Face off

Chapter One: Girls night out

I shivered, giving in and zipping my jacket closed. Stupid Canadian weather. It was ruining my outfit.

"Come on Willow!" I shoved my hands into my pockets and jogged a few steps to catch up with my friends, who in typical fashion, had accidentally worn coordinated outfits. Since the day I met them, I had affectionately dubbed them "the twins" They didn't look identical as they weren't actually twins, but I was sure they somehow managed to share some weird telepathy power.

Like tonight. None of us had discussed what we were wearing tonight, nor did we get ready together, but somehow these two managed to reverse mirror their outfits. Kirsten had curled her long blonde hair and left it loose so it almost tucked into the cleavage of her lacy black body suit. It was technically lingerie, but modest enough to wear it out to the club. With it she paired her practically painted on red pleather skirt with black heels.

Robin on the other hand curled her own blonde hair, just a few shades darker than Kirsten's, and tied it back in a half-up ponytail style. She wore a non lace and less see through but much lower cut red bodysuit paired with a black miniskirt and red heels the same shade as her top. I still couldn't figure out how she avoided flashing everyone since her painted-on top was cut nearly low enough to see her belly button.

"I'm coming damn it," I laughed. I may have been the tallest out of the three of us, but even my long legs couldn't compare to their "I'm on a mission," pace. Even in their heels. As usual, as the tallest of the three I'd opted for my black chuck Taylors. I'd considered wedges to feel a little more "dressed" but Will had vetoed that decision, as well as my first three outfit choices. As my boyfriend, he wanted me to try and dress "a little more modestly" since it was a girl's night so he wouldn't be out with us. For some reason he thought it was disrespectful for a woman to get dressed up for anyone who isn't her boyfriend. Which usually wasn't a big deal since he hated going out to clubs anyway so we never did, and he hated when my heels made me seem "too tall" for him. Since he started playing for our college Hockey team, the Ravens he'd become obsessed with his image. He was looking to get drafted after all and scouts were everywhere. He'd played his entire life, and making the NHL had been his dream since he was a kid. I understood to a degree so I went along with it. But times like these had me wishing for him to cool it. The twins were drop dead gorgeous and dressed to the nines tonight, but I on the other hand looked still good, yes, but also several levels beneath them.

It had been a topic of discussion lately as every time we went out with the team for celebratory drinks the other guys brought their girlfriends who were always, like the twins, dressed to impress and I was always in flats paired with pants or a "modest enough" skirt, a tame top, and moderate makeup. I could do whatever I wanted with my hair but that was the only outfit decision he let me make on my own. He would always tell me I didn't need to get the attention of every guy in the room, it would make him and myself look bad. He refused to believe that I liked to get dressed up for myself and not every male I could get to look at me. Though I usually dropped the discussion before it could get too far since he didn't believe anything I said. He blamed it on past relationships and being cheated on by girls before. Which was understandable, but you would think that after two years he would trust me by now.

I shook off my thoughts, and followed the girls through the double doors into Club envy, the most popular place around for college students. We stopped briefly at coat check, and stopped into the bathroom for one last outfit check. I adjusted my dark brown hair in its wavy side part, eyeing how my Plum colored V-neck made my cleavage look fantastic. It was just a plain shirt but it was one of my favorite "Borderline" shirts as Will liked to call them. It was tucked into my high waisted black jeans that accentuate my curves nicely. I may have been cursed in the height department, banning me to a life without heels, but at least I had some nice curves to go with it.