Dress Sizing |chapter 5|

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Waking up befor 6 am isn't my cup of tea, but when your fathers wife wants to design a new dress, you have to be the model. I quickly got dressed by throwing some sweats and a hoodie on. When we got to the shop it was about sunrise. We had entered the shop, the cool air hit me like a reaking ball. Cynthia put her bags on the counter and directed me to the back of the store where the changing room was and the display panel. I took off my cloths and put on the nearly finished dress. As she was pinning the seees, we sat in silents not knowing what to say. When I looked at her, she was very cofused on what she was doing.

"Cynthia," I said, looking down at her. "Yes sweetie?" She asked. "Thank you for the new makeup," I blurted out. That was the only think I could think of the talk about. Not, 'How was your day' or 'I love the dress'. 'Thank you for the makeup'. Right when it came out of my mouth I admittedly felt like an idiot. The problem wasn't that I disliked Cynthia, it's that she wasn't my mom and we had nothing in common. I liked cool dark clothes while she liked bright outgoing looks. We were complete opposites. It was hard to connect with her.

"Thank you Katherine," she replied. After a while of complete silence for a second time. Cynthia decided to start the conversation this time. "Katherine?" She said, standing up to meet my eyes. "I'm sorry about what you went through. You know, with your mother." For a second her word choice caught me off gaurd. To me, mom and mother ment two different things. A mother was someone who was blood and decided to stick around. A mom was someone who cared for you when you needed it. To have a shoulder to cry on or tell all your drama. Especially boys. I gave her a slight smile.

"It's alright Cynthia," I said. "Your weren't the one to... you know." She gave me a slight nod and started hem the bustier. After awhile all hemming and shearing done and she let me look in the mirror. The beyond floor length dress came right up to my ankles and some of the over exaggerated gems were cut off. "You look beautiful Kathrine," she said, putting her hands on my shoulder looking at the mirror was well. I looked over at the glass window and door and saw the sun out and telling the world it was ready to start the day. I looked over at Cynthia who had a hopeful look in her eyes about her masterpiece.

"Cynthia," I began. "Do you want to go to Pops for some breakfast?" She looked over at me with even a bigger smile. "Of course Kathrine," she replied. The way we talked to each other was so basic. We never really addressed her as 'step-mom' or 'step-daughter'. It was always either 'my husband's daughter', 'Katherine', or in my case 'Cynthia' or 'my dad's wife'. I guess in some way, that's why I call people by their last name. Let's be formal before I really tell you anything about myself. When we arrived at Pop's, I ordered while Cynthia went toe the bathroom. But right before I could sit down I heard something from behind me.

"The protocol Evans as returned," Jughead said, sitting in the booth for four. "Jones has become a sarcastic asshole I see," I said, sitting in the opposite side of him. "Are you do with the chapter yet?" He turned his computer around to show me. Since I'm a fast reader and I have no payshents what so ever, I was dons with the chapter in under five minutes. "It's good but you should add more detail of what you saw. Not dictating the entire thing. I got bored half way through," I said, turning the laptop back around. "That took me days to write, how did you just finish it?" He asked. I shrugged my shoulders. Pop came over and gave us both a cup of coffee. As I heald the hot mug in my hands, I could feel the warmth alround my body.

"So Jones in your opinion, whats Riverdale High like?" I asked, taking a sip of the caffeinated drink. "Well it all depends on where you land if the socal structure. If your a River Vixen or a BullDog than you would have everyone worshiping at your feet. If your semi popular than people know who you are but they don't really care to get to know you. If your new the popular people will try to be your friends but most of the time it's just a waist. But if your a socal outcast..." he took a pause. I should tell by the way he dressed and acted than he fell into this unpropomatic crowd. "... than you pushed around more than you can keep count in a day."

Instead of looking me in the eyes like before, he eyes lead back to his computer typing. "What are the classes like?" I questioned. Instead of giving a long and detailed answer. He gave a simple and short one. "Basic, not changing enough." As I sipped my coffee, we sat in silents, not knowing what to say. But when I left a presents behind me, I saw Cynthia walking over. "Kathrine is this another one of your friends?" She asks. This seemed to catch Jughead attention because he looked up from his computer faster than I ever thought a person could do. "Cynthia this is Jughead Jones," I said, gesturing to him.

He quickly stood up to greet her. They shook hands and she asked a few questions, when Jughead was done answering, he sat back down and closed is computer. "Well I'm not going to say for long, I have to open shop," she said walking over to the counter to wait for her food. I looked over at Jughead and he looked at we with some type of eyes. I couldn't quite make it out but I could tell he was curious about something. "So that's your mom?" He asked, taking a sip coffee. "Dad's wife," I answered blankly. For some reason he didn't like that answer and his eyes lit up more. "I'm not talking about my mother Jones," I told him. Be backed off which I wasn't expecting.

"Understandable Evans," he replied. "I don't like talking about my parents either." For some reason by this comment I stooped tencing and put in a smile.

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