Chapter 7
“So who do you think the cutest junior is?” Marrisa asked me, earning a shrug in response.
“There aren’t many cute juniors,” I wrinkled my nose. There are a few, but barely a handful, so it wouldn’t be fair to choose just one.
“What?! Yes there are! There’s Hayden and Lionel! Chris and Drew!” she began listing off boys that I didn’t know attended our school. Maybe I don't know all of the juniors...
I pursed my lips awkwardly and waited for her to finish. I recognized a few of them. “I just don’t find any of them cute.”
“What’s your type of guy?” she asked me. “I’ll play match maker and tell you which guy is perfect for you.”
I wrinkled my nose. “What’s the point of this?”
“So you can know who is a potential boyfriend, silly!” she grinned, smiling widely.
“Okay, so they may be perfect for me but what if I’m not perfect for them?” I asked and she shrugged.
“You will be, trust me," she smiled. “Now start describing.”
“He has to be smart; I can’t be with a stupid guy.” I shook my head at the thought.
“You just knocked down half of my list," she joked.
I rolled my eyes but continued. “He has to be funny or at least have some sense of humor.”
She nodded and stared determinedly into the air, at nothing in particular. “I don’t like loud, obnoxious guys who act differently when they’re around their friends.”
“He can’t be years older than me, or that much younger than me,” I told her. We were sitting on the floor of her bedroom, waiting for her mother to come home. “We should have at least a few things in common.”
“He has to have hobbies; he can’t just sit around all day and sleep,” I replied and she scoffed, as if having an inside joke with herself.
“I’ve found your perfect match," she told me, giggling to herself. I nodded, urging her to continue. This should be interesting. “He’s pretty tall and, I'm told pretty often, that he's cute. He has dark hair and light colored eyes. He’s pretty funny when he does talk, but he's shy. He’s really smart. He’s caring; if you get to know him. He loves ice cream and anything that has vanilla in it. He absolutely detests dancing, but that's okay, because you're not good at it anyway.”
I was nodding along, with narrowed eyes. If she says Noah, I'm going to hit her with a brick. “He sounds pretty good. So what’s his name?”
Suddenly, the door swung open and Noah popped his head in. “Your mother is here.”
My eyes scanned Noah’s features and I turned to glare at Marissa, who was letting out hoots of laughter. “What’s so funny?”
“S-she thinks you’re—.”
I quickly cut her off by jabbing her in the arm and she fell onto her bed in fits of laughter. “Nothing, we’ll be downstairs in a minute.”
He just closed the door while I stared at Marissa. “I hate you a lot.”
She grinned at me, letting her eyes skim over my face. “You like his personality, sort of; you like his face. Why won’t you admit it?”
“What is there to admit?” I snapped as we walked out of her bedroom and down the hallway. We decided not to put any makeup on me or else her mother might mistake me for a Barbie doll from the cheerleading squad. She told me the story of how her mother met Chloe. I don't want to have to go through what Chloe did.
“That you have a crush on him!” she told me. “Why else would you bother trying to communicate with the idiot?”
“I told you already,” I sighed loudly, stopping and turning to look at her. “And even if I did have a crush on him, which I don’t, it’s not like it could go anywhere- not that it would! He may not have a burning hatred for me anymore but he is nowhere near liking me as a girlfriend! And why does it seem like you’re always trying to set me up with your brother?”
She smirked as she blinked a few times. “I hope you know these walls are like paper.” She knocked on the wall and I felt my face blush as Noah groaned from down the hall.
“Shut up, will you? I’m trying to listen to music!” he replied loudly.
“This isn’t a karaoke studio! You’re a terrible singer!” Marissa replied and we both rushed down the stairs when we heard his rushed footsteps and the opening of his door.
“That excited to see me, Marissa?” a feminine, proper voice questioned from a few feet away. I looked up to see a lady in a light pink dress that looked glossier than the glass tables.
Marissa caught her breath while I struggled to catch mine. “Hey mom.”
I could see where Marissa gets her brown eyes from and most of her features. If this were me, I would be wrapping my arms around my mother now, hugging the life out of her, but Marissa stood a good distance away from her mother, wearing a small smile that seemed more polite than it did happy.
“Is this your friend?” she asked Marissa and her daughter nodded.
“Yes, this is Kennedy," she introduced me. Her mother’s nose wrinkled. “I call her Kenna.”
