The Stepbrother // Luke Hemmings

It's Nice

46

It's Nice

"So," I mumbled, stepping carefully from out behind the curtain of the makeshift dressing room, "What do you think? Too much?" With nervous fingers, I whisk a loose curl back behind my ear and lift the bottom of my pink bridesmaid gown; twirling halfway around in my spot.

From where she sits perched comfortably on one of the bridal shop couches, her legs swung over one side of it and her back against the opposite, Bryana peeks her head from around the screen of her cell phone to glance at me, "Nice."

"Nice?" I repeat, almost hesitantly. I had fought and pleaded with my mom to get this dress -- this dress that wasn't bleeding hot pink glitter and frills -- for it to be, "Just nice?"

She nods halfheartedly, and I scoff; whirling around to face the mirror behind me. The dress came down to the middle of my shins and had pretty, pale pink, chiffon straps that crisscrossed almost halter like across my chest. Only for some weird reason, one that I don't exactly remember, the bra cups are almost a size too big; noticeably sinking the only actual boobs that I had. At the sight, I turn back to look at my cousin; hooking my finger into the neckline, and forcing it down with a sigh.

"Is it just me, or does this thing look absolutely kind of hideous on me?"

She blinks, "Absolutely and kind of, are two different things." Then her brown eyes look back down at her phone screen, and I watch as the corner of her mouth quirks up into a smile, "But hey, you said it."

I roll my eyes, and look over at Ashton, "What do you think?" The tall boy looked almost all legs folded into the small white couch that he occupied. His eyes were also concentrated down on his cell phone, and for a second I felt a brief jealously towards both of them before calling out to him again. He shifted positions in his seat, winced, and looked up at me before muttering, "Huh?"

"The dress, what do you think?"

His hazel eyes drew down to it and he shrugged, "I think you're asking the wrong guy."

That doesn't exactly help, Ashton."

He smiles, "Well, dresses aren't exactly my expertise, Annie."

A groan escapes from my mouth, and the curtain of our reserved area is pulled back as my mom walks in, followed by Andrew and Liv. Despite the fact that her hair is beautifully curled and shiny -- probably Liv's doing -- she's super dressed down in cutoff jean shorts and an orange novelty t-shirt with a Sunkist soda logo splayed across the front of it.

In all honesty, she looks like the last type of person who you would expect to be getting married within the next week, let alone someone who would be occupying an expensive bridal shop. Her brown eyes finally meet mine, and she pauses; blinking confusingly. Then out of nowhere, she lets out a small giggle, her teeth biting down over her bottom lip to silence it.

I frown, "Does it really look that bad on me?"

Before she can say anything back, Liv steps around her to get a look at me. With a sigh, she holds her palm up to her head, "Wow okay, Annie. We should um, get you settled first then." With that, she turns to my mom with an anxious smile, "You know what we need?"

My mom nods, and together they say, "Mimosas."

Liv flicks her blonde hair away from her face, turns to glance over her shoulder and calls out, "Can we paying customers please get some assistance over here?" Then her blue eyes look back over us and she grimaces, "Bryana, please get her out of your dress before it's ruined. "