Neighbours

15: Tan Tights

Mother curled my hair and agreed to wait outside after telling me we'd be going out for brunch.

A few knocks came at the door.

"Come in!" I called through the flat as I began cleaning up.

"Hey Bridge- woah." Tom stopped in his tracks when he saw me.

I picked up a pile of clothes from the floor and turned around to look at him.

"Is that a good 'woah' or a bad 'woah'?" I asked, clicking over to the washing machine and bundling the clothes in.

"It's a 'I've-never-seen-you-like-this-it's-rather-odd' woah." He said with a nervous chuckle.

I sighed and looked into the mirror, "Well...get used to it."

"Hey-" Tom caught my hand as I turned away.

"What?" I asked.

"Is your mum making you like this?"

"She's not making me like anything."

"You're different."

"How? It's only been 20 minutes." I scoffed.

"That's why I'm concerned."

I ripped my hand away from him and continued cleaning up, "Concerned?"

"Yes. You never usually dress like this and why are you being so cold towards me?"

"I can dress however I want to and I'm not being cold towards you."

"Yes you are."

"I'm not. Can we just drop this?" I asked, looking at him from across the room.

He looked genuinely worried, a wrinkle forming between his eyebrows and his pupils small.

"Fine." He shrugged.

"What are we doing then?" He asked.

"We're going to brunch with her."

"Fuck." He groaned, his head falling onto his shoulders.

"You'll also need to change." I sighed, grabbing a red lipstick and applying it.

"Why? This is what I usually wear." He said, looking down at his jeans and white t-shirt.

"Exactly. Do you have smart suit trousers and a nice shirt?" I asked.

He stuttered, "I mean yeah but-"

"Great. Put that on." I stated, shoving the lipstick in my fanciest handbag.

He paused and opened his mouth a few times to say something before just sighing and leaving.

I took a deep breath and looked into the mirror.