“Isn’t that a boy’s name?” she inquired and I nodded, shrugging. I didn’t bother repeating myself that it was unisex name, mainly because I doubt she’d care. “Why’d your mother name you that?”
“It was my father’s middle name,” I told her, standing up taller, proud to be named after my father. It’s an honor to be named after him.
She gave me an odd look before outstretching her hand. “I'm Mrs. Rivers, you can call me Ethel.”
I nodded, shaking her hand. “You can call me Kenna, if you’d like.”
She nodded. “That sounds much more feminine.”
Once we pulled away from the short handshake, she turned to Marissa. “Where is Noah?”
Marissa smiled. “He's decided not to eat with us.”
“Figures.” She raised and dropped her eyebrows before muttering to herself. “All that boy ever does is mope and groan, when what he needs to do is get a job and make something of himself.”
I gaped at her back as she walked towards the kitchen, unzipping her jacket and tossing it onto the back of the couch as she did so. Marissa jogged to grab it before hanging it up on the coat rack. “So mom, how long are you staying?”
“Why are you in such a rush to get me to go?” she asked, laughing loudly. Marissa grabbed my arm, shooting me an apologetic look. I still wasn’t over the fact that she openly belittled her husband’s son. “I just got here!”
“No, it’s not that, I just know that you leave often and I want to be prepared for when you do," she responded, forcing me into a seat. She opened the microwave and took out the large roast that she kept there for the past hour. Hopefully it's still warm from the oven..
“Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about!” Her mother clapped her hands as she sat down at the table, across from me. There were several seats at the table, eight in all. I’m guessing Noah sits away from everyone else when the whole family has dinner together, or maybe he sits next to Marissa. “I’m having a banquet next weekend and you’re coming!”
I was listening to their conversation when I heard my name. “Well, can Kenna come?”
“Sure, why not?” she shrugged.
“And Dana and Chloe?” Marissa asked, with a smile.
Her mother’s polite smile dropped from her face. “No, you know that I don’t like those girls. All they ever do is drink, which probably explains why they’re so stupid.”
Marissa sighed before shrugging, as if expecting that answer. Her mother turned her attention towards me while her daughter reached into the fridge to grab soda. “You’ll have to wear a dress.” I nodded. I can do that, for the sake of Marissa. Her other friends won’t be able to go. “And you’ll need a date.”
I snorted involuntarily, earning the attention of the two ladies in the room. “I doubt I’ll find a date in a week.” Or a year. I need at least a decades notice. That’ll give me time to up my charm.
“Neither will my stepson, and I need all of my immediate family there. How about you two go together? He obviously doesn’t mind you.” She, again, depreciated Noah by assuming he’s dateless.
I awkwardly bit my lip before slowly shaking my head. I don’t want to set Noah up for something like that. It’s obvious that the two don’t have a good relationship. He’s just starting to not hate me and I’d rather not backtrack. “No, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Sure it is! In fact, why don’t you go ask him?” she smiled. “I need to talk to my daughter for a moment, too.”
I stood up, the back of my knees pressing to the chair. At the moment, I didn’t care that she probably will complain about her daughter’s poor choice of friends. She, a lady I practically was a stranger to, was demanding that I ask her stepson to her gala. “Go on, don’t be shy.”
I slowly walked out of the kitchen, shooting Marissa pleading looks but she just held the glasses of soda in her hands innocently. She had no clue that her mother would do this. I made my way up the stairs, thinking of ways I could get out of this. I could get sick and go home. I can’t do that to Marissa. I walked to the end of the hallway, raising my fist and knocking on the door. Once, twice…I waited for him to open the door.
I knocked again. I heard a loud thud and a groan of pain; I heard shuffling on the other side of the door. It flew open and Noah stood there, his eyes half lidded and his shirt and sweatpants wrinkled. He was fixing his shirt and I’m assuming he was sleeping, shirtless most likely. I blushed at the thought. I blinked a few times as he stared down at me expectantly. One of his eyes was closed as he rubbed it. “What?”
“Did you fall off of the bed?” I asked him, curling my lips inward to hold back my laughter.
He blinked a few times. “I highly doubt you came all the way up here to ask me if I fell off of my bed. What do you want?”
I shifted on my feet, swallowing loudly. “Your step—Ethel is having a gala,” I cut myself off, knowing that he’d get angry and slam the door if I dared to say the word mother in a sentence.
