Within The Bonds

72: You're Bossy

Once Lindsey got my call regarding the party it takes her less than ten minutes to appear on my front porch with two bags filled with God only know what and a mischievous smile constantly curving her lips.

"What are you up to?" I question her as soon as I shut my room door, securing our privacy. My arms automatically cross themselves across my chest while quirking a single brow upwards.

"Why would you think that?" She asks with an innocent look—but she's anything but that!

"You have that look on your face," I accuse pointing my index finger and motioning at her face.

"What look?" She replies feigning cluelessness earning an eye roll from me.

"That look," I thrust my finger outwards circling it in the air around her smug face. "The look that screams, I'm-up-to-no-fricking-good!" I add.

"Fricking-good, really?" She gives me a blank look as though disappointed in my vocabulary.

"Yes, fricking. Now tell me what you're up to before the party starts, I'm in no mood for surprises today," I demand, dismissing her attempts at changing the topic.

"Well, it is a senior party, so that I can't guaranty," she admits, raising her hands up in mock surrender.

"Linds," I warn, channeling a hint of the 'Xavier's tone' in my voice.

"It's nothing really," she tries to convince me, 'try' being the operative word.

"Okay, just a cute outfit I want you to wear today," she confesses, grabbing one of the bags she brought with her.

"Define 'cute'," I assert, my arms stilled crossed with my eyes narrowed at the bag in her hand.

"Well, it's not a dress," she drags out still unwilling to disclose the content of the bag.

"And I just mastered the smoky eyeshadow and I want to try it on you," she breaths out in a single breath.

"Let me see it first," I negotiate, while she gives me her infamous puppy-dog-eyes. She nods her head enthusiastically—while I'm afraid that it might just detach itself from her body and roll on the ground at the speed at which she's nodding!

"But you have to promise me that you won't say no without trying it out," she adds in negotiation, forcing me to take a moment to muse.

Finally nodding in agreement with her term, her smile only widens as she pulls out what appears to be a black set of clothes from the bag. 'So far, so good'

"Nope, not happening," I declare as I visually scan the now unfolded top, she holds out in her hands

"Why not?" She whines.

"I don't really like halter top, Linds," I reply admiring the matt black halter top in her hand. The design of the garment is fairly plain with no sparkles or cutouts or even any imprinted design on it.

"Come on! You'll look great in it!" She encourages. "And it will go perfectly with the theme of the party," She put up a convincing argument predicting my response in advance.

"Nathan invited you to the party before I did, didn't he?" I question even though I already know the answer by the look of guilt that flashes in her eyes.

"Why would you think that?" She mumbles trying to avoid the confrontation.

"If you weren't invited, how did you know about the party being a theme party?" I question with narrowed eyes.

"It's a Santos brothers' party, their parties always themed," she advocates.

"Hum, and are all their parties specifically black-themed, you know like the one today?" I scrutinize.