Unwanted By Him (On Hold, sorry!!)

Oh Joy

“Alright” Emily starts, acting like she didn’t hear what I said.  “Your hair is naturally wavy, so let’s show that off.” I honestly have no clue how she knows my hair is wavy; because normally it’s up it a ponytail or it’s straighten. 

A bucket of chilly water is poured on my head.  I gasp, shocked, and send a hardcore glare in Emily’s direction.  “What was that for!” I exclaimed. 

“We needed your hair soaked” Emily looks innocently in my direction.  I sigh.  I should know better than to space out when Emily’s around. 

“Okays, it’s wet.  Now what?” I ask, horrible images running though my brain at what Emily might do.  Well, I’m being a little over dramatic, but still!

“We make mini braids.  Now on your knees” Emily tells me.  I do as she says (once again) and get on my knees.  I stare into space as Emily makes many, many, mini braids in my hair and chats my ear off. 

“Done” Emily says happily.  “Now let’s get dressed.  I’m picking out your outfit” Emily says before I can even stand up.

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing now?” I ask, looking down at my oversized blue sweatshirt with the words ‘Undefeated’ then a picture of a wolf then under the picture the word ‘Wolves’ with a pair of brown sweatpants.  The outfit is what started me crying in the first place, because the sweatshirt was from my old school.  Yeah, so funny, a school with werewolves’ mascot is wolves.  Hahaha. 

“Everything” Emily says, I reach out and lightly hit her shoulder, “Not offence” she adds quickly.  “You wear that thing almost every day.” she halfway explains herself. 

Then, after shoving me onto my king-sized me, she disappears into my closet.  Five minutes later Emily emerges with a lot more than just one pair of pants, and one shirt in her arms.   She laid all the outfits on the bed.  “Pick what one you want” she said.  I stood out and looked at the four different outfits.  The first outfit had white skinny jeans with a very tight fitting light blue shirt with the words HOLISTER written up and down the shirt, with black flip-flops.  I shook my head, it was almost the peak of summer, and I was not going to wear pants. 

The second outfit was slightly a smarter choice then the first one.  It was a loose red shirt that had a white tank top under it, along with blue short shorts and white flip-flops.  That outfit was okay, but I’m not sure if I’d look good in short shorts, and if I even wanted to know if I looked good in them. 

The second to last outfit was by far the worst one yet.  The shorts were so short that I was sure you could see my underwear if I bended down wearing those.  I shuddered just imagining that.  The shirt appeared to be way to skin tight and too low cut for me.  Instead of flip flops the outfit had golden ballet shoes.  I’m for sure not wearing anything like that. 

The last outfit was perfect.  It was a loose cream colored shirt with thin brown stripes on it.  The shirt was not low cut at all, adding to my like toward it.  The shorts Emily had paired with it was about a hand length long, the perfect idea of what shorts should be.  With the outfit was very flat (and not foam) flip-flips that were outlines brown with silky golden fabric where you foot would go.  I loved it. 

“The forth one” I told Emily, pointing at it.  She picked it up and shoved it into my arms.

“Then go put it on” she grinned at him, pushing me toward the bathroom.  “And be careful to not mess up your braids!” She called out to warn me. 

In the bathroom I quickly changed into the silky shirt, then the denim shorts.  I slipped on the flip-flops that were only about one centimeter thick.  It felt good, and hopefully looked good.  I refused to look in a full body mirror, because every time I did I thought how the outfit looks better on other people, and I hated doing that.