Hate You, Love You. | Jenlisa

101

Friday comes around all too quickly, making the rest of the week feel like a blur, mostly because the dance is next week and Rosé wouldn't shut up about it.

She's not the only one that won't shut up about it.

Almost all the girls at school can't contain their excitement about where they would shop to get their 'Sadie Looks.' I've heard a lot more high end brand names this week alone than I've heard in my entire life.

Also, I've seen a lost of them ask their crush/significant other to the dance in the halls of the school. They turned it into such a spectacle that I was starting to wonder if we were in a circus.

Of course, the girls aren't clowns but some of them might as well be the next best thing because some got rejected... in public.

Embarrassment in front of the whole school is social suicide, something you may or may not be able to recover from and being rejected by your crush is just rubbing salt in the wound.

"What do you think about this one?" She puts a sheer material on her body and twirls in front of her mirror. "Too showy?"

"Too... booby."

"I agree."

She tosses the gown on the bed and grabs another one.

Instead of sifting through stores to search for the 'perfect dress' like we originally planned, Rosé decided last minute that it'll be better if her mom's stylist delivered a total of fifty dresses to the residence.

How the stylist was able to pull off the delivery of fifty dresses within a span of 3 hours? I have no idea but she's damn good at her job if I do say so myself.

Why Rosé had a change of heart? All the high end stores would be full of girls shopping for the dance and she didn't want to run into anyone she knew or have a 'bitch stole my look' moment.

Rich people.

The dresses were delivered to her home, sorry, her mansion, before she came back from school and she called me to come over so we could choose which would be 'more Rosé and less Jennie.' Whatever the fuck that means, I don't know , but I do know we have tried a total of 10 dresses and none of them have appealed to her.

"Black." She picks up a YSL dress. "This looks more like it'd be for you. I don't like black." She hands it to me and I examine the dress. "I like black but its just not my style. Maybe you're judging it a little too harshly," I try to reason with her because it's really pretty. "Try it on and see if you like it."

"You think so?"

"Yeah."

"I'll be right back."

She runs to her walk-in closet with the dress in hand while I arrange the dresses she rejected into a neat pile at the side of her bed. "Jen," she calls out.

"Yeah."

"Are you really sure you're not going?"

"I am."

She comes out of the closet (pun intended) and I nod in approval. It's not bad at all and fits her petite figure very well.

"What do you think?"

"I think you look amazing."

She moves to her full length mirror and admires the dress, turning to the sides to examine herself like most of us do. "I actually like it." It contrasts her skin and hugs her curves in all the right places. "It makes my butt look good too."

"If you have a butt." I joke.

She sticks her tongue out. "Shut up."

"Butt's aside, you look great."