Madly In Love

Chapter Five: Lost with Regrets

:)) 

Chapter Five:

“So…? What do you think? Too trashy?” She waves her thin arms around the scrap of fabric she’s currently wearing as a dress. Her brow is creased and her lips pouted as if she’s battling a deep, meaningful grievance.

“Uh… No…” I purse my lips, but my eyes crinkle at the sides as she grins widely and twirls. The fabric rides up, showing a slight glimpse of the curve of her behind. I gasp with contained laughter and shake my head for her to stop. “No, it’s not too trashy. If you’re a hooker. Are you hooker?”

Her face snarls in outrage as she grapples for a weapon, I lift one of the many silk cushions from her bed to shield myself as she lobs a pink plastic coat-hanger at my head.

“This is really expensive and designer. I don’t even know why I asked, you wouldn’t know fashion if it hit you square in the face.” She sulks, throwing herself down on her bed beside me with a heart-heavy sigh.

I pat her shoulder before lowering myself down beside her with my own sigh.

“I was being honest. I pride myself on my honesty and really. That dress is so not you. This is a high school rager. Nobody with a shard of class will be showing this much skin in the middle of November, it’s freezing. Let me be your best friend as I tell you just how wrong that dress is for you.”

I fold over on my side to face her as she closes her eyes and throws an arm over her face with a frustrated growl.

“I’ve tried everything! My only option is to show him my goods and lure him into my seductive force-field and hope he likes my killer super-model legs.” Her voice whines and I roll my eyes at her antics.

But she’s right and a small, selfish part of me worries that if I allow her to go in with her ‘super-model’ legs and the twins out, he might just go for her.

We’re in high school.

Filled with horny, pre-pubescent school boys who get all excited when they catch a momentary glimpse of fricking side-boob at the school swimming pool.

It’s ridiculous and I’d like to think that Daniel is too mature and grown up to be lured in by such desperate moves. But I know him and a small, teeny-weeny part of me worries that he would fold under the pressure of Meredith’s double-‘D’s’.

So I make a desperate move of my own and feed little mind-bending phrases that send Meredith into a tizzy and out of the dangerous, scrap-fabric dress mode.

“He looks like a guy who’d go for the classy, mysterious type. You could nail that. But not in that dress.” I feed to her. But it’s true. That dress barely qualifies as a T-shirt and she wants to parade around pretending that it’s a dress?

And without my never-ending guidance, she would wear it. But luckily, she does have my guidance.

“Take it off.” She stands and obediently steps out of the little ruby-red slip, flicking her heeled ankle and sending it sprawling into a corner with the rest of the rejects.

So much for ‘really expensive’.

A typical Monday afternoon, really.

-----*-----

When I finally make it home, it’s late, like really late.

And I know my parents will be freaked and mom will smother me as my dad lectures me.

But when I step out of Meredith’s purple wedges and shrug out of her cropped leather coat, I am not rushed into our tiny living room.

In fact, I am met with only silence.