Tanner
After a long, hot shower, I'm finally rid of the rain and the mud and the bone-chilling cold.
I got rained on some more while I jogged back to school and nearly froze on the motorcycle coming home. I didn't want to take my blazer back from Joe and didn't have my motorcycle jacket today. A soaked sweater is not quite as effective as I was promised it would be.
Now I'm all snug in warm comfortable sweats and really tempted to join the sleeping dog on my bed and pull the duvet over my head until I have to get up for my new job in the mistress of Satan's kitchen tomorrow...
I might even sleep a little.
Not a good idea; it's not even 4pm yet. I have to cook tomorrow's lunch requests, and I also want to try some new ideas for Molly; besides, the exams start next week.
Pretending to be a good student, I sit down at my desk to prove to myself that I can actually study sometimes. I've just taken out my math books when my bedroom door bursts open and in charges a dead moth in an explosion of dust and mangled fairy wings. She makes a dive for my bed, where she lies face down in a cloud of despair.
Wow! And she's always bitching about me barging into her room without knocking.
Dutchess lifts her head off my pillows and swivels around to sniff Paisley's hair. Poor Ewok scurries for shelter in his cage. My hamster is a little skittish and for good reason, this room has seen its share of strange activities, some of them quite noisy too.
"Can I help you, Miss?" I ask since Paisley is apparently just going to lie there and suffocate herself in my bedding. Well, if I'd still been in the process of getting dressed, that move would've saved her from having to see my - and I quote - "instrument of chaos and mayhem" again, something she's always growling about even when she's the one invading my space. I'm still unsure what exactly it is that the beast gets up to in her imagination.
Paisley pushes herself into a sitting position that once again has me convinced that the girl's hips must be completely double-jointed or detachable. Maybe both. Her legs are bent back at the knees and she is sitting flat between her feet.
Freaky as hell.
"That is a new level of whoa!" I give my very eloquent opinion of the mouldy fairy sitting on my bed.
Paisley is wearing a ballet tutu that was the pride of Titania, Queen of the Fairies' spring collection about 500 years ago. Now it's just a bunch of cobwebs held together by pure stubbornness. One shoulder has lost its strap, and the frayed fabric is slowly sliding down Paisley's breast. She grabs it and holds it in place, miserably peering at me.
"Spoilsport," I say when she stops that piece of the bodice from exposing her, and she clicks her tongue at me.
"Duct tape," she says through clenched teeth. "Do we have any? I'm gonna paste this thing to my body and patch the holes with it."
"That's gonna look soooo cool, Paise," I chuckle, rising from my chair to sit on the bed next to her, scratching Dutchess's ears when she crawls into the space behind us for some affection.
"I'm supposed to do the dance of the sugar plum fairy from The Nutcracker for my evaluation; now I'll just look like the fairy that got caught in a nutcracker."
Sugar Plum Fairy.
It's the second time I hear that name today and I wince, thinking of the previous time. Speaking of nutcrackers... feisty friggin' bitch! If Danny pisses me off tomorrow, she's going into the chilli... head first... though she'll probably cause the customers some serious heartburn.
"Does the costume really matter that much? Aren't your moves more important? You'll dazzle them with your skills, just like you always do, Brat."
"The only thing I'll be dazzling them with is my naked butt when I lose my costume bit by bit until it's scattered all over the stage."
"Well, that might not be so bad," I grin, "if you flash your boobs at them, they might not care about anything else much. Remember, councilman Brockner is on the committee and he is only interested in ballet because he likes to look at the girls' legs...
"Or is it the guys he's looking at? I'm not sure, but I still think you'll make his day. He's like 140 years old, he probably doesn't get many days. See it as a service to mankind..."
"I don't have boobs." She says it in such a dejected way that I'm almost convinced that she really saw it as a valid option.
"Hey, Brat," I laugh, wrapping an arm around her neck to pull her head in for a rub. I swear I just heard another rip spreading in the material of her shitty dress. "Don't you have a friend these days that actually likes doing crap like sewing?"
Paisley wrestles her head out of my grasp, complaining that I'm messing up her hair. Hell, since when does she care about stuff like that? I let her go, but mostly just because I'm afraid that I'll really kill her costume. I'm also no longer entirely sure that this is my authentic cousin.
"I thought about asking Alice, but she already fixed that skirt for me and she's making my dress for the matric dance. I'm starting to feel needy, so... no... I'm going to pick some delicious monster leaves to staple to the bodice and paste some toilet paper to the skirt and then you can just duct tape it all to my body... It's going to be awesome."
