her tighter. "Mom this is amazing." I gushed, every now and then, glancing at myself in the mirror. Damn, did I look hot.