Better Than The Books

Chapter Three

~IVY~

"Sam, you have to get ready now."

I turn around to see Sam laying on her bed, a book in hand.

"I don't even know what to wear", she detaches her look from 'Better Than the Movies'.

"That's why I'm here, you idiot", I open her wardrobe.

It's filled with dresses she never wore even once and jeans she wears every day.

"What's sure is it'll be a dress", I declare.

She gets up, sighing: "Alright."

"What about this one?" I pull out a white dress.

"Too simple, isn't it?"

"You're right", I put it back in place.

"And this one is too discrete too", I wonder out loud.

"I think I might just have found the right one", I pull a short-sleeved dress out.

It's long and the white fabric is covered with drawings of red roses.

⳾*⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*⳾

I put my second earring, passing my hand on my dress to avoid folds.

Perhaps I'm too dressed for a teenage party.

I'm wearing a short black dress, high black heels and gloves of the same color at the height of my chest.

I fix a black ribbon in my hair, putting them half-up and take my black Guess handbag.

Sam gets out of the bathroom, her dress on.

I smile: "You look gorgeous."

"You're even more gorgeous, Vee-vee", she replies.

"Are we ready to go?"I ask

"We are."

We go down the stairs and after a last goodbye to Andrea -Sam's mom-, get out.

"According to Google Maps, we have approximately twenty minutes of walking", I declare, putting my phone in my bag. "You really should take your driver's test, Sam."

"You could too", she replies.

"Well, my father won't let me drive anyways."

"I'm sorry, Vee", she takes my hand.

"It's okay. His asshole attitude has nothing to do with you."

"You know you can talk to me anytime."

"I know", I reply.

I don't want to overwhelm her with my silly family problems and complain about dad while she lived without hers almost her whole life. I have the chance to have a 'normal' family.

"Can't we take an uber?" I ask, sighing.

"There's no uber here, Vee-vee", Sam replies. "Plus, we're almost there."

"That's not true, we're three miles away", I reply, making a face.

I sit on a bench: "I can't walk anymore."

My high heels start to hurt my feet. I didn't dress myself to walk a marathon.

"Ivy, come on!" Sam takes my hands and tries to make me stand up.

"No, I can't walk, Sammey."

She sits next to me, crossing both her legs and arms.

"You were the one who wanted me to go to this party"