"Yeah, sounds... yeah..."
Paisley sags, collapsing into my side and I put an arm around her. "I really think it's okay to ask Willow for help. For some reason, she likes helping people and she likes you. It's okay for friends to need each other, you know?"
"I don't need her. I just need you and Jake and Ash and Hunny and Dex and Ahmi and Ro and Joe and Uncle Ryan and Aunt Beth... and Aunt Augusta... Shit! I'm so friggin' needy! Why do I need so many people all of a sudden?!"
I laugh, pulling her braid to make her look up at me. "You're an idiot and I think your blood sugar took a dive because you're being a whiny idiot. Let's go grab you something to eat."
She nods her head, grinning, clearly liking that idea and when I stand up, she gets to her feet and jumps from the bed onto my back.
Seriously, she's always jumping on people and their beds!
I catch her legs, holding her in place. Sometimes I wonder if Paisley is still a toddler. She'll be having her 17th birthday during the school holidays. That birthday should just be put on hold until she catches up... another ten years should do it.
"What the hell do you mean you need Aunt Augusta?" I ask, finally registering what she'd said.
"Well, now that I'm older, I kinda appreciate how much hell we must've put her through. She never volunteered to raise three kids and their attachments and we never tried to make it easy for her. She never completely abandoned us and when Jake was doing our budget this weekend, I noticed that the trust doesn't pay her as much as I thought it did... and she donates quite a lot of her pension to the ballet club too.
"She even bought me new ballet pointes on Monday, because she says my old ones make me look like a beggar, so she's forced to tell people that I'm just a random kid she found on the street and brought to the ballet company, but they don't believe her. She's getting really old now and... I feel a little bad.."
I stop in the middle of the living area, turning my head to smirk at her profile where her head is lolling over my shoulder. None of us hates the old bat, but Jake is the only one who's ever really gotten along with her.
Since she moved out, the rest of our relationships with her haven't been all fire and brimstone anymore, but I won't call us particularly close. She has done some things for us through the years, and having her in our lives does have some benefits now and then, but Paisley is sounding downright nostalgic right now.
"I think this mouldy dress is affecting your brain or Prissy is a seriously good influence on you. It's scary either way." When I start to walk again, Paisley wraps her arms around my neck a little tighter and presses her soft cheek against mine.
"I'm just growing up," says the girl sitting on my back, wearing a torn tutu with bent fairy wings. "I don't like it much."
♫
Willow
It felt like hours, but there was finally a short break in the rain and I made use of it to take Piddles for a walk. We didn't even make it to the park before he'd finished his business and was pulling me back home, clearly not in the mood to leave the house.
My annoyance soon turned to gratitude when the rain started again just as I was closing the front door behind us. Little-Piddle has never liked the rain, it makes him extremely nervous.
I'm satisfied with how I've grouped the first shelf of books in the study according to their genre and sorted them alphabetically by author. Later, I'll ask Uncle Ryan to help me group the science and technology books according to their topics as well because I got lost with a few of them.
All the books are back on their shelf and when I get the time again, I'll start with the second row. Once I'm certain that they are all captured in the workbook, I'll sort them into their places, moving books from one shelf to another, where required. I've put temporary paper markings between the sorted sections of books for now.
The sorting and re-shelving did not take long, but I simply couldn't be alone in the study anymore. I miss Hunter and I'm cold and I wonder where he is and if he is safe and warm and out of this horrible weather.
I'm just settling down on my bed with my Biology textbook when there is a knock on my bedroom door.
I am so relieved that Hunter is finally home!
I thought I heard his motorcycle a minute ago, but I've heard his motorcycle so many times this afternoon, just for it to not be him. I must've really made him feel extremely awkward this morning if he is knocking on the door leading into the hallway instead of just barging in through the bathroom the way he normally does.
I've closed the door into the hallway because there's a bit of a draft and I'm not sure where it is coming from.
Probably from my miserable soul!
"Come in," I call, but that just produces another knock. I put my book down and leave my bed to open the door. "Hunter, what are you doing?" I laugh, pulling open the door.
It is not Hunter!
"Hey, Prissy, I brought you something," Tanner says, grinning at me and for a second I'm too confused to even react. That's right! Hunter didn't use his motorcycle today, he is driving Aunt Beth's car.
"It's a dead moth, can you fix it?"
