Living With The Bad Boy

48) Make Out With Him On My Bed

"Ow," Marcie hissed as Nena did something with her hair. "Nena, why can't I just leave my hair in a ponytail? It's not even prom!"

"Because it's our last homecoming dance," Nena explained. I sat there on my bed, watching the both of them amusedly. Luckily, I won in a game of rock paper scissors and didn't have to burn my hair first.

"So what?" she groaned, looking at her straight blonde hair through the mirror. Without the slight waves, it was right below her shoulders, perfectly framing her sharp features. "What's so bad about wearing jeans to homecoming?"

"Because that's a big no," Nena simply shrugged. She finished with her hair and smiled at its perfection. "You look gorgeous. Now you just need eyeliner, mascara, and eyeshadow."

"I already agreed to wearing this dress, there's no way that I'm wearing makeup," she let her know, stubbornly covering her face.

"Marcie, be glad that I'm making you put on more makeup like I'm going to make Lauren have," Nena tried to convince. What?

"I didn't agree to that," I piped in. Sure, I had bags under my eyes and cheeks that were a little too red, but who was going to look at me anyway?

"Well too bad," Nena retorted. "There, all finished." I sat up straight to look at Marcie. Her off the shoulder lace red dress hugged her waist perfectly and her eye makeup made her eyes pop out and look shinier. She looked amazing. "Here's your heels."

"I'm going to fall," Marcie snorted, wearing the black heels that had a thin strap around her ankle.

"That's why you're going with Liam," Nena grinned. "Your turn Lauren."

"I have a broken leg, be nice to me," I groaned.

"No can do," Bethany said, coming in with a two-piece homecoming dress. The top piece was white, long sleeved, and high necked, ending right below my waist. The second piece was a lacey green skirt which was the same color as my cast and ended mid thigh.

"Do I really have to?" I groaned. Sure, the dress was pretty and all but right now, I'd rather sleep.

"Of course," Marcie piped in. "If I go through the torture, you go through the torture. It's fair, isn't?"

I grunted and shooed them out of the room so that I could change. Bethany stayed right put. "You can't do that without my help," she shrugged. I grunted again and pulled my shirt off, revealing a black sports bra.

"That's not happening," she immediately said. Quickly, she went inside my closet and took out a white lace bra that I didn't know existed.

"No," I firmly said. "Do you not know how uncomfortable that is?"

"But Sam asked you out and you need to make an effort," she whined, shoving the Victoria's Secret deadly creation in my hands.

"As friends," I reminded her, changing as she turned around. I also shoved on the top and couldn't reach the zipper.

"That's what they all say," she giggled, turning around to help me zip up. I carefully shrugged off my shorts to slip on the skirt.

"This is way too short," I whined, pointing at all the mid thigh skin that was showing. I had to pull it up high to conceal most of my waist and it showed my mid thigh. That was probably supposed to be normal but the wind could shrug it up. "Can you get me a pair of shorts?"

"Absolutely not," she said in a clipped tone. "None of them match with your dress."

"It's just to wear under," I said. "Please, please, please, please, please, pl-"

"Fine!" she yelled, stomping back in to find loose white shorts that ended three inches past my butt. That's as far as she'll get, I just know that.

"Thank you," I grinned, carefully slipping them on. The damn leg hurts every time I move it.