Fashion's Princess

12| Garreth Foley

After a long and treacherous flight, we finally reached JFK. Like always, Zack was driving and I was busy doing something else. 

"Hi, I'm Skyler. You must be Mr. Foley." I recited for the hundredth time. 

"Hi, I'm Zack. I'm very annoyed." He did a horrible imitation of me so I reached over and whacked him with my notebook. I was trying to finish up my AP Biology note outline and recite my dinner with the Foleys at the same time. 

"You know they probably don't care, right? I mean the mom was friendly enough, Hunter too. So their father's probably going to be just as nice." Zack assured me as if he actually met them. 

"Well, Jay himself already said that his dad was more of a workaholic." I pressed and took out my dying yellow highlighter. Cursing at how it wouldn't work, I tossed it back into my backpack. 

"Workaholics can be nice." Zack countered. I glared at him and stuffed my notebook into my backpack. 

"What am I supposed to wear?" I wailed, burying my face into my hands. "You have all those expensive dresses from all those friends of yours, don't you? Wear those." He looked at me flatly. 

I scowled. "Yeah, I do. But I don't feel like that's dressing for success." I grumbled, leaning my seat back so I could watch his facial expressions more closely. 

Zack hit the brakes and I lurched forward. "Hey, watch it." I complained. 

"Dress for success?" He looked at me with both eyebrows and breathing hard from the sudden stop. 

"I'm not going to be a success if you manage to kill the both of us with your horrible driving skills." I pointed out, adjusting myself so I would be ready to survive. 

"It's just a dinner, Skyler. And hanging out at their house for like one or two more hours. Whether it'd be a success or not, that really depends on them." He said, pulling into my apartment parking. 

"Well, too bad. Just for almost getting the two of us killed, you're helping to decide my dress." I decided self-satisfactorily. 

Zack groaned but followed me up to my floor anyways. 

I always felt slightly guilty every time we hung out. I've only seen his apartment once and it was barely the size of my bedroom. 

He was quiet when I led him into my bedroom. I quickly threw out four choices that would suffice as appropriate formal dinners. At least that's what Elisabeth said, who knows if we're eating caviar with thousand dollar dresses. Maybe we're just eating Burger King. 

"So, choice 1: Gucci." I held up a matte black dress. There was a belt around the waist, barely visible due to the similar coloring. 

"And I'm going to pair it up with this." I reached into my closet and held up a pair of black Prada ballet flats. 

Zack winced. "Too much black?" He asked. "Good point. The dress is pretty boring enough." I considered and put it back in my closet. I let the shoes stay out, black shoes match with pretty much everything. 

I reached to the gray section of closet and pulled out a floor length dress. "Okay. Choice 2: Vera Wang. Brown belt and grey ruffles." I held up the black Pradas again and Zack shrugged. 

"The color choice is a bit bland. And it looks like a tulip." He said. I groaned, rolling my eyes to pray for the perfect dress. 

"Wait a second." I said and went inside my closet. Yes, it's a walk-in. It wasn't like I even needed many clothes. When I'm not working, it's just a t-shirt and jeans. But I have so many dresses from my friends, red carpets, and just whatever I do.