"What?" Now I'm even hearing strange things.
Tanner moves out of the way and pulls Paisley from behind his back. She is wearing a motorcycle jacket three sizes too big for her and for some reason there are twisted shear wings sprouting from the back of the jacket. It takes me a few seconds to see the elastic loops around her shoulders. A dilapidated net skirt sticks out from under the bottom edge of the charcoal jacket and Paisley's legs are covered by sweatpants. To round it all off, she's wearing black combat boots.
"Wow, I love the look," I tell her and she glares at me. "It's very gangster-fairy-like."
Tanner laughs, patting Paisley's head. Has she been on the back of his motorcycle dressed like that? Why? It must've been quite the spectacle to behold. Tanner pulls the wings off her and hands them to me while Paisley removes his jacket.
"Good luck with this one," he says with a grimace. "She bites. See you guys later."
With that, he takes the jacket from Paisley and strolls down the hallway to the foyer. I'm a little sad to see him go. I watch until he disappears through the arch and I hear the front door open and close behind him.
Paisley is looking at me with a rather forlorn expression on her face when I turn my attention to her and I'm not just imagining it due to the utterly dismal appearance of her costume. I'm startled when she suddenly has to grab her dainty right breast and pop it back into the flap of loose material of the bodice, from where it slipped.
"What happened?" I ask, pulling her into my bedroom.
"The main bitch happened. She hi-jacked my costume and most of the others that could still work are all in for repairs. This is all that was left. The other tutu was yellow, which isn't really very Sugar Plum-ish, but it was the only classical tutu that was left..."
Classical tutus usually have short, stiff skirts, protruding horizontally from the waist. The one Paisley is wearing is short and stiff and might have stood out nicely years ago, but right now it is shredded and has pieces hanging limply around her thighs. The colour has faded from what might have once been lilac to an unpleasant shade of grey.
"I could wear a romantic tutu, you know, the ones with the long bell-shaped skirts, but I'm doing the dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy and my version has a lot of fast and fancy leg-and footwork, I want them to stand out, not be mostly hidden."
"They definitely won't stand out if your breast keeps on falling out like that," I blush, trying not to laugh when the appendage in question once again makes a cheeky appearance. Paisley growls softly and instead of putting her breast back in the bodice, she pulls off the entire costume. She hands it to me and strolls topless into Hunter's bedroom. A few seconds later, she returns wearing a hoody she found on his bed and fishes frilly baby-doll panties from the pocket of her sweatpants.
"It keeps on falling off. It's not attached to the bodice and the elastic is gone," she complains, handing it to me and dropping herself on my bed. While she goes through the handful of books on my nightstand, I lay her costume out on the other side of my bed, picking up each piece for separate inspection.
"Can you help me... please?" she mutters after a while peering at me over the top edge of Sharks Ahoy and I can now see just how stressed she really is. That please at the end there almost choked the girl. The evaluation is very important to her and this costume is a wreck.
"Well... yes and no... When do you need it?"
"The evaluation is Saturday morning, but I need to rehearse in it tomorrow, so..." she pulls a face, her shoulders sagging.
Why didn't she come to me sooner?
"What time tomorrow? Paisley, I'd love to help and this costume looks terrible, I can still work with most of it, but I'm sorry, I don't have everything I need. Does Briar Cove even have a haberdashery?" I'm thinking of asking Hunter to take me shopping after school tomorrow, but even then I'll never be able to mend it in time for Paisley's rehearsal unless it is quite late.
"Like a place that sells material and stuff?"
I nod my head sceptically, feeling really bad about my inability to help. I've run my entire inventory of fabrics and lace and other items that could possibly be useful through my mind and the results are not good. I could do a few things to at least stop her costume from falling apart, but it is not going to look great. It will probably have to do though.
"Buttons and Baubles," she suddenly says, snapping her fingers. "It's near the main beach. I think they close in an hour... well, a bit less than an hour..."
I felt a fluttering of hope, but it is dying again. How are we going to find someone to come over here and take us there in time? I don't think both of us will fit on Tanner's motorcycle if I manage to call him back.
"We don't have transport. I'll... I'll call Hunter. I'm not sure where he is but..."
"We're taking the bus," Paisley says looking at her phone. "There's one in four minutes," she says, showing me the screen where a transport app is open. I thought she was looking for someone to call. "We could make it if we run, right now!"
