Chapter 1- Like what you see?

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(This chapter has been edited)

Chapter 1

The mall: The only thing I dreaded more than the torture of school. Not to mention it was always full of girls advertising their boob jobs and new manicures. The thought of putting myself through that torture was enough to make me shudder.

"How about this next dress?" Laura's pink manicure came from over the top of the cubicle I am stuffed in.

This is some form of torture that I don't really want to endure for much longer. Dresses were something I did not do.

Not at all.

I pull the dress from her and hold it in front of me, not exactly something I would've picked, but I guess that's why she's here. Pulling the silver number over my head, it sticks to every curve and line of my body.

Nope.

I knew why she kept handing me these, it was because I can't wear my staple combat boots with it. They were essential. Particularly because I didn't own another pair of shoes.

"Dude I can't wear my boots with this, can you find me one that I can?" I hang the dress over the top of the door, trying desperately to get more room in this small cubicle.

"Exactly Harley, that's the point, silly" I could practically hear her pouting with her oversized Botox lips and flicking her hair over her shoulder, through the door.

"I don't want to have to buy shoes as well, its bad enough you convinced me to do this!" I shout and then I hear her stomping her feet

"Damnit!" she curses, I would've laughed, but I really wasn't in the mood.

Laura had been my friend since birth, and that's why we were still friends. She had other friends of course but she had always been my best friend. Lately though she had been cursing out my favorite music and constantly picking on the clothes I wear, not to mention just acting shady in general.

When we were kids, she would be playing with Barbie's and wearing ballerina tutus, I was on the trails behind out houses, riding my push bike with the boys of the neighborhood. When we turned 10 she was styling the hair of anything she could get her hands on while I was over at the guy's houses beating their asses at Call of Duty.

Never the less we always came back together after some time apart and I'm starting to think some time apart from her will only be beneficial. If I have to live through one more detrimental comment made about me or anyone else I'll be done.

Stepping around the piles of dresses around me, I pick out my loose white singlet top and slip it back over my head, not caring the least about my hair right now; I go in search of my black jeans. To find them stuffed under a bright pink dress, which I flat out refused to try on.

I shimmy into them and go on yet another hunt to find my amazingly comfortable black combat boots, I vaguely remember putting them in the corner of the cubicle, I walk around, avoiding stepping as many dresses as possible, but we all know with this many on the floor, there were bound to be a few casualties.

I throw a heap of dresses onto the seat and pick my boots up, bracing one against the wall I slip my feet into them. Pulling my black leather jacket from the hook on the door, yet again moving more dresses onto the floor, I slide it over my arms and sigh as the comfortable feel of the material as it settles on my skin.

"Are you done yet? I want to see" Laura whines from outside the door. Distraction time.

"I think I need to try on another style, do you think you could go get me one?" I ask with a sugar sweet voice.

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