lover boy & dollar store girl ♬ matt sturniolo

IV

CHAPTER IV
[ panic ]
♬

standing over her bed, where world war three was occurring between her shirts and pants and skirts and dresses, minnie was doing the one thing she'd promised herself she wouldn't do: panic.
minnie has never been one to freak over boys. famous ones, sure- she's been through the phases like everyone else. harry styles to luke hemmings to alex turner to the next unattainably attractive guy, in the natural teenage fashion. real guys were never worth the drama, and she knew it, but she's never had to be around a real guy either. she's never been asked on a date, or kissed, let alone liked. but she had a half hour before matt's hand-me-down van pulled up outside, and the girl had no idea what to wear or do with herself. and in dire times like these, there is only one thing to do.

it took a few cycles of ringing before the line clicked, but just as minnie hoped, she heard a quippy, "what's up, buttercup?"

"sam! sam, help!"

"are you getting kidnapped?" the mature voice on the other end joked.

"no, i need help with picking an outfit!"

"you? just wear what you're wearing now," sam said, and then quickly backtracked, "wait, why? for what?"

"nothing. none of your business."

"bullshit! do you have a date?"

"no, sam! shut up and help me!"

"jasmine-"

"please?"

there was a huff of annoyance, and then sam replied, "fine. is it cold out?"

"not really. it might be later."

"and where will you be wearing this outfit?"

"uh, to a house. to someone's house."

"you're such a dork.... wear that striped shirt you always wear and a black skirt or something. or jeans if it's a party- don't give anyone a reason!" sam lectured.

     "it's not a party," minnie groaned, "you don't think a skirt is too..."

     "too what?" sam's voice faltered. "minnie, is this for a guy?"

     the line might have been dead if minnie didn't swallow comically loud. "...maybe."

     "then definitely wear the skirt, little miss secret keeper!"

     "you're an asshole."

"no, you are. send me a picture of how good you look."

"whatever,"

"hey, be careful," sam sighed, "remember, you're a catch."

"thanks sam. i'll call you later."

"okie dokie."

minnie threw her phone down into the pile of clothes and huffed, wiping her freshly washed face in an attempt to decompress the stress she felt. then, she made quick work of rehanging and refolding the casualties, putting everything back in the closet except for the shirt and skirt sam picked out. the striped shirt was well-worn; it was a long sleeve that always ended up getting pushed past minnie's elbows for comfort. and the skirt was one she didn't wear often, but loved, because the pleated fit of it made her feel like she actually had some figure to her body. after finding she'd wasted too much time on the phone, the girl rushed to change into the outfit, shimmying into a pair of old black tights and sam's old combat boots that she'd been "borrowing" since freshman year. then the bathroom got its turn to be turned upside down as minnie smudged on new eyeshadow, trying to avoid looking crazy. she aimed for a shimmery grey shadow and some eyeliner, concealer to cover the handful of acne camping out around her nose and chin, and that same berry lipstick that matt liked. after twisting her hair into two pigtail braids, and then pulling them out and just settling for a sloppy half-up style because the pigtails felt too little-girlish, minnie sighed heavily with relief and trekked back to her bedroom.