I anxiously fumble, trying to grab my raincoat and my purse from my coat tree and once I finally have it in my hands, I pull on my sneakers and run to join Paisley at the front door.
How many minutes have I wasted? How many?!
Paisley grabs a black waterproof jacket from the coat rack while she's pulling open the door and off we go. I'm not as fast as she is and though it is not raining right now, there is a strong wind blowing. It's terribly cold and I'm shivering, making it hard to run properly. I also didn't tie my sneakers and am in serious peril of losing them.
I'm awfully afraid that I'll cause us to miss this bus she was talking about and am immensely relieved when we turn right at the junction and Paisley stops less than the distance of a block later.
There is indeed a bus stop!
I've never been in this part of this street before. Hunter uses this road on our route to school, but he turns in the opposite direction when he leaves our street. We walked in this direction when we went to watch the sunset on the beach that fateful day, but we were on the other side of the road and turned onto a pathway between two houses.
I never even noticed this wonderful sample of modern technology so near our home. It even has a bench with a canopy. That day I was also fully focused on Hunter, I wouldn't have noticed even if a bus drove past us.
"Do I need cash for a ticket? I only have my card."
"Busses are free as long as you get on and off within Briar Cove's boundaries, you only start to pay once you leave town, but it's not expensive and you can pay by card. If you want to use the bus often, you can buy a transport card and just charge it when it's empty. You can then just tap on and tap off to pay, it deducts money from your account according to where you got on and off."
"How marvellous!" I couldn't stop the awed exclamation from crossing my lips and wish I had when Paisley looks at me with one eyebrow raised incredulously.
"You didn't have busses in Mount Sovereign?" she snorts.
I blink at Paisley, suddenly extremely uncomfortable, not sure how to answer that question. "I... yes... of course..."
I had a chauffeur in Mount Sovereign, I wasn't allowed to use public transport. I've always longed for the freedom it provides for someone like me who has neither car, nor license, nor bicycle, but Grandmother was dead set against it. Public transport is for commoners, after all. After all these years, I'm still not quite certain exactly who or what these commoners are supposed to be.
Paisley is giving me odd looks now, but the bus arrives and we quickly step onto it and take our seats. There aren't many people on the bus. We can sit practically anywhere we want. Most people will probably be taking the bus into our neighbourhood this time of day, rather than out of it.
"This is exciting," I giggle, looking around me at the other travellers and out the windows at the houses speeding by. I ignore the shocked expression Paisley is directing at me and giggle again, enjoying the zig-zag route the driver is taking through the neighbourhood, diverting from the street that ultimately connects to the main road.
He stops every now and then to pick people up and drop others off, but mostly he just slows down when he's nearing stops, waiting to see if passengers ring the bell or rise. The bus finally joins the main road we always take to school and I'm starting to see some familiar areas.
"I could take the bus to school!" I exclaim overwhelmed by joy and gratitude when we drive past the school and I receive another who-is-this-alien look from Paisley. "Or home, nobody needs to drop me off."
"Alice, why are you so mean?" Now I am the one giving her that look. "The guys like dropping you off. Just go with it or you'll hurt their feelings."
That makes absolutely no sense.
I'm almost disappointed when Paisley rings the bell to let the driver know that we want to get off at an upcoming stop. "Thank you!" I call out to the driver and hurry after the girl. Sometimes, she has the patience of a wild boar and I have to run to keep up.
Buttons and Baubles is not a very large shop, but it really has something of everything, except groceries, but there are a couple of vending machines with cold drinks and snacks. Paisley drags me through one section after another through a claustrophobic maze of shelves, until we're surrounded by rolls of material and other sewing accessories. This might become one of my favourite stores.
Perfect!
She disappears after depositing me in the haberdashery section and soon returns with a basket. I'm surprised by how patiently she allows me to measure pieces of fabric and lengths of ribbon on her and soon the basket is filled with more than enough items to fix her costume. The store doesn't have a wide range of fabrics and items to choose from, but it will do in a pinch. There is a lovely sign posted on a wall telling customers that if they cannot find what they're looking for, they can ask the shop assistant to order it for them.
How nice!
I think I can do something pretty with what I'm buying and a few things I have at home. Paisley's eyes widen when I add a small fabric paint set to my basket.
"What are you planning, Alice?" she asks looking a little uncertain now.
"You'll see. I'm done, we can go."
I start toward the cashiers, but Paisley is not following, she's looking at the toes of her boots, chewing her bottom lip.
"Is something wrong?"
