I Loathe The L Word (On Hold)

Eleven

Above is the dress that Charlotte wears in this chapter. ↑

"What was your first crush?" Ian asked, leaning back against the white plastic chair outside Subway. When we got back to the mall, we had nothing to do and I stupidly suggested 20 Questions and was now trapped on the dreaded questions relating to crushes.

I shrugged and sipped my Sprite without ice. "I would have to say... Alexander Wilkinson in third grade."

Ian raised an eyebrow and I knew the name had to be somewhat familiar to Ian being that Alex was a member of the Football team known for being the player of the century. "It was before he realized girl's got hotter and got boobs," I added. "Once upon a time, he was a good guy. Now, what about you?"

"Umm, Sierra Montreal, second grade. I proposed to her, ya know." He bit into his Italiano Melt and swallowed, "She turned me down cold."

I choked, "Sierra Montreal? Casey's best friend? The b-"

"YES," He interrupted.

"Well, well. Somebody has a thing for pretty popular girls. That's not surprising." I quirked an eyebrow and crumbled up my sandwich wrapper, "What I mean to say is, it's seriously cliché. Nerd and player, nerd and popular, nerd and... whatever clichés."

He chuckled dryly, "Yeah, okay. Question two: If you had to pick any guy in the school to date, who would that guy be?"

Glaring at him, I lifted my wrapper and shot it, watching it sore about three feet before bouncing off the trashcan, rebounding toward a poor woman holding a chinese takeout tray, hitting her square in the forehead, and gently rolling away. I covered my eyes and ducked my head, "Oh, gawd. Did she see me!?" I hissed.

"Uuuuuhhh, yes."

"WHAT!? How!?" I choked, peeking up at him through my parted fingers.

He rolled his eyes, "Well, you do look very inconspicuous as you duck your head and whisper."

I looked up a bit to glare at him and saw the woman looking at me, her eyes narrowed and a ln evil-looking sneer on her face. "Uuuh.... Ian!" I shouted, making him and every person in earshot jump, "Let's go try on clothing!" Grabbing his forearm, I dragged him passed the carousel and down the escalator.

He stumbled as I pulled him along like a beloved ragdoll, "What if I don't want to try on clothing?"

I huffed and stopped in the doorway of some expensive looking shop, "Then you get to watch and help pick out stupid outfits." Grabbing his hand, I raced inside and automatically went to the dresses, hand picking five plain dresses and a poofy, pink number that reminded me of the dresses you see at quinceaneras on TV. "Pick out two dresses," I instructed, pointing to the row of dresses my size.

"Ugghhh," He grunted like a child before stomping over to the short party dresses and picking out a black and white one with a weird purply one. "Here," He tossed them into my hands before he was dragging me to the dressing rooms. "Let's get the girly fest over with."

____________

I slipped the pink poofy dress over my body and scowled at it from the mirror. The thing went to my knees and made cupcake hands look normal, I had no idea what weirdo would actually buy the thing on purpose. "ARE YOU COMING OUT OR WHAT?"

Rolling my eyes, I threw open the door and trudged out into the little couch area. "These people have awful taste in design."

He looked up from hia phone, "What do you- WHAT ARE YOU WEARING!?" He burst out laughing, holding his phone to his mouth in a dumb attempt to muffle the loud outburst. That was when a couple passed us and the guy squinted at me, "Take a picture, it lasts longer!" I snapped, annoyed by his leering.