"Does this look okay?"
I asked standing in front of the mirror.
I held up my phone so Mya and Tasha could see my full outfit. They both had to work today, so they promised to FaceTime when they went on break.
"Turn around so I can see the back," Tasha ordered taking a sip from her Panda Express cup, her bright red lipstick staining the straw. She works at a makeup counter, so she can get away with wearing her elaborate make up to work.
I spun around struggling to get my back in the screen. "Can you see it?" I asked.
"Not really," Mya said. "I don't think you should wear a skirt."
"I agree," Tasha said.
"Why not?" I asked turning back around. I moved over the pile of clothes that I had already tried on and sat on my bed. I had spent all morning trying on clothes, I put on one outfit after the other trying to find the perfect thing to wear.
"It looks like you're trying too hard," Tasha said. "Besides he sees you in a skirt every day, show him something different. Wear a pair of jeans, or those new pants you got from the thrift store last week."
"The printed ones?"
"Yeah, those," she said. "They would look good with that top."
I pulled the pants out of the shopping, I had almost forgotten what they looked like, I hadn't even looked at them since I bought them.
Taking off my skirt, I slipped on the pants. The silky material glided against my legs. The pants went a little past my belly button and stopped right below my cropped shirt. The black and white checked print went well with my simple white top, but something was still missing.
"Put on your denim jacket," Mya suggested reading my mind.
I slipped on my denim jacket that I had thrown on the back of my desk chair, and it was perfect. I looked like I was trying, but not too hard.
"You look adorable, Nia," Tasha said giving her approval. "I would date you."
"I think the bar is set pretty low on that one," said Mya, earning her a swift punch in the arm from Tasha.
"Thanks," I smiled. I looked at the time on my alarm clock that sat on my dresser, eleven-thirty. I told Marcus I would be there by twelve, so if I want to make it in time I need to leave right now. Rushing to put on my sneakers, I said goodbye to Tasha and Mya.
"Bye, girlie. Call us later and tell us everything," Tasha said.
"And call me if you need to be rescued, I'll ditch those losers at the record store, no problem," Mya added.
"I will," I promised. We said our final goodbyes and hung up. I slung my backpack over my shoulder and jogged downstairs, stopping by the kitchen.
"Grandma, where are the car keys?" She sat at the kitchen table clipping next week's coupons.
Looking up from her coupon clippings, she waved her scissors toward the kitchen counter. "They're over there."
I grabbed her keys from the counter. "Well don't you look cute. Your mother had some pants just like that when she was younger," she told me.
"Really?" I asked spinning the key ring around my index finger.
"Yes, she used to wear them all the time," she chuckled to herself. "Your father hated them, said she looked like M.C. Hammer. But that didn't stop her ."
YOU ARE READING
East Chapel AcademyTeen Fiction
[unedited] East Chapel Academy Only the kids of the rich and elite go to East Chapel Academy. Marcus Garrett comes from a large family of success, his parent are rich, his grandparents are rich, and he's destined to be rich too. He's gone to East C...