“Yeah, she tends to do that. I never go, so I don’t understand what this has to do with me.” He replied hastily. Jeez, even half asleep he’s mean.
“You’re not making this any easier on me,” I muttered, rubbing the bridge of my nose. “Anyway, she needs to have all of her immediate family there, and in case you assume you’re not- you’re included in that sector.”
“Yeah, I figured," he muttered, his sleepy voice going away. “And where do you come into the picture?”
“She invited me to go,” I told him, nodding. “And I need a date.”
It clicked quicker than I thought it would and he furrowed his eyebrows at me. “Are you asking me to be your date?”
Before he could close the door, which he looked like he was about to do, I stopped him. “Wait! We don’t have to do anything remotely couple-y. We just have to color coordinate my dress and your tie. And we have to go into the gala together. We don’t even have to dance or sit together! It’s just so I can hang out with your sister!”
“I don’t know if you know what Ethel’s galas are like, and I’m assuming you don’t; the reason that you have to go with a date is because they have couple’s dance where you’re practically forced to dance with the person you came with. You also have to sit and eat with them for practically an hour,” he explained with a scowl on his face.
“You don’t have to talk to me or dance with me! I can go to the bathroom or something when the couples dance comes on. You can read, or something,” I told him. He narrowed his eyes at me and I quickly said offered the only thing I know he cares about. “Do it for Marissa. Her other friends can’t go!”
He sighed before pursing his lips. “You do realize we’d be the talk of the party, right?”
“What?” I asked him, furrowing my eyebrows.
He leaned against the doorframe, rubbing his temples. “Ethel’s stepson finally comes to her party, with a date, whose parent isn’t a doctor so they know absolutely nothing about you or your family.” I noted the singular use of the word parent. Does he know about my father? Obviously, idiot, he watched you pummel a guy for talking about him.
I bit my lip before shrugging. “I don’t care.” Some attention would be good, I guess, as long as I don’t embarrass myself.
“Are you sure?” Noah asked me and I nodded.
“Yeah,” I replied casually.
“Fine,” he muttered, going to close the door.
“Wait!” I exclaimed once again. “So it’s a yes?”
He shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”
I nodded and he went to close the door again. “Wait!”
“What?” he sighed exasperatedly.
“Thanks,” I told him.
“For what?” He replied tiredly.
“For the math formula and for agreeing to go to the gala with me,” I told him, offering him a smile.
He shrugged before going to close the door yet again. “Wait!”
“What? What else can you possibly have to say?” he hissed while I smirked.
“What’s your color?” I asked him. He gave me a confused look. “What color brings out your eyes?”
“What? I don’t know,” he muttered.
I scratched the back of my head before grinning. “Something dark.”
“Okay?” he murmured. “Is that all or are you going to scream ‘wait’ in my face again?”
I smiled. “That’s all.”
I watched as he closed the door before I practically skipped down the steps. When I arrived in the living room, I put on a calm look before entering the kitchen. I sat down and reached towards the roast, cutting a piece of it off and placing it onto the plate that was set out for me during my short absence. “Did he say yes?”
I looked up Marissa and held back a grin, for whatever reason. I actually got a date to a party. Even though he doesn’t like me as a person and I don’t like him as a boyfriend, it’s still exciting to know that someone is willing to embarrass themselves by being seen with me in public. And it's the fact that it's Ethel's party, and it's obvious that he dislikes her; he actually agreed to go to her party with me. “Yeah.”
“Really?” her mother asked, shock taking over her features. Marissa had a secretive smile on her face, as if she was hiding something. I’d have to figure out what it was later.
I nodded again, feeling a bit insulted. “I mean, why wouldn’t he?”
She shrugged. “He’s never gone to my galas before, he’s turned down a few of Marissa’s friends too, so I just assumed that he would say no," she confessed. “I have nothing against you; it’s just that I didn’t expect that of him.”
“Then why’d you tell me to ask him?” I questioned, trying to bite my tongue. I was catching an attitude.
She shrugged again, stuffing a small piece of the roast into her mouth. She took her time chewing before she replied. “I just thought that you had a small chance of him saying yes.”
I pursed my lips before stuffing a chunk of the potato salad that Marissa made into my mouth, struggling to keep my mouth shut, partially because the potatoes were like rubber but mostly because I was shocked with myself. What is wrong with me? The once quiet and reserved Kennedy is now being replaced by a stubborn, blunt, and rude girl. We continued eating, talking occasionally but it was silent for the most part.
