Falling In Love With You

Chapter 10. Take My Whole Life, Too

Warning: this chapter contains some mild smut, read at your own risk

December 2003

Bex rummaged through her closet, flipping through the hangers. "Man, I have a lot of black clothes," she said to herself, under her breath.

"I agree."

She jumped. "Mom! You scared the crap out of me," she cried, turning around.

"Sorry," Celia said from the doorway. "I just don't think it would kill you to add some color to your wardrobe." She came into the room. "What are you looking for?" She looked around the room. Clothes were strewn everywhere, heaped on the bed, and spilling out of the dresser.

"I'm trying to find something to wear to the Winter dance," Bex explained without looking up. The high school always held a dance the night before winter break began. She'd never gone before, but this year, Bowie had talked her into it. They were in the twelfth grade now. They'd been dating exclusively for over a year, and everything was great.

She never really saw Joel again after the incident at the party the year before. He'd transferred schools not too long after that, and his mother went to work for another agency. What happened had effectively ended Celia and Mrs. Tan's friendship- Joel's mom had blamed Bex for what had happened, creating a rift between them. Bex was just happy he was gone, and life went on.

"Well, you can't wear anything in here," Celia told her, studying the contents of Bex's closet. She expressed her wish for her daughter to dress nicer often. But all the young girl seemed interested in was dressing like those rockers she listened to on the radio.

"I don't see why I can't just wear jeans," Bex sighed. "It's semi-formal. Doesn't that mean part of it can be casual?"

"You're not wearing jeans, Rebecca," Celia said. "You'll look ridiculous with all the other girls wearing dresses." She began picking up her daughter's discarded clothing and putting them back on their hangers.

"I hate dresses," Bex frowned, chewing her lip. "But maybe I can borrow something from Emily."

"Emily is a head shorter than you," her mom reminded her. "No. You should buy something."

"Really?" Bex asked, surprised.

"Sure," Celia said. "Let me get my purse." She left the room and returned with her bag. "Here. Take this," she said, handing her some cash. "And pick out something tasteful," she reminded her. "Nothing skin tight or short."

"I guess that rules out the showgirl costume I've had my eye on," Bex teased.

Celia rolled her eyes. "Funny."

"Looks like I'm going shopping," Bex said.

****

Bex reached behind her back for her zipper. She pulled it up, and straightened her new dress. It wasn't new, new, but it was new to her. She'd found it in the thrift shop, and had fallen in love. Made of red lace, it was her lucky color, and it was just her size. And it fell modestly just above her knees, so Celia would have to approve.

She straightened it, modeling it in front of her mirror.

"Rebecca!" Celia called from the hallway. "Bowie's here. Are you almost ready?"

"Yeah, mom," Bex called back. "One sec."

Her mom walked into her room uninvited, as she always did. Her eyes widened. "Rebecca. You look lovely." She reached out to touch the short cap sleeve of the dress. "Where did you buy this?"