"I don't think I can afford all of this, Willow..." she says, looking embarrassed. She's right, the store is rather pricey, but I've seen worse. "We need to thin it out... a lot."
"No way! I need these things. You may not know this, Paisley, but when I create or fix a tutu, I go big or I go home. I want to make the tutu worthy of your talent. Don't worry, I'm buying this, I'm keeping the leftovers for my doll fashions... and future costume meltdowns. It's all good. Let's go."
"Really? I... I'll pay you back... in instalments."
"What?! No! I have other payment terms I wanted to discuss with you," I smile at her and my smile possibly seems a little lascivious, because Paisley makes a face at me.
"I'm not lending you Ashy for a roll in the hay..."
"What?!" she might be joking, but I cannot tell for sure, she is pulling a rather convincing sulky face. I shake my head, laughing. "Well, that is very disappointing, but what I want is to see my costume on stage. Can I watch you dance on Saturday?"
Paisley blinks at me and then she smiles. "That's what you want." I nod my head enthusiastically, glad that I might not have to beg after all. I was planning on begging the minute I heard about this evaluation. "I could sneak you in..."
"Really?! Awesome! That's a deal then. I make this costume and you dance for me in it. I'm so excited!" I almost skip to the cashier.
♪
"Say, Alice," Paisley says once we're back on the sidewalk. "Would you like to see many, many more of your costumes on stage?"
"What exactly are you saying?"
"I'm saying that our ballet company's costumes are all falling apart, constantly going to Thunder Ridge for costly, time-consuming repairs that don't last very long. We desperately need an actual costume manager to help us out. You won't get paid, but they will at least cover the costs if you keep them low enough and you'll get free tickets to any show you want. We had someone for a while the year before last, she was quite good, but she got married and moved away."
"Do you mean it?!" I am too happy to say more than that and Paisley shrugs, looking a little embarrassed now.
"Well, I could ask and see... If you're interested."
I want to say yes, but all I can manage is an excited giggle, bobbing my head like it's balanced on a spring.
♫
Paisley
I've never seen someone get this excited about strolling around in our tiny little town before and what was that reaction on the bus? One would swear that Willow's never been on one before. Did she really grow up in Mount Sovereign, one of the most advanced cities we have in this country or did she live on a deserted island?
Whatever the reason for her exuberance, it took away any hurry I felt to get home. Instead, I'm taking her on a tour and she's apparently loving it. She nearly added a puddle to the already puddle-filled pavement when she saw Miss Phoebe's Antiques and Retro shop. I was a little sad that it was closed already and promised to come back with her soon so that she can go gasp and giggle about everything inside.
It's contagious!
It must be because when I see that the local thrift shop is still open, I'm struck by sudden inspiration to change my style. Something I haven't cared about since... ever! I've always been perfectly happy with messy hair and track pants and oversized hand-me-down sweaters from the boys.
Willow is excited to see the small shop, but for completely different reasons. For her, it's all about the wonderful idea of selling used clothing to gather funds to help the needy and she is very interested in seeing the things people donate to be sold.
I just want to shop here because it's cheap, it caters for poor people looking to buy things too, there's even a free section at the back, but I can afford to buy a few nice things. I'm not a complete charity case yet.
We often drop off some of our clothes that are still good, but no longer fit. I've also often found a few things I needed for school and pieces of clothing to prevent me from walking around naked or dressed in clothes way too big for me.
The guys and Aunt Beth often buy me clothes, but I don't want them spending their money on me. I want to get a job of my own, but the ballet is keeping me too busy and Aunt Augusta gives me pocket money to bribe me to keep going. I just never really knew what I liked before. It didn't seem important.
I don't know why I care now.
To be honest, Aunt Augusta doesn't have to bribe me to do ballet. I love the freedom I feel while I'm flying on stage. It makes all the blisters and muscle aches worth it. I've been doing it from a very early age and it is part of who I am now. I don't want to do it professionally, though, I just enjoy it for what it is.
"Hey, Alice. What kind of clothes do you think suits me?" I regret the question almost as soon as I've asked it. The words felt strange and lumpy in my mouth and left an odd taste in their wake. Willow must think I'm kidding around again because she looks me up and down and darts over to what looks like old army uniforms.
"You could wear this jacket and we can get you a hard hat and some gum boots."
"Oh, thank you so much," I chuckle and turn away. Maybe she's not joking, maybe that is really what she thinks will suit me.
This was a stupid idea.
