Can I Be Your Superman

The Truth Can Be Embarrassing

Ok, maybe I am wearing my around-the-house clothes with Ian.

 When the doorbell rang, Mom just calls out, "It's open!" So, I ran into my room, jumping the couch on the way, to get dressed. I threw on some school clothes- a skirt and sweater ensemble complete with my favorite pearl necklace- and bounded out of my bedroom and right into Ian.

  "Frig it, Nerd!" Ian hissed at me while rubbing his chin. "Why are you so d*mned clumsy?" Looking me up and down, he simply said, "You aren’t wearing that. Go change." 

  While I stood gaping at him and rubbing my forehead, he gave me a push back into my room and threatened me saying, "Either get dressed properly or I'll dress you myself."

  I had felt my eyebrows furrowing in anger, confusion and embarrassment and slammed the door in his face. How dare he? I mean, it's not enough he had to infiltrate my life, but now he's telling me how to dress and to change my wardrobe? What the heck? Like, controlling much?  

 Not really sure what Ian wanted, I changed into a different school outfit. I kept the pearls because I really liked them. When I stepped out of my room, Ian was still standing there.

  "No."

  "Why not?" I asked petulantly.

  "Because I know the kinds of clothes you have and I don't want to see your grandma clothes today. I get enough of those at school."

  With eyes as wide as saucers, my mouth fell open. What the h*ll?!?  

 Ian looked at me expectantly and waited for me to do what he said. Growing impatient at my unmoving state quickly, he shook his head in an aggravated way and walked past me into my bedroom, grasping my arm in the process, and closed the door.

  For one whole second, I panicked. If he decided to have his way with me, there wasn't a h*ll-of-a-lot I could do. Even mom wouldn't be able to pull him off- he was too strong.

  But this is Ian I'm thinking about. He can be violent and a playboy, but he would never physically hurt me. Besides, he could have any girl -in school or out- that he wanted. So, he wouldn't even bother with me. I'm just a...

  A what? What am I to Ian? A friend? No, we aren't that close. Someone he stalks? That might be a little closer to the truth.... What am I to Ian Fulton?

  Ian interrupted my thoughts by throwing some clothes at me.    "Put them on, brush your hair and let's go", he commanded, stalking past me to the door on his way out. I looked at what they had given me. 

  Aw, h*ll no.

  Ian had thrown my jean miniskirt and my black lacy tank top. Now, here's the thing about that particular outfit. The skirt comes to the middle of my thighs and flares out at the bottom.... If there is even a little bit of a breeze, somebody is getting a peepshow! Also, my shirt is one of my few that don’t properly cover my breasts. I can't bend over in this outfit, at all.

  I cannot and will not wear this.

  Walking out of my room, I look at Ian and say, "H*ll no. It's not happening."

  Looking at me, Ian replied, "You have thirty seconds to get your *ss in that room and get dressed or I'm going to drag you in there and dress you myself."  

"No, you won't", I responded smugly. "Mom wouldn't let you do that."

  "If you notice, your mother isn't here. She left", Ian drawled with an evil glint in his eyes. "You now have 17 seconds."

  Gulping a little bit, I stood my ground. "I don't believe you. You wouldn't just randomly strip me then throw clothes at me."

  "You’re quite right. I wouldn't just throw clothes at you. I am going to put them on you. In five..."