Tantrum [girlxgirlxgirl] | hiatus

so, very, cute.

TW!: body image issues, anxiety.

🌸

"I'm going to Tollhouse for cookies, and I'm taking Kani with me," Nana started sternly, her intense eyes zeroing in on my bemused expression, "so here's some money. And you better send me pictures of the outfits you put together. You're gonna be the best dressed at that party, yeah?"

I stretched my lips, and stuffed the money in my pocket, knowing if I refused, she'd cause a scene, and that was the last thing I needed today. "Thanks, Nana." I said stiffly.

Her stern stare melted into a fond one, she smiled, cupping my cheek with her icy, smooth hand.

I stared at the line of stores, each illuminated by white logos and staffed with ornery teenaged employees. Sidney said the party was more on the casual side, but that partygoers ended up being a little dressy, so I shuffled into American Eagle and looked in the tops. I had a decent pair of distressed jeans that I could dress up with a blouse, or a nicer top; if I could find one.

A nice employee around my age asked if I wanted help; I declined as politely as I could despite the frustration seeping into my clenched teeth and curled fists, and continued to helplessly gaze at the wall of blouses.

She giggled, "Are you sure?"

I sighed, resigning. "Okay, fine."

The employee giddily clapped her hands. "Yay! I'm Emma."

I messed with the hem of my jacket. "Leilani."

"So, you're looking for a nice top? Can I ask what the occasion is?"

I rubbed my neck sheepishly. "It's, um, well, for a party. I'm not a party person."

Her smile was ten miles wide. "That's fine! But if that's the case, then this isn't the section for you. Oh, there's this really cute v-neck t-shirt dress; it's a new arrival!"

Her hand closed in around my wrist, but I somehow didn't feel urged to raise my guard and snatch it back from her, I absentmindedly stumbled behind her.

"You look like a medium." She said, glancing at me, and then back to the rack of actually not terrible dresses.

"I'm a large." I told her with flushed cheeks. A medium? I couldn't remember the last time I measured that small.

Emma gave me a look of utter disbelief, then wiped away the expression. "You're kidding! You should totally try both sizes on. Oh my gosh, you're gonna look so cute in this!"

I obliged, teetering into the dressing room she directed me to whilst balancing the hangers on my arm. When I hung them on an unoccupied hook, I found they'd left imprints.

I peeled my t-shirt and leggings off and studied at myself in the mirror panel that hit the floor and brushed the ceiling. Whenever I gazed at my reflection too long, I couldn't tell who I was looking at. For as long as I could remember, I'd felt a strong disconnection from my face, my body, and who I knew I was inwardly--or at least who I thought I was. There was something so unrecognizable, or maybe, not worth remembering, about my face.

I ran a hand through my hair and slipped the medium on first, and to my astonishment, I found it fit me comfortably. It probably had a lot to do with the fact that the style had meant for it to be baggy, but I liked the way it fell to the middle of my thighs and flared all around.

"Hey, are you done? I wanna see!" Emma called excitedly.

"One sec." I replied, eyes still trained on the glass. I cracked my knuckles noisily as uncertainty crept in, but before I could psych myself out, I swung the door open with artificial confidence I knew I'd never really attain.