Everything Blue [ OMHK, Book 2 ]

Speechless

"The trouble about jumping was that if you didn't pick the right number of stories, you might still be alive when you hit bottom."
― Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

(Fun Fact - Sylvia Plaith committed suicide shortly after the first publication of this book.)

"I'm gonna bring Tyler over to his house real quick so he can get ready," I mocked in a high-pitched voice, glaring at my wall.

Luna had the nerve to look me straight in the eyes and say something like that?

I clenched my jaw, growing ridiculously angry.

Yeah, well, she's gonna regret it.

Calm down Jen, you're overreacting, I assured myself, but what she said kept replaying in my head, fueling my annoyance. There'd been an edge of cockiness in her voice that set me off, but either way, I was gonna get even somehow, and I was gonna do it by gaining Tyler's utmost attention.

Since the festival started at 6 P.M, I still had a couple hours to get ready.

I put on a simple white bikini, silently praising the lords that I remembered to shave my legs last night.

Being in nothing but a swimsuit in front of hundreds of other people was gonna prove to be an emotional challenge, but I knew that I would be too caught up in the fun to care about my self-consciousness. I wasn't ashamed of my scars, nor did I care what people thought of them, but I hated staring.

Unfortunately for me, staring seemed to be something that people did best. I found it to be incredibly rude, but I tolerated it, understanding that if I saw a girl with scars all over her body, I'd probably do a double-take too.

Sighing, I began to search through my closet. After a long while of picking and choosing, I finally decided on a beautiful black dress that I'd bought a long time ago, but never got to wear.

I took it off of the hanger, vowing to blow Luna's stupid white dress out of the water.

Although my choice of apparel fit me a little bit tighter than I remembered, I didn't mind. Smiling at myself, I took a deep breath, finally peeking at myself in my bedroom mirror.

The dresses sleeves were long, made out of delicately-woven, transparent lace. It had a soft, low-cut v-neck, and I never really went out of my way to show cleavage, but the dress had the perfect balance between elegance and risqué. The bottom of of the silky, black fabric pooled at my feet, and I gathered it up in my hands, feeling like a dark, badass version of Cinderella.