Back in the Saddle

Why is Choosing an Outfit So Difficult?

Karl's POV:

"Karl, you gotta get up, bud."

I don't respond, I just roll over in my sleep, nearly falling off the couch in the process. I feel as he grabs my arms and tries to pull me up, but I go limp and just sink back into the cushions. He groans, poking me in the side in an attempt to get me up. When I still don't even open my eyes, he nearly stabs me, which makes me shoot up.

"Dude, that hurt," I grumble, rubbing my side.

"Well it worked, did it not?" Schlatt laughs.

I roll my eyes and lay back down, staring at the ceiling. "Why'd you wake me up?"

"This is the fourth time you've slept on the couch this week. I wouldn't be a very good roommate or friend if I let you stay here again. Now come on, let's get you into your own bed."

I stare at him blankly but allow him to grab my arm and haul me back into my room. He practically drops me onto the bed, leaving me to crawl under the covers on my own. I am just about to fall asleep again when I realize he's still standing at the foot of the bed, watching me. Well, he's not really looking at me, he's almost looking through me and he has a questioning look in his eyes, like he's having a debate with himself.

He finally seems to make his decision, because he says "You're coming to a party with me tomorrow." I'm about to protest when he silences me with a finger. "No buts, it's happening. It starts at nine, so we'll be there at ten. Be ready."

With that, he leaves the room, switching the light off and shutting the door behind him. I internally curse him out, but am too out of it to fully wrap my head around what this would mean. I would really be going to a party, my first one since the accident, with people I barely know. What could possibly go wrong?

===

A lot. A lot could go wrong. I had come to this conclusion after staring at myself in the mirror for nearly half an hour, second-guessing every outfit I tried on and scrutinizing every detail about myself: my hair, my eyes, my eyebrows, my nose, everything. I pondered over whether or not I should wear earrings for five minutes alone. Would they think I'm cool or weird for them?

"Karl, you ready?" Schlatt says, knocking on the door before opening it slightly and peering in to see me, a nervous wreck. "You're not even dressed!"

"I don't know what to wear! Help me, I'm overthinking everything!"

Schlatt bursts out laughing, pushing past the door and into my room. He goes straight to my closet, beginning to rummage through the little options I have inside. He mumbles to himself as he searches, going through shirts I didn't even know I owned. He even begins to stroke his lamb chops as he looks before eventually deciding on something. He throws the clothes onto the bed and then goes to my dresser, where a little jewelry box is open and a bunch of its contents are spilled everywhere.

He grabs a few of those as well before putting them on top of the clothes and going to the little rack of shoes I have in the corner. After choosing something random and putting them with the rest of the pile, he leaves without another word. I smile a little to myself before observing what he picked out.

The shoes he picked are my standard black high top Converses, so nothing special there. For the outfit, he chose black jeans that are ripped at the knee and a purple sweater with a built in collar. Again, nothing too out of the ordinary of something I would typically wear. And lastly, the jewelry he got was a matching set of silver stud earrings and my usual silver rings. None of this was different from a daily outfit. I thought you were supposed to dress up for parties...

I still put on the clothes, fixing up my hair and spritzing a bit of cologne on before exiting to see an impatient yet amused Schlatt by the door. He looks me up and down when I come out and whistles, a smirk growing on his lips.

"Looking good, Karl! You finally ready?"

I nod, too anxious to say anything. Schlatt leaves and I follow, letting him lead me to the car. When I sit inside the black Mustang Schlatt got from his father for his twenty-first birthday, I swallow my nerves, shoving them down into the pit of my stomach. Why did I agree to this? I could've said no. I shouldn't be going right now, I should be at home doing my work or-

"Karl, relax man. It'll be fine," Schlatt says after noticing my shaking hands.

I just nod again, staring straight out the windshield and focusing on the moon in the sky. North Carolina has very pretty scenery, I must admit, but I still miss Minnesota. Maybe it's just because it's where I grew up, but I want to go back desperately. I want to go back to those much simpler times, when I didn't have to worry about bad grades or disappointing people or visiting relatives.

The older you get, the more of an expectation people have for you. They expect you to take lessons from your peers and excel to the top of your class, to "be the best you you can be", but sometimes a person's best is simply mediocre. And that's okay. I wish that more people realized that. You don't have to get good grades or be super athletic to be a good kid, someone worthy of praise. Talents extend beyond the boundaries of things as bland as that, and everyone has a talent. Some are discovered on a whim, by accident; others are obtained through years of hard work. It might take some time until you find out what your talent is, but that's alright.

What's my talent? I have no idea. I'm not smart, I'm not athletic, I'm not a people person. I don't have fashion expertise or an artistic brain. But I don't really care. I'll find something I'm good at some day, and until then I'm good with barely scraping by doing the standard.

"You're doing that thing again," Schlatt chuckles, taking me from my rambling thoughts. I raise an eyebrow at him. "You're mumbling to yourself."

"Oh, sorry," I mutter, embarrassed, wondering what I said.

"Don't worry about it. What were you thinking about just now? From what I caught, you seemed to feel very passionately about the subject."

I shrug, "Just how pointless it is to try and be something you aren't."

"True," Schlatt laughs, turning his attention back to the road. That's when I realize we are no longer on the main street, but are now in a fancy neighborhood out of campus boundaries. We pull up in front of one house in particular: it has large windows and tall white pillars. "Here we are!"

I take one more minute to push aside my anxiety before getting out of the car.

Word Count- 1189

a/n- im thinking two uploads daily cuz theres just under 50 chapters on this one... but anyway! um, this chapters also boring, i know, but it gets better in the next one. i have no idea what else to say so ill just leave it at that.