When Ethel grabbed her briefcase from beside the door, I saw Marissa let out a sigh of relief. Her once perfect posture dropped to a slouch and she looked tired, even though it was a simple forty-five minute meal. “I’ll be off again; I’m staying at a hotel tonight. I have an early departure in the morning and I wouldn’t want to wake you. God knows you need the sleep, you’re already getting bags, dear.”
“Okay, mother," Marissa replied tiredly, rubbing her forehead.
Ethel sighed. “I only want what’s best for you. Friday evening, the maid will be coming so make sure that all my valuables are put away, lock them in my safe. Stay out of his way; I don’t need any more complaints being filed for you and Noah’s behavior.”
She talks so badly of Noah and I had the urge to defend him. She’s a mean stepmother from Cinderella but worse, because Noah doesn’t have a Fairy Godmother, as far as I know. “I’ll do that.”
“I get enough of those already,” she continued to blabber. “Get a dress, the both of you! Make sure Noah gets a matching tie!”
She leaned in and kissed her daughter's cheek before stuffing her arms through her coat sleeve. Lifting the briefcase off of the ground, she exited the house. My first thought was, why is she wearing a coat? My second thought was, thank goodness she's gone. Marissa dropped onto the couch with a groan and covered her face with her arms. We listened for Ethel's car as it drove down the street, growing silent quickly. “She’s horrible.”
“She wasn’t that bad,” I tried to console her, sitting down beside her. Even I feel as if there’s a weight lifted off of my shoulders. I no longer need to impress her by talking about my okay GPA and my grades, lying about the one C and the B-, and the clubs I have yet to join. I mean, my grades are usually A's by the end of the semesters, so it's only lying by omission.
Marissa opened her eyes and stared at me as if I had grown nine heads in the last five minutes. “Are you insane?”
“Is she gone?!” Noah’s shout from upstairs filled the room, echoing quietly.
“Yeah!” I called back, watching Marissa as she crawled into a ball on the couch, complaining that her mother is a spawn of the devil.
Noah walked down the stairs, his hair was everywhere but he didn’t seem to care. “You were sleeping?”
I turned to Marissa, my eyebrows furrowed. It was obvious that he was sleeping. Why did she look so surprised? “I got about twenty minutes in until she practically forced her way in.”
“I did not!” I retorted, crossing my arms as I sat on the couch.
Noah nodded as he entered the kitchen. “You practically begged me to go to the gala with you.”
My mouth fell open. “I did not! You had a chance to say no!”
“So I can say no now?” he half shouted from the kitchen.
“What? No! You already agreed,” I said in response, clutching a couch pillow to my chest.
Noah exited the kitchen with a plate in his hands, the remainder of the roast on his plate, along with the potato salad and the green beans. I stood up, preparing to leave. I can’t overstay my welcome, which I’m almost positive I’m doing. I began heading upstairs to go get my overnight bag. “Where are you going?”
I looked back at Marissa before motioning to the door. “Well, I’m going to go get my bag and then head out.”
Marissa stared at me. “What? You’re just going to leave me here, traumatized, with him?”
Noah frowned slightly. “Hey, I’m not that bad.”
Marissa ignored his rebuttal. “I thought we were going to go dress shopping!”
“I was under the impression that I was staying until today,” I told her, awkwardly.
“You can stay the night again if you want to,” Marissa replied in a singsong voice. Her chin was resting on her arms which her clasped on the back of the couch.
“Just ask her to move in, would you?” Noah muttered under his breath.
“Like I was saying before I was rudely cut off—,” Marissa began.
“What?! You weren’t even talking!” Noah retorted and Marissa reached out and punched him in the chest and he began coughing on his food. He has a strong chest. I found myself blushing again as he finally recovered from his coughing fit. “Are you trying to kill me?”
“Okay, back to what I was saying, you can stay the night again!” Marissa told me, smiling widely. She winked once she saw my blush.
“I don’t have another change of clothes to sleep in,” I told her. I spilled syrup on my other ones this morning when I ate my pancakes, and we didn't have time to throw them in the washer. At least I didn't spill any syrup on their expensive couch.
She grinned. “I have pajamas for you! Come on, I’ll get you a pair.”
She jumped off of the couch and ran towards me, hopping up the stairs. I noticed Noah grab the remote and change the channel, flicking it to the History channel. “Nerd.”
