White lace dress with long sleeves looks elegantly cute, but this black open-back cocktail with a heart-shaped neckline is an attention-grabber. What should I wear? I argue with myself.
It’s kind of hard to decide when all I can think about is how to tweet my dream.
Yeah, it's useless. But then again, we all have our bad habits.
I bit my lower lip and started pacing back and forth a million times and then I stopped as I heard a knock on my door.
“Ma’am, Ms. Taylor’s here.” one of our maids calls out.
Yes, finally! The only friend I can count on.
“Let her in.” I replied.
Taylor walks in wearing a gold formal sheath dress that rests on her mid-thigh.
She looks gorgeous as always. With that hourglass body, light brown skin, full lips, defined cheek bones, hazel cat-like eyes, and a really, really, really curly dark long hair that suits her, every guy would fall to their knees begging for her attention. As much as I adore myself, I still think Taylor’s the hottest chic on earth and I’m just so proud to be her best friend.
The feeling is mutual.
“Hey Savy baby, you ready for the party?” Taylor asks.
“I couldn’t make up my mind, which dress should I wear?” I answer holding up two different dresses.
Taylor stands for a while, analyzing the two garments I was holding and points at the white lace dress.
“You would look like you’re attending a wedding with that.” She says bluntly. Then she grabs the other one but only to toss it aside. I was caught off guard, and I was just about to protest when she interjects, “Shush!”
“But Taaaaaay.” I whine
“No. Babe, with that black dress,” she points out, “you’ll just steal my spotlight. I forbid you to do that.”
I shake my head. This is why Taylor and I are friends.
No, not because we’re both hot.
It’s because she never tries to hide her true character, and her true intentions. I love her for that and I trust her opinion, so we both rummage through my wardrobe.
“How about this?” she asks.
I peek at what she’s holding and find myself staring at a red dress. It was not just some red dress though, it was the red dress. I never wore it because it was my mother’s. I still haven’t forgiven her for leaving me and my dad. Honestly, I don’t even remember why I still kept that dress.
“No.” I say sternly.
“But it has a matching purse!” she pouts. “And by the way it’s fab. I like it.”
“You can have it.” I say rolling my eyes.
She cheers at this and flashed a toothy grin while opening the glittery red purse. Oh, and me? I could already feel my sarcastic nature slipping out from wherever I hid it.
“Hey Tay,” I smile, “I’m just fine being ignored. It’s not like I’m doing something tiring really. I mean, searching for one perfect dress out of probably like a gazillion more is not tiring. Thanks for your help anyway. It’s just great to know that I have someone who I could depend on in times of deep need. Yup, your concern is just great.”
I’m probably over reacting right now, but it’s understandable. This searching can get really difficult and frustrating. It’s hard to pick a dress with this immeasurable amount of clothes. It’s like a jungle in here and I feel like Indiana Jones on an adventure.
YOU ARE READING
Love in Distress
Teen Fiction-SAVANNAH- Search rich kid, and you'd find me. Of course you would. I had the closet that could fit the whole town, the room that'll be enough to throw an awesome party, the house that all those billionaires still are jealous of, and the life everyb...
