Mark of the Moon

Chapter 7 - Autumn's Edge

Chapter 7: Autumn's Edge

  "I'm not going to wear it-it practically fits you, there is no way I'm trying to squeeze into that thing," I said, tossing the dress back at Quinn, who was pouting in effort to get me to wear it. 

  "But you bought it..." she started and I flung my hands in the air in aggravation, "No. You bought it, after stealing my credit card to buy it!"

  She held it up in the air so the bottom half fell down to knee height, "But you would look so pretty in it," she pouted again.

  "Quinn." I enunciated, "That dress is small enough to fit you, and you are so much skinnier than me, there is no way in heaven or hell that that thing will ever be able to fit on my figure,"

  She rolled her eyes, and hopped off the bed, the sound of her hitting the floor muted by the plush carpet. Quickly padding over to me she pushed the dress into my arms, careful not to bunch the hem, it wasn't one of the dresses that you saw at dances, but it was more dress than I wore, ever. "Put. It. On" she growled and pushed me into the bathroom to try it on.

  I barely had time to whirl around to protest when the bathroom door slammed in my face. "Quinn," I whined, "Please don't make me do this,"

  "You're putting it on Samantha Ann Williams," she quipped and I could hear her distinctively flop back down on the bed. With a groan, I stared in the mirror, holding the dress up in front of me. It wasn't a bad looking dress; not in the least, I mean Quinn picked it out, so it had to be good, somehow.

  It was orange, but a soft kind, not an out there "look-at-me" orange that screamed pumpkin. It looked like a sun-dress, like what one would wear during the hot summer months, flowing lightly down to about my knees, the hem a light pattern of flowers. Snorting at how girly it looked, I laid it down gently so I could strip of my clothes that I had on. I wasn't usually one to look like a girl; despite being one so evidently I had always loved to do boy-like things, and dressing like one was so much easier.

  Unzipping the back of the dress, I stepped into it, waiting as I pulled it up for the moment where it would catch on my hips and threaten to tear. But to my surprise it felt snug around them, but then tugged loose, coming higher, to the point where I could place the straps over my shoulders.

  I opened my eyes, not realizing they had been closed, and peered into the mirror. I frowned when I realized that the heat coming from the heater had fogged up the window. "Are you done?" Quinn sang from the bedroom, and I rolled my eyes again, before hesitantly taking a step outside into the room.

  Her eyes widened to the size of saucers, and an ear splitting squeal left her lips. I grimaced, as she ran towards me, jumping up and down with the energy of a toddler. "Sam, you look so pretty," she said, in a high pitch voice.

  "Can I get out of this now?" I asked bored, desperate to get out of this thing, the feeling of a breeze traveling up my thighs was foreign and I didn't enjoy the feeling. She just grinned like a maniac, "Nope," she said shaking her head frantically.

  "Why not?" I hated sounding like a little child, but I had to admit that was the only way to explain my tone of voice. She scoffed at me, picking up the skirt lightly to accent her sentence, "Because, this looks amazing on you, I'm not going to have you deny yourself one day of looking like the princess that you appear to be under all that sweatshirts and jeans."

  I scowled, but knew that there was no seeing reason with her. Glancing in the floor length mirror, I saw that the dress did have a nice touch to it. The hem ended at a decent height, so I didn't feel as if I was dressing like a slut, and the straps were at least three fingers width. Heaving a sigh, my shoulders slumped, "Fine,"