“What was that?” Noah turned to look at me, a piece of the roast hanging out of his mouth. I shook my head, biting my tongue once again.
“Nothing,” I replied before hopping up the steps, following Marissa into her room.
I nearly gasped when she held out a pair of shorts and a tank top. “I’m not wearing that.” She shuffled through her drawers again, coming up with a pair of shorts and yet another tank top. I shook my head again. Maybe I'd wear it if she didn't have a brother, but she does, and it'd be awkward.
“Well these are the only pajamas I have that would fit you. You’re gifted with a chest while I’m stuck with this wall; none of my other shirts will fit you," she told me, holding them out. “Take them or sleep in jeans.”
I patted my jeans. “I prefer these.”
She groaned. “I’ll see if my mom has something, come on.” The idea of sleeping in her mother’s clothes made me feel awkward but I wasn’t going to file yet another complaint.
Motioning for me to follow her, she led me to her parent’s bedroom. She opened the closet and I saw a bunch of pantsuits and professional dresses, along with some of her father’s suits. She closed the closet and began opening drawers, shrieking once she reached the third one. I peeked over her shoulder and noticed a large amount of dark colored lace and I only figured it could be her mother’s underwear drawer.
She slammed the drawer shut before running out of the room, muttering obscenities. “That was so disgusting," she shuddered involuntarily once I stepped out of her parent’s room, closing the door behind me.
I smirked. “Maybe she’ll pass them onto you when you get a little older,” I mused and she began shrieking at the top of her lungs, pressing her fingers to her ears childishly in an attempt to tune me out. I grabbed her hands and pulled them from her ears. “Okay, calm down, I’m done.”
We walked downstairs empty-handed. I was still in my dark jeans, which would not be comfortable to sleep in, but I’ll get used to it. “Hey, Noah?”
“What?” he replied, stretched out on the couch.
“Do you have any clothes for Kenna to wear to sleep?” My eyes nearly popped out of my head at Marissa’s question. “She has nothing else to wear.” I'll take my dirty pajamas right now. I'll wait the two hours of the wash and dry cycle; I'll sleep later.
Noah groaned as he sat up. “First, I’m forced to go to a party with her, now I have to lend her some of my clothes. Great.”
I was surprised that he agreed. He must be in a good mood today. A few moments later, he walked down the stairs, shoving a handful of clothes at me before jumping back onto the couch, extending his legs and turning so that he was on his side, facing the television.
I walked up the stairs towards the bathroom, stepping into the bright room. I placed the clothes down onto the sink’s counter, stripping of my clothes and changing into Noah’s provided clothes. Slipping his shirt over my undershirt, I accidentally breathed in the scent. Is this what it’s like hugging him? He smells really good. I wrapped my arms around the shirt, inhaling a few times. I watched my face turn pink in the mirror. I, Kennedy West, am officially a creep.
Glancing at myself in the mirror, clothed in a pair of Noah’s stretchy sweatpants and a large grey t-shirt, I nodded before walking towards the room I’m staying in. I tossed my used clothes beside my overnight bag before walking downstairs. “Wow…those clothes are huge.”
She was right, but I’d rather wear clothes that are two sizes too big than two sizes too small. “It was either this or your baby clothes.”
I walked over towards the couch and plopped down beside her. We didn’t have much room because Noah’s six foot body was lying on the couch, eyes glued to the television. He took them off of the television for a moment before glancing at me. Obviously, I wasn’t worth the attention because he turned his gaze right back towards the television. “My clothes are perfectly fine," Marissa retorted.
“For a stripper,” Noah muttered quietly, earning a laugh from me and a pillow to the face by Marissa. I wonder what he would do if I were to hit him in the face with a pillow. I quickly dismissed the idea, knowing that I’ve already spent all my violent minutes for this month.
I tuned back into the conversation to see Marissa’s face red and her eyes were narrowed while Noah just calmly stared at the television, replying casually as if they weren’t in a heated argument. “At least I don’t watch the history channel!”
“At least my clothes fit me," he replied, propping his feet onto each other as he stared at the ceiling, a commercial breaking his concentration.
“At least I don’t read for fun!” Marissa snapped.
“Hey!” I exclaimed, turning my attention to her. “Reading is fun!”
She gave me a sheepish look before she let out a laugh. “Sorry, I forgot I had two nerds in the room.”
