Love or Life?

Clothes

Criss, you got this.

I'm currently staring at my wardrobe. God. Oh god. Sheesh, why don't I have any decent clothes?

I flip through the stack of clothes from my wardrobe. Neon green tank top. Too flashy. Purple glitterful crop top. Too showy. White t-shirt. Too everyday and normal. Shirt after shirt after shirt. Nothing. Are you serious? Sticking my arm into the deepest part of my clothes, I grab a pink lacy shirt. 

Hmm...haven't worn it since my freshman year. Is it good enough? 

"Eww... are you seriously wearing that?"

I spin around, catching sight of my younger sister, Liz.

"When did YOU become that girly chick again?" she commented.

My face reddens. True. I have become sort of a tomboy after he left. But still, what's wrong with being girly again.

"I thought you said girliness was for him only. And he left. Left you forever. Dead to the world without even a goodbye. Oh, I get it. You want to relive your relationship again, don't you." snickers Liz.

I freeze, infuriated. "Shut your big mouth." I shriek, slamming the door in her face.

I sink on to the floor. Why does she have to bring it up every time? Max left. Max left. It's the truth. Nothing can hide that. 

I take a deep breath and stride to my bed and take the casual blue sleeveless dress that's hanging by my bedpost. This will do. It's not that beautiful, but it's something that I don't normally wear.

"Criss, why are you wearing that?" mom says as I walk down the stairs.

"Oh. Nothing." I reply.

"Aren't you just practicing for the swimming gala? No one will see you anyways, you will be wearing your swimsuit." my mom exclaims. 

I hate it when my mom does that. None of the other moms care about what their children are wearing! I mean seriously, this isn't even inappropriate. 

"Hey mom, my friend is going to pick me up later" I reply.

"A friend? Who?"

She cares too much. 

"A friend who is going to be swimming with me. Don't ask anymore, gtg."

"Who is it, Criss?"

"Her new boyfriend" LIz sneers, slinking towards us.

"He's not my boyfriend"

I spin around and hurry out of my house, with my face fiery red. Oh god. The truth is, I wish he was my boyfriend.

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