Poison

[ 8 ]

"No."

"Ivory?" he proposes dubiously.

"No," I snap. "Ivy."

"No...that doesn't sound right..." he trails as he purses his lips. Maya's giggles fill the room and I just glare at him. He simply stares back as if challenging me to do something. I roll my eyes and look away first, knowing good and well that if he were to challenge me at anything that I'd lose. "I think I'm going to call you Poison."

"Please don't," I grunt, cringing at the childhood nickname.

"My mind is already made up," he retorts as he gets up.

"Woah, woah, woah, where are you going? You have to do dishes," Maya quickly stops laughing.

"You guys aren't even done eating," he retorts before heading in the direction of the living room.

I glare at Maya, who pretends she doesn't feel it. "So I just texted Zack to see if he knows about any parties..." she attempts to change the subject.

"Why didn't you defend me?" I hiss and she grins in response.

"You're the one that wants to get to know him! That's him," she replies in a whisper as she points over her shoulder to the living room.

"I never said I wanted to get to know him," I correct her in a hushed tone.

Footsteps grow louder as Maya's phone lights up. "He texted back!" she announces.

"First time I've ever heard you say that about a guy," Asa mumbles as he peers into the fridge. He grabs a bottle of water before returning to the living room.

"Okay, so..." she starts, leading into party details. Soon enough, we're getting ready for tonight in her room.

"I'm going to get so many numbers tonight," Maya says as she rummages through her closet. She looks at me and back to one of the many dresses hanging up.

"I'm probably going to just hang out..." I trail awkwardly.

"No boys tonight?" she asks suggestively.

"I don't think so," I answer, which earns an understanding nod from her.

"How's this?" she asks as she pulls out a tight, black dress. I stare at it for a few seconds. "It's long on me but I figure it'll look good on you."

I look down at my chest and then at Maya's. There's clearly a difference. "I don't think I'll fit in that," I tell her as I motion to my upper half. She analyzes me for a second before reaching into a bag at the bottom of her closet. "What's that?"

"Clothes that girls have left in my old dorms and here over the last few years," she answers casually. I stare at the large quantity of items with a startled look on my face. "Don't worry, I washed them."

She tosses me a folded white shirt and I unravel it. "Where's the rest?" I ask her as I nervously assess it. I'm not opposed to showing skin but I'm lucky if I don't get a public indecency ticket for this.

"Try it on," she insists as she turns back to her closet in search of an outfit to wear. I pull off my shirt and slip on the white garment.

"Uh..." I trail as I look at myself in her mirror. The shirt comes a little higher than my belly button, which is a bit more revealing than I'm used to. It also has a drop lower than most of my own clothes, exposing a lot more cleavage than I typically do. If I raise my hands, it's over.

"You look good," she insists and I try to tug my ripped jeans up higher to cover more skin. "Not in a weird way, but I didn't realize your boobs were so big."