Saving Her [n.h]

four | birthday

Chapter Four

Birthday

"The party starts at six, but Niall wants us to get there for four so we can help him set up. And I know you said you didn't really want to dress up, but Niall wants everyone to wear something nice, so you can wear something of mine - I'm pretty sure we're the same size - and I'll do your makeup for you if you want me to -"

"Whoa, slow down," I say, holding my hands up. "I'm not wearing a dress or six inch heels, if that's what you're thinking of putting me in."

"Well, believe it or not, I don't actually own a pair of six inch heels." Laurie sighs wistfully and gazes towards her wardrobe, which is already stuffed to bursting point. "But don't worry, I won't put you in anything you don't want to wear."

She turned up at my house at ten this morning and demanded I go with her, to which my dad didn't argue and neither did I. Since then, we've been sitting in her bedroom, avoiding her mother's boyfriend and discussing the party. Her dog, a tiny brown Dachshund called Timmy, is lying with his head on my lap, slowly falling asleep as I stroke him.

"What are you wearing?" I ask her.

Laurie gets up from her bed and moves towards her wardrobe, carefully opening it and pulling out an outfit on a wire hanger. "This." She shows it to me; a short tartan skater skirt, a black bralet, a thin, almost sheer black kimono-type cover up and a dark red shoulder bag.

"That's nice." I notice the heeled black ankle boots she picks up, wondering how in the world she could wear them. They may not be six inches, but they look like they could puncture a lung well enough.

"Anyway, let's find something for you to wear." She puts the outfit on her bed and kneels in front of her wardrobe, digging through the clothes.

"I still don't see why I can't just go in this." Laurie turns around to look at me, pursing her lips as she scrutinises my worn hoodie that used to have a band logo on it and my paint-splattered jeans.

"Tasia, it's Niall's eighteenth. I'm sure he'll be thrilled that you showed up, but if you're going to, you have to dress up nice for h -" She pauses, smiles awkwardly and then goes back to her wardrobe.

"For what?"

"For the party."

"Oh, no. I don't do shorts." I shake my head, thinking about the scars on my thighs. It frustrates me that however much I want to get on with my life, they're always going to be there and ruin it.

"Why not? You have amazing legs." She tilts her head and pouts. "Pleeeeease?"

"No way."

"Alright, alright. No shorts." Laurie puts them back and grabs a pair of ripped black jeans. "What about these?"

"Yeah, they're nice." She throws them onto the bed, along with the flannel and the tank. "I can just wear these, right?" I point to my Converse.

Laurie nods, getting up from the floor and picking up Timmy, who wakes up suddenly. "Get out of here, you asshole. It's not appropriate to watch teenage girls get dressed." Timmy tries to lick her face, but Laurie holds him away from her. "No treats for you today, Timothy." She takes him to the door and opens it. "I'm just kidding. I love you, bud." She kisses the top of his head and puts him down in the hallway outside her room, quickly shutting the door so he doesn't sneak back in.

"Okay, take your hoodie off so we can see if this flannel fits you." Laurie picks it up and turns around to me. Without thinking, I take it off, which exposes my bare arms and the number of scars marring them are clearly visible.