Fate's Return (Twisted Fate, Book 2)

Chapter Seventeen

"I gotta go—"

"Wait," I rushed. "I need your help."

She paused. "With what?"

Get straight to the point and she won't be tempted to get off the phone before helping you. "Clothes." I coughed. "I need help."

"I'll come by after school tomorrow and we can check out your closet. Or borrow something from me!"

"What about my black sweaters? Which is better, the one that is off the shoulder or the one with three-quarter-length sleeves?"

"Neither. They are both black and do nothing for the fabulous figure you've trained so hard to achieve."

I had lost count of how many times I'd told her my training had been for fighting and not to look good in her clothes, but eventually, I gave up. It was a waste of breath. Sure, the muscles of my body had become more defined as a by-product of my workouts, but I hadn't lost the softness distinctive to the female form, if that was possible. Soft and hard, dainty but fierce. I'd turned myself into a conundrum.

"But which looks better? Seriously, pretend the sweaters are white if it helps."

"Let's do this tomorrow so I can see them on you, and then decide," she said. "What's this about? I want to go find the PIN for my dad's credit card."

"First of all, I have to work tomorrow, and then it'll be too late to decide." I wasn't lying—I had to work tomorrow and it would be too late because I needed it tonight.

"I can't help without seeing them on you."

"You've seen everything I own!" Why was she always so difficult? I rolled my eyes to the ceiling and took a calming breath before trying again. "Okay, Brenan asked me out and I said yes. Now, I don't know what to wear."

"Seriously? Ow!" Something crashed on her end, but a moment later, she said, "I'm okay." She paused, and rustling cracked over the line. A moment later, it sounded like she threw herself onto her bed and bounced up before settling. "Brenan asked you out, just the two of you? Like, a real date, and not a double?"

I nodded. "Um, yeah."

"And you said yes?"

"Yes!"

"Wow." She sounded out of breath, like I'd surprised her into forgetting to breathe.

"Can you help me or not?"

"So, you like him? Like, like-like him, as in more than friends?"

"I don't know, but if I don't figure out what to wear, it won't matter because I won't be going." I lowered my voice into a whisper. "If I go in something I choose, Brenan will never want to take me in public. We'll be over before we begin. Unless..."

"Aly—"

"Do you really want to turn me into a shut-in?" I burst, hoping that using her over-dramatization would incite the kind of response she expected when it was employed to get what she wanted. "Someone who isn't fit to be seen in public?"

"Oh, my gosh, you are insane! Fine."

I held my breath and waited as she inhaled deeply.

"Wear your dark jeans, black boots, and, if you insist on black, the one that hangs over your shoulder. But leave your hair up so you can show off your neck."

"My hair is too short to put up now," I reminded her.

"Then curl it or straighten it until it has that cool choppy look," she ordered. "When are you going out?"