The It Girl [COMPLETED]

Chapter 15 - "Can I ask you something?"

Micah drove Courtney home, the trip passing in silence mixed with 7 Ships playing. Both comforting but in opposite ways: one new and one old.

When they arrived at Courtney's house, Micah gathered up the fabric while Courtney managed to hold the bag of shirts and maneuver at the same time. It wasn't graceful but it meant one less trip to the car which was the peak goal of anyone who has ever shopped.

The doors to her parents' office lay open and she spotted them consulting five wall screens, all displaying something different. Courtney secretly felt like they looked like Iron Man in his workshop, only less become-a-superhero and more remake-a-company's-image type thing.

Micah let out a whistle as they entered Courtney's sewing room.

"This is nice," he said.

"It used to be a collected workspace for my sister, brother, and me. But they eventually moved their work into their rooms and so I took over. Set the fabric on that table."

Courtney set the shopping bag on her worktable and sank into her chair. Micah wandered around the room, inspecting everything. When he came to the two mannequins with the beginning of dresses, he looked at Courtney.

"Homecoming dresses," she said. "One for Lynn and one for me."

"You're seriously making your own dresses."

She shrugged. "Why not?"

He smiled and made another lap of the room. Not sure what a second round will reveal what the first didn't but hey, this is the most anyone's paid attention to her room in a while.

"Can I ask you something?" Micah said.

"Sure."

"Where did your love of clothes come from?"

"What, you mean you don't believe it came attached to me when I was born blonde and blue-eyed?"

"No."

Funny, that's what Max would think, along with others.

"Do you want the long story or an abbreviated story that doesn't make sense?"

In answer, Micah found one of the rolling stools and sat down. Only once he did, he swiveled back and forth, then in a quick circle then pushed off, sending himself across the room. At the opposite end, he turned and pushed again. He hit one of the mannequins and they both crashed to the floor. Smooth.

"Sorry," Micah said, righting the mannequin and settling on the stool again. His hair stuck out more and his cheeks burned.

"Why does every guy who sits on a stool do that?"

Micah shrugged. "So...you were going to tell me that story?"

Courtney took out one of the shirts from the bag, grabbed her seam ripper, and leaned back in her chair. Might as well work while talking.

"I met Lynn in a summer camp before freshman year," she started, swiftly detaching one sleeve of the shirt from the base. "We became friends. I was awkward at fourteen, I could dance but I still didn't feel graceful.

"Then I was best friends with Lynn going into freshman year. You've seen her, she's gorgeous. I'm still not convinced she isn't some Hawaiian Princess. Next to her and her poise and cool confidence...I felt like an ugly duckling. She stood out and I..."

"But you're pretty," Micah blurted out.

"Yeah, but we live in Southern California. You throw a rock out any window and you'd hit fifty pretty blonde girls. I'm basic. Lynn is striking."