Can I Have Your Attention Please

Chapter 22: Kev Marcus & Wil B.

A/N: Remember that one "chapter" that I put before I actually started the story labeled "Backpacker." Now would be the time to go back and refresh on what that said if you don't remember. :) And remember the term from here on out.

Also, prepare for a long ass chapter.

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QOC: What's your ethnicity? (I am Caucasian.)

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Sam's POV
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I've never been on a date before.

It's odd to think about because I've been all over California, traveling and backpacking as much as I can. And by backpacking, I don't mean literally backpacking. Not using one of those giant ass packs you hike mountains with for days.

No, I'm talking about something else. Because whereas backpackers of the literal sense carry around their survival necessities, I carry around adventure and determination. I am a backpacker, in both the metaphorical and literal aspect. I wish I could physically travel more, but at least I carry around a streak of motivation to keep me going. For Emily.

Anyway, I think it's just strange to think that - despite me going everywhere and seeing everything in Cali - I've never been on a date. I've never even taken a genuine interest in any guy before, unless I found them attractive and looked from afar for a brief moment. So this is all new, and to my pride's annoyance, I am actually sorta kinda excited to be going on one with Kason (if you consider it a date, that is).

But judging on the outfit that's currently hugging my body, I'd say that this is most likely a date. A guy doesn't just buy you these kinds of materials and says, "Oh I just wanna chill." So, if my inexperienced butt adds everything up correctly, then I can assume that this is most definitely a date.

The full length body mirror captures my curves and thin body perfectly. I stare back at my reflection in shock. Kason's taste in clothing is really good, but I'm so...thin. It looks like I haven't eaten in a long time. And I'm really pale, paler than I should be. Typically I'm very tan, as I'm always outside. So it gives me a sickly vibe.

The thing is though: I feel fine. I don't feel as sick as I look. I don't feel sick at all actually. I'm not queasy or light-headed or anything at all. But I look disgusting. The dress was meant for a beautiful body, and that body is not mine.

I begin to feel really insecure about my complexion. My fingers gently touch my face, which owns a nose that is too small and lips that are aren't the shape I'd wish they be. I think about how tiny my arms look, even though they're probably bigger than what I'm making them up to be. And my eyes have dark circles underneath them, that not even concealer could hide. Why am I only realizing now how gross I appear?

I hear a gasp behind me and flinch, snapping out of my self-loathing gaze. I turn around to see Kassidy with her hands covering her mouth, eyes twinkling.

"Oh my gosh, Sam! You're so gorgeous!" She breathes, stepping over to me. Her eyes rake over the dress. "Where'd you get that?"

I look down, not taking her compliment easily. I twiddle my fingers uncomfortably. "Your brother got the shoes and the dress."

I meet her eyes again, to see them dancing in impressiveness and smirkiness. "I told him you looked good in red."

I gnaw at my bottom lip and gaze at her oddly. "You aren't irritated or weirded out by this at all?" I question. "Because usually the cliche is that the best friend gets ticked about her brother going out with her own best friend."