Waver✓

S I X T E E N

<Let's not get attached. Let's not set boundaries. Let's introduce each other to our family and friends- Ibreathemagic>

|16|

RUMMAGING THROUGH the piles of scattered gowns and jeans on the bed, I flipped a curly strand off my forehead, frustration quickly seeping through me.

I spied a ragged black jean and a white crop top amidst the clutter. Thanking the Lord, I clutched them and turned around to ask the wonderful person who stood in my room with me.

"I've found a cloth! Ripped jeans and crop top?" I asked, puffing my cheeks up. She'd better let me wear this.

"Honey, are you seriously considering that? Trousers and tops?! No. You're going to his parent's house, not a teen party," Mom declared adamant, her hand at her hips as she looked me up and down.

If I had any worries---which I didn't---that mom wouldn't permit me going out with Kian, they were for nothing. So I was not too surprised that she had agreed to allow me to go to Mr. Fields' party. Heck, she was even more excited than I was, insisting I wear a nice rock the hell out of 'em---according to her---outfit. God knows if it was my pick, I'll put on a simple tee-shirt and jeans.

Discarding them, I flopped down on the bed, letting a tired sigh escape my lips. Arrghh! When will I get ready for this party?

"If you finally see a dress worthy enough for his parents, let me know. I'll probably sleep at this rate and maybe when I wake up, the party's over," I sarcastically commented, deciding to leave it up to her. No say in the matter.

"Mother knows best, dear."

I refrained from rolling my eyes, although she'd not see me do that. A mountain of clothes obstructed me from view.

Gazing at the ceiling I thought about Kian. Throughout the week I had been sitting down with him for lunch and sometimes he took me home. Not normal right? I thought so too. When did we become buddies? I still have a hard time accepting that Kian changed. Boys are weird to figure out, for real.

"How about this one?"

Hearing her exhilarating tone, I sat up and craned my neck to where she knelt on the wooden floor this time around, clothes almost swamping her down. It's funny how I have a gazillion dresses and hardly wear them to any occasion. The Kardashians bestow on me your fashion killing sense.

Mom held a cream flowing gown with glittery butterfly designs etched all over it. There was no strap attached, so if I wore it my shoulders would be left bare. Nah, this is not my style.

Grimacing, I screeched out, "Are you kidding me?! This is a party, not an engagement or something!" Eek! She seriously thinks we have a thing, Kian and I.

Isn't there, cheeky bad mind chipped in, uncalled for. Nope, there isn't.

You sure, good mind asked. Absolutely.

"Chill. If you don't like it I'll get another. Although I don't see how you don't like it. Nwa nke a sef!" She grudgingly placed the ridiculous sheer gown aside and resumed her search of a suitable outfit for me. Hope it goes well.

Despite how tense I was, my shoulders quaked silently in laughter. Whenever mom was a tad upset, her African accent came out and she used one of those her languages. Her face went all scrunched up, lips forming a petulant pout like now. It was funny to observe, really.

All the amusement flew off once a question disturbing the hell out of me came scurrying back again. Why had I accepted Kian's invitation? Wasn't my experience at the other party enough? My mind refused to give up the answer so I lay once more and stared at the shadows dancing on the ceiling. The temptation to sleep lured me so badly but I resisted. Kudos Olay.