Becoming Kennedy

4- 1 Oak

"I thought you guys weren't coming until seven o'clock?"  Abigail looks at me as if I'm stupid, "You have to get ready, Colorado.  Things like this need prep time!"  I want to scream.  Things like what?!

The four girls quickly file into my messy house, and I can almost feel them judging me.  "It's...quaint..."  Becky eyes the bare walls, and minimal furniture, "But nice."  I resist the urge to roll my eyes.  I just moved in, what are they expecting?

"Show me to your room."  I push past the girls, and head upstairs towards my bedroom.  When I open the door, Parsley...I mean...Presley, gasps as if she's in a horror film.  "It's so small."  This time, I do roll my eyes.  "I'm sorry it's not to your liking."  I glare at her, "But it is my room, not yours."

Presley shrugs it off, and sits down on my bed, "Let's hurry up, we don't have a lot of time, and she needs a lot of work."  I think I'm offended.

Abigail looks at the bags from our earlier shopping spree, and frowns, "You didn't put these away?"  I shrug, "I was busy unpacking all of my regular stuff."  Abigail scoffs, and rummages through them, obviously searching for something.

Once she finds what she's looking for, she pulls it out with an 'aha!'.

I look at the piece of fabric she's holding, and realize it's the tight black dress I wasn't very fond of.  "I'm supposed to wear that?  I'll look so..."  I try to refrain using the word 'slutty' around these girls, because I get the vibe they're not saints.  "I don't know.  I just feel like I'll stand out too much in that dress."

Becky laughs, "Look at what we're wearing!  You'll look just like us, calm your tits."  I was suddenly aware that I hadn't even looked at what the other girls were wearing.  I don't really know how I could've missed it though...they all look like they're about to go clubbing.

Shit.

"Are we going clubbing?"  Abigail laughs at my question, "Well duh?  I thought you would've picked up on that by now!"  She shoves the dress into my arms, and points to the bathroom, "Go change so we can fix your hair and makeup.  The clock is ticking, Colorado."

I hesitantly stumble into the bathroom, and pull on the dress.  It clings to my body, and comes a bit shorter than I normally like, but I have to admit.  I look pretty damn good.

When I exit the bathroom, I have three pairs of eyes analyzing me.

"She doesn't look bad..."

"Yeah, but does she look good enough?"

"Everyone's going to be drinking.  They won't be looking at her too closely..."

I shake my head, sarcasm clear in my voice, "I'm standing right here, guys it's not like you have to whisper or anything."

None of them look apologetic.

Abigail grabs my arm, and pulls me into the bathroom, "Give me your makeup bag."  She points to Presley, "You.  Do her hair."  Just the thought of Presley with a hot iron anywhere near my head is enough for me to fear for my life.

Luckily, she seems like she's in a rush to get out of here, so she quickly puts a few curls in my hair before looking to Abigail for approval.

Abigail, working hastily on my face, nods and dusts a bit of blush on my cheeks.  She moves aside, and I see my reflection in the mirror, "Oh."  Abigail smiles, "I know.  You look fucking hot."

I could swear I heard Becky mumble, 'she'd better be'.  But when I glanced at her, she showed no sign of saying anything.  I must've imagined it.