"Get Us Invites"
I tapped the door of my wardrobe, staring at the messy array of clothing in dismay. The downside to being a girl is that you have to take hours getting ready for something.
I pulled out a pink ruffle dress that I last wore to my aunt's wedding, and felt my face pucker in disgust.
My aunt Gloria really had bad taste. She made us—her bridesmaids—dress up as fluffy flamingos to her wedding while she herself looked stunning in a strapless white gown. I mean, I understand that she's the bride and all of the attention is supposed to be on her, but come on. Even I could see she was only trying to make everyone else look terrible in comparison.
I hung it back on the rack, not really knowing why I still had it in the first place, and continued searching for an appropriate dress I could wear for tomorrow.
After we finished our project, Tyler dropped me back to Dingo's to pick up my car. I had been dropping not-so-subtle hints about his birthday party tomorrow, but he chose to ignore them. Finally, I'd just ended up coming right out and saying it.
"Are you going to invite me to your birthday party or not?" I'd asked him bluntly, a little miffed that I had to be the one to say it.
Tyler had feigned a look of surprise and then groaned. "Damn. I thought you wouldn't have heard that part."
"Well I did," I'd said, turning to him with a hopeful expression. "Are you going to invite me or not?"
But a hint of a smile was playing at his lips.
"So what time should I be there?"
Tyler had chuckled and glanced at me with a sideways, reproachful, glance. "You're very persistent, aren't you?"
I'd given him a pointed stare to tell him that changing the subject won't work. Finally, he'd given in and told me the time and the theme of the party—six thirty for the time, and Old Hollywood as the theme. Tyler's mom had always wanted to design an Old Hollywood theme house, and thought that her son's birthday party would be a good opportunity to do so.
"Always thinking of others; my mom," Tyler had muttered sarcastically, rolling his eyes.
So as soon as I got home, I'd run up to my room and started searching for something to wear. Unfortunately, everything in my closet was too modern, too casual, or too…bizarre. That flamingo dress that I pulled out? That was probably the least bizarre outfit out of all the bizarre outfits.
Don't ask why I have a lot. Ask Charley and her dares.
Eventually, I realized that I have nothing in my closet that would fit the Old Hollywood theme and collapsed on my bed with a moan. I took out my cell phone and dialled Charley's number.
She picked up on the third ring.
"Hey," I spoke dejectedly, not even giving her the chance to answer. "I don't have anything to wear for tomorrow."
"What's tomorrow?" Charley asked, not missing a beat.
"Tyler's having a birthday party and—"
I heard Charley squeal excitedly and I imagined her bouncing up and down on her toes, wherever she was. I heard a little boy's cries and the clanging of metal in the background. I guessed it was probably Charley's little brother, Joey, playing with some pots or something. His current obsession is making music.
YOU ARE READING
All's Dare in Love and SoccerRomance
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