Page 21 of Dare You to See Me
“I was about to call the goddamn cops. You haven’t answered my texts or my call, and I’ve been knocking for five minutes.” She pushes her way past me, a garment bag in hand, and heads straight for my bedroom.
“Sorry, Ky. I fell asleep. I didn’t realize how tired I was until I sat in silence. I swear it feels like I only closed my eyes for a minute.”
I follow her into my bedroom where she tosses the garment bag on my bed and kicks off her heels. She gathers her blonde hair into a bun, and ties it off with a scrunchie that she pulls from her coat pocket.
The coat and the skirt get discarded, and she stands in just her underwear and silk blouse as she walks into my closet.
“Well then good. That means you’re rested so there will be no excuse to leave early. Now, get over here so we can figure out what you’re going to wear.” My arms hang at my sides and I drag my feet.
“Why can’t we just have a quiet night? No loud music or drunk people to contest with, Just you and I, a bottle of wine and a movie. Doesn’t that sound so nice?”
She pushes a stack of clothes hanging on the bar, and begins sorting through possible outfits. “It does sound nice…for tomorrow night. But tonight, we’re going out. I like this.” She holds out a short, gold sequin skirt that looks like it would be a better fit for Dahlia.
“Where did you get that? I don’t remember even buying that.” I shake my head, taking the skirt from her and hanging it back up.
“I think you wore it for that sixties costume party. Remember? You had on those thigh high black boots and a cute turtleneck. And you did your hair up with that bump and headband.” She shifts one hanger after the other, assessing each article of clothing.
“It should stay with the costume stuff then. How about some jeans and flats? Comfy and cute.”
“Errr. Wrong,” she says, making a loud buzzer sound. “Flats are out. You’re putting on a damn heel if I have to glue them to your feet.” She moves to where my pants hang and retrieves my favorite pair. “These. I love these.”
I take the hanger from her and walk over to my bed. I pull the pants off and lay them flat, admiring the cute white leg pants with the high waist.
“With this top. Perfectly Sunny. Classic with a touch of sexiness.” She adds an off the shoulder, red bodysuit with long sleeves to the jeans.
“I don’t have the boobs for that. I’m pretty sure you forced me to buy that.”
“And now I’m forcing you to wear it. Go change.” She uses her lawyer voice and I sag my shoulders in defeat.
I strip out of my comfy, cotton shorts and t-shirt, placing them both in the hamper and begin sliding into the very tight bodysuit.
“Where are we going anyway?” I turn to the mirror and bend slightly at the waist, sticking my hand inside and adjusting my small breasts.
“Truth and Dare. It’s a local bar so you won’t have to worry about a noisy nightclub. We’ll be able to sit and have a few drinks and actually talk without shouting.” Kyle comes walking into the closet in a black lacy bra as she zips up a pair of leather pants. “And maybe one, or both of us, will get lucky. I could use a stiff dick. I haven’t had one in a couple months.”
“Good lord, Ky. Really?” I roll my eyes and pause halfway into stepping into my jeans.
“What? It’s the truth. A stiff drink after work is one thing, but a hard dick after a tough week is even better.” She winks and reaches for a belt. “Add this. And wear those cream Loubi’s.”
I feed the gold Gucci belt through the loops and buckle it into place. “Can I at least style my hair the way I want?” I shout.
She pops her head back into the closet, now donning a midnight blue low cut blouse. “Of course…as long as it’s down and curled.”
Will I ever have a say in my own life again? Between Kyle and my parents and Dahlia, I feel like I’m just along for the ride in my story.
I guess they think I need the help since the first few chapters of my story didn’t go quite as planned.
To quote the waiter from my favorite movie, Old School,“Love. It’s a motherfucker.”
TWELVE
MALIK
“So what’s happeningwith you and the hot mom?” Danté arches a brow, the one with the ring pierced through it, and takes a pull of his beer.
I pick at the label on my now warm beer and shrug. “Nothing. She’s a student’s parent and that’s that.”
The week simultaneously went by too fast and too slow. The nights dragged on when all I wanted was another moment to lay my eyes on Soleil. And when I did finally see her, it was like watching a shooting star. She was gone just as quickly as she appeared.