I punched her shoulder, laughing loudly. “I am not a nerd.”
“Are you insinuating that I am?” Noah asked, propping his head up and glancing at me.
I shrugged. “Maybe.”
Marissa groaned. “You guys are disgusting.”
I turned my attention to her. “What?”
“You’re flirting right in front of me," she scowled before winking at me. I narrowed my eyes at her.
“Watch out, she might beat you up like she did to Ronnie,” Noah stated.
I groaned into a pillow. So he definitely saw it, there isn’t a chance that he overheard what happened. He witnessed it. He probably heard what Ronnie said, too. “You never explained what happened.”
I sighed. “Nothing happened; he got me angry, I blacked out and went after him.”
“She tackled the guy like a football player,” Noah analogized.
I glared at him. “No I didn’t, I just…jumped at him.” I fixed his false comparison.
“Like a tree frog,” Noah corrected.
Marissa laughed. “For some reason, I can’t imagine you fighting.”
I snorted. “Good, you don’t want to.”
“She was even swinging on people trying to help her.”
“Were you now?” Marissa asked, turning to look at me.
“Hey, who’s telling this story?” I snapped at Noah. He shrugged, turning back to the program about the Vietnam war.
“So what did he say to get you angry?” she asked.
“Something about my dad,” I muttered quietly, wringing my hands together.
She nodded before smiling at me and turning to look at the television. “Hey Noah?”
“What can you possibly want?” he groaned, heaving a sigh before turning to look at his sister.
“Can you please change the channel?”
<<>><<>>
“Let’s go!” Marissa cheered loudly from the front door. Noah hopped over the couch’s arm, standing up straight. I stared at his back as he walked, watching his muscles move whenever the loose shirt pressed against his skin. I looked away once Marissa caught me staring at him. When Noah exited the house, she looked at me. “Let’s keep our hands and our eyes to ourselves, yeah?”
“What are you trying to say?” I asked her, giving her an annoyed look.
“Don’t swing on anyone and try not to drool over my brother, or at least while I’m around, okay?” she asked me, smirking as she locked the door.
“He’s not even that cute,” I muttered as I followed behind her.
She laughed before rolling her eyes. “You admitted to thinking that he was cute, Kennedy.”
We walked over toward the car, the car being Noah’s. “I thought you didn’t want it in your car,” Marissa had to note.
I glared at her while Noah shrugged. “I put plastic down on the seats.”
Opening the back passenger’s side door, I gasped when I noticed that it was true. There were plastic seat covers and Marissa laughed loudly, pointing at the seats. “Why is that there?”
“For it," he nodded his head in my general direction before climbing into the driver’s seat. “Get in.”
Marissa and I got into the car; every single move I made was emphasized by the loud seat covers. I tried to sit still but it was hard when Noah would speed down streets, stopping abruptly, nearly slamming my face into the back of Marissa’s seat. We slowed to a stop outside of a small dress boutique a few miles out of town. Marissa rushed out of the car while my actions were stalled as a loud rip reverberated throughout the car. My eyes widened as I slowly got out of the car. I turned and saw a large slash in the plastic.
“Is your bottom made out of knives or something?” Noah hissed as he walked over towards my side of the car.
“No! Maybe you shouldn’t put plastic on seats when people have buttons on the back of their pants!” I snapped in response.
He shot me a glare before he ripped the plastic from the seat, revealing a black leather material that coated the car’s seat. Marissa tugged me into the boutique, muttering about how we argue more than they do. I brushed it off and watched as she thumbed through the dresses. “Why is he even here?”
“He has to get a matching tie, right?” she asked.
I shrugged. “Then where’s your date? He has to get a matching tie, too.”
She smirked. “I’m going to buy his tie.”
I stared at her. “And I couldn’t do that for Noah?”
She shrugged. “He gives honest opinions about dresses.”
“Do we need them?” I snapped.
She smiled. “You guys will be dancing together, might as well see if he likes the dress or not.”
“We made an agreement; we won’t be dancing together or talking,” I told her, thumbing through a rack of dresses myself.
“What? That’s no fun!” she exclaimed.
I shrugged. “I don’t really have a choice. Your brother won’t have it any other way. Besides, it’s a win-win situation. Your brother gets to go and I get to go. Your mother would be happy and hopefully, it’d help their relationship a bit.”
