When a parent dies, it leaves a hole in the center of your chest. The hole will always be there but over time the pain will ease. When you watch the person who inspires you to become a dancer dies suddenly; your passion for dancing dies with them. W...
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I don't even know why I told Amy sure about going to the Charity Ball with her. I guess I wanted to see Phoebe's reaction or because honestly to see what Pheebs would have done. I swear her eyes were shooting daggers at me. I mean if they could have, I would be ten feet under right now. All I know right now is I'm regretting telling her sure. Amy has told me since that day I was to wear pink so we would 'match' like a couple.
A couple?
We aren't a couple.
I said sure because I didn't want to seem like a dick and turn her down. Plus it was obvious I wanted to piss Pheebs off and of course see her reaction like I mentioned earlier. I however, instead of picking out anything pink on my tuxedo went with a navy blue. I prefer that color anyways. Who said we had to match?
I sure didn't.
I'm my own person, I choose what I want to wear and it damn sure wasn't going to be pink. My tuxedo pants are navy blue, my dress shirt was white, my vest matched my tuxedo pants along with my tie and jacket. My dress shoes are black. I style my hair neatly as I can which is pretty much nonexistent if you were to ask me. I tap on Amy's door and in seconds she's materialized right in front of me. No offense you looks like a damn crayola marker.
"That's not pink." She states.
"Oops." Is all I say.
"You look like a blueberry." She complains.
"At least I look editable. You look like a crayola fucking marker. Come on before we're late." I snap. How can she complain about my tuxedo when she literally looks like a goddamn fucking bright marker. A slutty marker at that!
She's in a glittery skin tight, I don't even know how she managed to squeeze into tight, Barbie pink dress. The dress swoops so low that if she was to bend over her melons would be on full display. Then again, if she bends over she might rip the back of her dress. There's a slit that goes almost to her hip bone. She's in at least six inch heels because we're almost eye level now. Her hair is the only decent thing on her. It's pulled into an elegant bun. Her make-up reminds me of Mimi Bobeck from the Drew Carey show. Instead of harsh bright blue eyeshadow that isn't blended. It's fucking pink and has the same harshness to it as Mimi. Call me a dick all you want but I believe the eyeshadow is supposed to be blended into perfection not harsh lines and well not blended..... At all.
I walk with her to my truck as she continues to bitch about my tuxedo. I tune her out completely and start my truck up again. I pull out of the small driveway and head towards our small town's convention center. Directly behind the convention center is our Botanical Garden. It is a blink away drive from her house.....
Thank the sweet Heavens above.
As soon as we get out of the truck and start walking down the walkway..... We bump into Lane, Jackson, Lorelei, and Phoebe.
