I Love To Hate You

Chapter 33: "I'm not talking about a hooker dress and giving you a pole."

Tutoring Noah was like slitting my wrists, but I think I’m starting to get used to it. I think.

My Dad hasn’t come into contact with me again and Cassidy hasn’t been in school for the past two days.

Which could be seen as really good, or really, very, bad.

It’s finally Saturday and Noah has just left my apartment after some seriously devastating tutoring.

The boy has some deadly issues when it comes to actually learning something other than a new sex position.

All week Lilly has been conspiring with my about this stupid party, about where and when it is and how this ‘mission’ will pan out. I think she has been watching too many war films recently.

She is honestly like an old drill sergeant.

After ‘careful’ planning she finally decided on coming around to my apartment to get changed.

It was weird acting like everything was normal with Lily, acting like I didn’t have a murderer after me and that the murderer was my Dad.

Since Lily didn’t know about any of that she didn’t act like the guys did when they were around me. Like I was about to break apart and never get back up.

Even Jaden hardly spoke to me anymore.

It was depressing.

There was a gentle rapping front my front door and I rose from the sofa to answer it.

“Come in Lilly,” I yawned as I opened the door wider to reveal the tomboy carrying three huge bags.

She stumbled inside and dumped the bags to the ground.

“Hey Elyon!” She gushed smiling wildly her usual peppy self-intact. I couldn’t help but get caught up in her excitement.

“Hey! What’s with the bags? Are we murdering Rose tonight too and these are the tools to do so.”

Lily laughed and rolled her eyes.

“Nope, just some clothes I brought over. I thought it would be a good idea to see what fits you best.” She bent down to one of the bags and began pulling all manners of coloured materials from inside.

“What? No way. Why do I need to dress up? I thought we were only going in and coming straight back out?” I began to protest as she laid out some of the outfits onto my floor.

They all looked like a rainbow had spat on them.

She paused in what she was doing to look up at me.

“We are but we don’t want to get caught straight away either. If you go in dressed like you are now you will stick out like a sore thumb, don’t worry. I’m not talking about shoving you into a hooker dress and giving you a pole. It’s all pretty modest stuff.” She explained patiently smiling.

I smiled slightly and carefully got onto my knees beside her.

“Okay, gimme your best shot.”

I hate it already.

“And you are done!” Lily proclaimed fixing the last piece of my hair into place.

I sighed gratefully and looked in the mirror she had sat out in front of us.

After many, many, wardrobe changes she had allowed me to wear the only pair of jeans she brought which were those weird leather type that clung to me like a rash, a rash I knew I would have with wearing these things, and a black Jack Danniels top that had no sleeves and fell to my thighs. She then shoved a spiky bracelet on my wrist, that I argued could be used as a weapon, and demanded that I wore an extremely high pair of red high heels because the outfit ‘needed colour.’ Apparently.