One night.
That's all it took for August's life to turn from the girl everybody wanted to be, into the pile of shit dog owners refuse to pick up.
She had the perfect life.
Dating her best friend since childhood.
Straight A student, guaranteeing her...
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"Come on, I promise I won't laugh this time," he says, but even behind the door I can hear his faint chuckles.
We were supposed to get to the party around 7pm, but after countless outfit changes it looks like we'll be getting there closer to 9pm.
"That's what you said last time." I sign as I look at my reflection on the mirror. My hair styled in soft waves and pinned back in the front, somehow made me feel as if I was staring at my old self. The one who existed before I went away.
Looking down at my dress I could see why Ian couldn't control his laughter. Within my limited wardrobe, the only type of clothes I seem to have are dresses you would normally see on a Sunday morning on your way to church, long sleeved and below the knee.
"Here, why don't you try this?" he asks, his voice coming closer to the bathroom door.
I stick my hand out to take the fabric, but I don't even need to look at it to know the dress he picked out.
It's a lace off the shoulder dress I bought for my first date with Aiden. It's dark blue and slightly shorter than the finger tip length.
I quickly put it on, surprised at how well the dress seems to fit. I remember how loose it used to be and how self conscious it had made me, but seeing it on me again made me see how much my body has matured in the time span of one year.
It's still slightly loose against my shoulders, the fabric drooping lower than it's supposed to, but it sits tight around my waist, giving me the hour glass figure I often hide with my hoodies and t-shirts.
Still not completely convinced, I step out of the bathroom. "What do you think?"
I feel warm under his gaze, watching as his eyes linger a second too long on my somewhat exposed cleavage.
"Well," he smirks, walking towards me with agonizingly slow steps, "at least you don't look like you're going to a middle school dance anymore."
"Shut up," I roll my eyes, smacking him on his chest when he starts to get too close. "Now, help me choose a purse."
***
The euphoric bass of the music could be heard all the way from the end of the street, but it was nothing compared to the sounds that exploded your eardrums once you stepped into the house.
Glistening bodies swayed to the music, some showing more than what my eyes wanted to see with their more than explicit dance moves.
Damn, and I thought Miley had problems.
I feel Ian wrap his hand around mine, pulling me from the entrance of the house and into where all the chaos seemed to be unfolding. I grip it tighter, holding on to his bicep with my free hand, when the feeling of claustrophobia starts to kick in.
If he notices, he doesn't mention it. Instead he lets go of my hand and lets his hand linger on the small of my back. He pushes me slightly in front of him, but still tightly pressed against him. His small gesture seems to do the trick, as my pulsating heart finally goes back to its normal rhythm.
