Chapter Eighteen
“Wear something nice tomorrow.” I mimicked, yanking several blouses out of my suitcase and tossing them aside. “Sleep well, dream big.” As if on their own accord, although not really, my eyes rolled.
“Lex?”
Okay, that white floral see-through thing will not look good with any of the bottoms I brought besides a pair of light jeans, and I am not wearing jeans today. Why did I even bring that top in the first place? What the hell is nice in celebrity terms anyway? Is it a dress? Is it a skirt and nice top? Is it a Miley-esque nude-colored pair of panties and bra?
“Lexie.”
“I’m busy,” I muttered, rearranging my black leggings and black skirt to go with other tops I’d laid out on my bed. Why wasn’t anything looking good together? Why did it seem like I wouldn’t be able to pull off anything I owned today?
“Clearly,” my brother stated, suddenly appearing beside me.
I pushed my damp hair out of my face, pressing a cool hand against my forehead as I stared at what I’d accomplished so far. Nothing. Then I turned to him. “I don’t know what to wear.”
He smirked a bit, but not in a way that made me want to punch him. Instead it was a bit endearing, almost caring, and he began to go through my suitcase, picking apart all of my neatly folded piles. “Why haven’t you hung anything up in the closet yet? You might as well, you’ll still be here for another two months.”
Don’t remind me. “Just haven’t gotten around to it yet.”
“So where are you guys going?” he asked, eyeing up a sunny yellow strapless thing before setting it aside.
“I have no idea,” I sighed. “Out in public.”
“That’s helpful.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Well if I were going to take a girl out for lunch or something, knowing there’d be cameras around every corner,” he began.
I winced at the thought.
“I’d probably want her in a little dress thing. Got any of those?” he finished.
“A little dress thing?”
He blinked at me. “Yeah. Like, a little summer dress. Sort of like that yellow thing, but maybe not as ugly.”
And as he cracked a smile at his own remark, I dug to the very bottom of one of my piles where the only three dresses I owned were hiding. One was multi-colored, it seemed, only it was patterned with tons of different colored daisies, all too small to really be distinguished unless you stared intensely at it. The second was off-white with navy blue stripes, tighter at the waist than the first and more flair-y at the hips. Then the third was what I remembered to be a solid mint-green color, but was actually more of a pale, lime green and fit about the same as the striped one. I stared at them all once I had them laid out, wrinkling my nose at the thought of enduring an entire afternoon in any of them.
आप पढ़ रहे हैं
Paper Airplane
फैनफिक्शनPicture this: cameras, flashing lights, loud music seemingly everywhere you go. Paparazzi, headlines, lies, lies, lies. This is Lexie McAllister’s brother Brady’s world, and she does not want to be a part of it. And for some years, she wasn’t. T...
