Love Thy Neighbour *editing*

"So you're the wee get that got my daughter pregnant?"

Auntie Francis stared at me expectantly, her eyes wide. What the hell was I supposed to say? That I liked the monstrosity that she had picked for me? That I wanted to wear this hideous excuse for clothing? I thought that lying was frowned upon! Apparently not when it came to your slightly neurotic auntie and her flamboyant wedding.

“It’s…okay?” I tried lamely, trying to find a flattering angle to look at myself in the mirror. No, there was no point whatsoever; I looked horrendous.

“Okay?” she squeaked, grabbing the skirt of the dress and pulling it out. “It’s perfect!” I groaned. There was no way I could walk up an aisle in front of about four dozen people wearing that.

Sighing, I went back into the changing room to get out of the itchy, frumpy dress. I was sure that this was just another one of her spiteful plans to make me look worse than her. I mean, I was going to look bad in the photos anyway; right now I looked as though I had a rather large pillow shoved up my front.

Just as I had finished getting back into my clothes, my phone began to buzz in my pocket. I pulled it out, idly pressing the call button.

“Yes?” I yawned, putting a hand to my mouth.

“I was just phoning to see how you’re getting on,” Niall replied, sounding slightly out of breath. I sat down on the small ledge in the changing room, rubbing at my eyes sleepily.

“I’m fine,” I replied, stroking my stomach. “Just trying to convince her that custard yellow isn’t the most flattering colour.” Niall snorted on the other end of the line.

“Custard yellow?” he repeated in disbelief. I nodded before realising that we were speaking on the phone, ergo he couldn’t see me.

“Yes, Niall; custard yellow. I looked like a giant rubber duck!” I hissed, trying not to make my voice go too loud.

“A rubber duck, eh?” he teased. “Well, we all know what I think about rubber ducks, Evie…”

“Wheesht!” I groaned, shaking my head and trying not to laugh. “What’re you doing?”

“Um, just…stuff,” he said vaguely. Stuff? Why didn’t I like the sound of that? But the line began to crackle and Niall was suddenly mysteriously cut off. Well, that was polite. I stowed the phone back in my jeans pocket and pulled back the curtain of the changing room, the dress flung carelessly over my arm. There was no way I was wearing this to the wedding. I didn’t care if it was “in fashion”. It wasn’t going to happen.

“Well?” Auntie Francis said, her arms folded tightly across her chest. I hung the dress up on the rack, shaking my head. She groaned exasperatedly.

“Evie, would you stop being so bloody choosy and just be grateful I’m letting you be the bridesmaid!”

I was meant to be grateful that she was putting me through this? Right now, I could think of nothing worse than being her bloody bridesmaid. Well, actually there were a few but this came pretty close to the top…ten.

“Can’t you just choose a normal colour?” I sighed, running my fingers thoughtlessly over the fabrics of numerous dresses. “Something that isn’t pink, or yellow, or…,” I wrinkled my nose, “tangerine.”

Auntie Francis sighed and pulled out yet another dress. This one was purple, a deep shade of violet. She held it up in front of me, a condescending look on her face. I took it from her hands and headed back into the bloody changing room, shaking my head. I knew that we weren’t going to leave until I had found a dress that met her standards. I was hoping it would be soon; I really needed to pee.