“I doubt that. Their bad relationship traces back a lot farther than some teenage disobedience.” As much as I wanted to ask what she meant, I held my tongue and continued looking for a dress.
<<>><<>>
“This is so boring," Noah muttered as he sat at the opposite end of the couch. We were seated outside of the changing room and Marissa was trying on her eighth dress, all different shades of orange. They were party dresses, not gowns, but dresses, most of which could be used for a fancier school dance.
“What about this one?” she questioned curiously, twirling and spinning girlishly, showing off the dark orange dress.
I nodded. “It’s cute, but I don’t like the top.”
“Ugly," Noah shrugged carelessly. His comments were all similar to this one; ugly, stupid and ugly, why would you even pick that?
She groaned. “I have two dresses left, so start making up your minds.”
She disappeared into the changing rooms one last time and I felt my stomach clench. I was going next, and with the cruel comments Noah dishes out, I might not be able to make it past the second dress without collapsing from embarrassment. Once she exited the cubical, I immediately smiled. “I like it.”
She nodded, looking at Noah who shrugged. “It’s the best one yet.”
“Great, I’m buying it!” she squealed in excitement before she entered the small stall. After she changed back into her regular outfit and grabbed her dresses, she shoved me into the stall.
I had eight dresses, two of which were chosen by Marissa. I didn't even like the other six, but everytime I said something was cute, she would pull it from the rack, making sure it was my size. I grabbed the one at the top of the pile. It was red and went up to my mid-thigh. I wiggled out of my jeans, falling to the side and smacking my face on the wall. “Ouch.”
“Are you okay?” Marissa asked loudly.
“Yeah…I just hit my face," I replied as I tossed my jeans onto the small bench in the corner. I did the same to my shirt before stepping into the dress. It tied around my neck and I managed to tie it so it wasn’t lumpy. I fixed it so that it flowed freely, rather than being tucked into my underwear.
I awkwardly unlocked the stall door, stepping out. “So?”
“I like it. You won’t be able to wear a bra with it, though," she told me and I gasped.
“Next!” I practically shrieked as I walked towards the stall.
“Wait, you didn’t get Noah’s comment!” she exclaimed and I shrugged.
“It doesn’t matter; I’m not getting this one either way!” I replied, quickly locking the stall and stripping of the dress. I put it back on the hanger before trying on the next one. It was black and a high-low or so Marissa called it when she saw that it had caught my eye. But rather than tying around the neck, it had straps. It wasn’t a low drop, either, so that made me a bit more comfortable. It just revealed my collarbones, which aren’t defined at all.
Once I squeezed into the plain dress, I adjusted it, making sure the elastic waist was in the right place. I opened up the door and walked out, watching as the black swayed from side to side. “Let’s let Noah go first, seeing as you cut him off last time.”
I glared at Marissa while Noah shrugged. “It’s a depressing color.”
“Why I can’t agree more, Noah,” Marissa smiled before shooing me into the dressing room.
The next dress was simpler, yet pretty. It was midnight blue, which made my skin look extremely pale. I wrinkled my nose as I pulled the dress on, zipping up the back and switching it around so that it was on correctly. It was strapless and had a layer of lace over the dress, which was a bit longer than the dress itself. “I look like a piece of paper with blue ink on it.”
“I doubt it, come on out,” Marissa encouraged and I groaned before slipping out of the cubicle. She stifled a laugh while Noah didn’t. He snorted audibly and looked away, hiding his dimples beneath his hand.
I groaned once again, entering the cubicle and putting the dress back on its hanger. The next dress was mint and had a gold belt that was undone. It had one shoulder, something that I didn’t like very much. At least I wouldn’t look like a sheet of paper in it, though. Once I finished putting it on, I exited the cubicle and Marissa squealed, mentioning the fact that she was the one who pried it from the dress rack. “I chose that one!”
I nodded. “I know; it’s extremely girly.”
“I like it! What do you think, Noah?” Marissa asked, turning to her brother who shrugged.
“It’s okay," he replied, staring at the side of the dress where it was lengthier than the other. I personally didn’t like that. “But that part is ugly.”
I nodded before entering the stall. Four no’s as far as I know. Switching into the other dress, which was black with sparkles completely covering the top half, I winced as I stared in the mirror. It was blinding. I exited the stall with my nose wrinkled and Noah covered his eyes. The way the light hit the dress caused Marissa to cringe back. “Unfortunately, I chose that one too.”
I nodded. “I’m going to go change.”
