Nodus Tollens

XIV.

I stood at one of the mannequins in my sewing room and carefully sewed in place the spaghetti strap to the electric blue romper that hung off it.

My sewing room, which was previously the sixth guest room up until freshman year, was my second sanctuary right after my closet. It wasn't as organized as my closet, in fact to an outsider's eye it could be compared to the aftermath of a tornado hitting, but to me it was an organized messy.

The walls were covered with posters of my favorite designers' works as well as pinboards that had my own sketches tacked on to them. Against one of the walls was a book shelf that held books and binders of sewing patterns, and sketch books that were either filled with my drawings or completely blank.

A rather large white table stood in the middle of the room with my lavender sewing machine resting on the edge in front of a plush chair, as well as one of my back up laptops and stray papers scattered everywhere. Measuring tapes, threads, scissors, needles, and any other material a sewer would need filled up colorful bins that were cast in different areas of the room. Ten headless mannequins were lined up in a semi-circle a few feet away from the table and a rack of clothes was settled in one of the further corners.

The room was small compared to my bedroom and closet. Only half as a big. I was thinking about getting rid of the wall that separated this room from yet another guest room and expanding my area.

My eyes scanned the piece I was working on, and I couldn't help but admire how cute it was. I had it cut it in a way that took it from casual to slightly elegant, and the shaped slits in the side added a needed edge to it.

I was concentrating so hard on what I was doing I didn't hear the door open, or the footsteps that entered.

"Jules."

I glanced up to see my father leaning against the door, staring at me. I sighed and went back to what I was doing, still exceptionally ticked he brought that woman into our house.

"What do you want?"

"Juliet," he said in a flat voice. "The attitude is not necessary."

I forced a smile and looked back up at him. "Yes, daddy?"

"There, that wasn't so hard," a smile tugged at his lips. "You're running late."

"Late for what?" I tugged on one of the legs of the romper.

"School?"

"School?" I frowned, glancing at the one of the curtain covered window in the room. "It's morning already?"

"Um, yeah," he walked over and tilted my chin so he could examine my face. "How long have you been in here?"

"Since last night," I swatted his hand away so I could continue what I was doing.

"So, you didn't sleep at all?"

"I guess I just lost track of time," I glanced around at the mannequins I had clothed in a fit of manic and anxiety over the course of the night with dresses, jumpsuits, rompers, and blouses. "I just- I sew when I'm stressed, and boy am I stressed right now."

Just the thought of Lucas and Stacey's deception was enough to make my already boiling blood overheat. In order for me to get my heart rate down I had to sew, and I kept sewing until I was calm. Which, you know, didn't really happen, and thus led me to being up all night. I was going to have to pop a Xanax in order to get through the day without popping a blood vessel.

"Oh," he frowned a little. "Do you want to talk about it?

"No," I shook my head. "It's just silly boy problems. Nothing I can't handle."