I'm about to ask Willow if we can go home now, but she's disappeared somewhere and a few feet from where I'm standing there are long ruffle hemmed Boho swing skirts, completely distracting me. Well, that's what the sign above them calls them. They look like the type of skirts worn by flower children and gipsies. They're made from various fabrics all covered in tiny flowers of different colour themes.
I take one from the rack and hold it against me from my hip down to my ankle and I rather like the contrast of the feminine skirt with my black boots. The skirt has a dark green background and is covered in small burgundy, light green and white flowers. I'm suddenly embarrassed by the stupid smile on my face and am about to put the skirt back when Willow speaks next to me.
"This colour will really bring..." she stops, looking in surprise at the skirt I'm trying to hide and sneak back onto the hanger rack. "Match that skirt so well. You have to try it on, Paisley, it is going to be stunning!"
I take the burgundy top she's handing me, mostly because she's practically forcing it into my hands. It is quite plain and straightforward, with long sleeves and a round scooped neck, almost like a t-shirt, but the material is softer and more stretchy. The beautiful colour is its only adornment. It will look really good with the skirt and I like its simplicity. I smile, feeling a little uncertain, but Willow is literally driving me to the nearest fitting room cubicle.
When did she become so bossy? That's my job!
I'm startled to see myself in the mirror when I'm finally wearing the top and the skirt. I love how the fabric feels against my skin and the way the skirt flows around my boots is rather thrilling. I'm feeling a little excited now and I almost... giggle!
What the hell?!
"Are you done? Can I see? Please, can I see?" Who is this annoying person? I miss the Willow who hardly ever makes a squeak. I reluctantly open the cubicle door and almost shut it again when I see the startled expression on her face.
"Yeah, you're right, it's..."
"Beautiful! Paisley, you look amazing!" Willow stops me from closing the door and her face is filled with such wonder, that I almost believe her. "It can be even better," she says after staring at me for way too long to be comfortable, biting her lip contemplatively.
Now I'm being pulled to a shelf with v-necked spaghetti strap tops. Willow browses through the stacks and finds a plain light baby green one, which she orders me to pull on over the burgundy top.
Next, she's dragging me to the jewellery section where she searches through pretty chains and strings of beads and hangs a couple of them around my neck to various levels on my chest. She also finds a handful of bracelets and a couple of pairs of nice dangly earrings. I'm surprised that I rather like the things she's hanging on me and putting in my hands.
"Now you're just turning me into a Christmas tree," I complain, but Willow deftly continues to accessorise, discarding one necklace in favour of another, tying and untying belts around my waist, until she is virtually jumping up and down with excitement.
We're getting looks, but they're not dirty looks for a change. I'm still starting to feel uncomfortable, though and would really like to leave now. I look up and past Willow, trying to find the exit and am startled to see a girl in a full-length mirror not far from where I'm being decorated.
The image takes my breath away.
The burgundy and green works well with my dark hair and the clothes fit nicely, enhancing my figure, rather than hiding it. Even I can see that it looks really good and the smile I can see spreading on my face agrees with my opinion. I'm pleased when Willow hands me a soft, faded dark grey denim jacket to round off the outfit because I'm a little cold.
"How much is all of this?" I ask while Willow rolls up my sleeves a little bit. I didn't keep track of the prices and I really love this look. I might come and buy it in bits and pieces over a period of time.
Willow did keep track and she names the approximate accumulated price. It's a lot, but it is still within my reach, I just won't have a lot of my allowance left this month.
"Also, those tops, like the burgundy one you're wearing, are on a special where you get two for the price of one and the spaghetti tops are three for the price of one. They are rejects donated to us by a factory in Fall Brooke.
"They often send us clothes in bulk and you have to really look for the flaws that got them rejected, I seldom see those flaws. I always buy some if they're nice. The truly flawed ones are in the free section," the shop assistant who kept herself entertained, watching my fairy godmother at work informs us and I suddenly want to kiss her. I vaguely recognise her as a girl who graduated from Briar High last year.
"If you get the tops in colours that compliment each other and this skirt, you can mix and match and if you get another skirt, you can have quite a few outfits, if you pick the colours right," Willow explains.
"Let's do that," I agree, my excitement starting to match Willow's.
Stuff it!
I'm going to blow my entire allowance today and sponge off the guys for the rest of the month. I've done it before and they'll be pleased that this time I bought actual wearable pretty clothes and not just KPop memorabilia.
♪♫♪