“Please do,” Noah remarked, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. "I'm blinded."
"As if you aren't already," Marissa snorted.
I slipped into the stall and stared at the purple dress in front of me, wrinkling my nose again. It had sparkles, too, but they weren’t as noticeable- or blinding. I put the strapless dress on and smiled as it, like most of the others, reached mid-thigh. Not too long and not too short, just the way I like it.
I exited the stall and Marissa shook her head. “No, oh God no.”
“Yeah, what she said,” Noah replied and I walked back into the stall, locking it and taking off the stupid dress. I grabbed the next dress, a pretty pastel, tie-dye color that I picked out of pure curiosity. Once I wiggled into the dress, I looked into the mirror and sighed. I really don’t like dresses. I exited the stall and Marissa squealed rather girlishly.
“I love it!” Marissa exclaimed while Noah shrugged.
“I don’t like it; you look paler than usual," Noah remarked.
Marissa groaned. “Of course you don’t, you never like anything!”
I walked back towards the changing stall while the two half-siblings argued. I grabbed the last dress, my personal favorite. It was a mixture of the three colors gray, white, and gold. It was also one strapped, which I wasn’t very fond of but this dress made it work. But can I make it work? Probably not. I put the dress on and admired myself in the mirror.
Hm, not bad. Now what do they think? I left the stall, grateful that this unnecessary ordeal was over. Marissa glanced at me first, ignoring Noah’s last remark. She grinned widely. “I love it! That’s the best one! You have to get it! You just have to!”
“Yeah,” Noah nodded, his eyes scanning the dress, earning a blush out of me. I avoided his gaze with the last few dresses but I actually like this dress, so whether or not it looks good on me matters. “It’s…nice.”
I nodded, holding back a grin as I walked into the changing room. I fist pumped once I closed the door. I put the dress aside and changed into my normal outfit, grabbing the seven dresses and putting them on one arm while putting the winner on my other. I exited the stall and Marissa quickly scooped up my dresses while telling me to go look for a tie for Noah. I hung my dress on the carriage’s small hanger.
I shot her a glare before following Noah towards a wall covered in ties. I guess this is a hotspot for prom couples. Or in our case, two people forced to attend a gala so we decided that we might as well go together in order to get in. “Get a gold tie.”
“What? Why?” Noah asked as his fingers traced a golden tie.
I held up the dress. “Would you rather get a gray tie to go with a gray tuxedo or a white tie to go with a gray tuxedo? Or a golden tie?”
He gave me a flat look. “I’m not stupid.”
“I never said you were,” I replied as he snatched a gold tie off of the shelf and tossed it into the small carriage, equipped with two hangers- both of which were occupied.
“Yeah, well, your tone insinuated it," he retorted and I stayed quiet, watching as he approached an uneven step. Suddenly, his body went hurling forward and he clutched out to grab onto something but there was nothing around us but air.
I let out a strangled laugh, struggling to hold it back. He was lying on the floor, his arms spread out and his feet tangled while the rest of his body was pressing against the floor. He groaned as he turned over and sat on his bottom, his knees bent and his arms stretched out behind him. His face was red from either embarrassment or anger, either way, his cheeks were tinged the color of a tomato and his eyebrows were pulled together. His lips were pursed and he looked adorable, like a little kid who was confused about their homework.
The laugh that I tried to stifle slipped out and more laughs followed. My stomach started to hurt so I kneeled over, eventually falling to my knees as I laughed loudly, glancing at him every few seconds. At first, he had a flat look on his face before his dimples started to show and a smile upturned his lips. He now had his head buried in his hands as his shoulders shook with laughter. I was leaning against the carriage where my dress, along with Marissa’s, was.
“Did I miss something?” Marissa asked once she reached us. I was now breathing heavily, letting out the occasional chuckle as I glanced at Noah who slowly stood up, wiping himself off.
I shook my head, knowing that he wouldn’t be very happy if I explained to his sister how he lost the battle against gravity. “No, I just…fell.”
She nodded, giving us suspicious looks as we reached the counter. I took out my credit card and paid for my dress while Marissa paid for hers. Noah paid for the tie before we all walked towards the car. I chuckled at the memory of Noah sprawled out on the floor. I glanced at him and he shook his head at me, a small smile appearing on his face. Once he realized what he was doing, he shook the smile away and turned back towards the car. He didn’t look at me again that whole day.