Never Been Fixed (Demi Lovato)

Getting Ready

ROBYN'S POV

"Dems? You awake?"

"Obviously I am now," she growled grumpily, making a face. She squinted and cracked open one eye, then, upon realizing it was me, opened the other and sat up, moving right through the 'sitting' position and leaning right towards me with open arms. Oof. Okay. Hug. That works.

"Good morning," she mumbled sleepily.

"Erm...Demi?" I questioned, resting my chin on her shoulder, opposite from her, my head leaning into the crook of her neck.

"Yeah?" she said obliviously.

"It's, like, 5:30 PM," I laughed. "I dunno what they taught you, but where I'm from, that's when you usually say 'Good Afternoon!'"

"Wha...? I thought we slept through the night! Oops. Well...I was homeschooled!" She claimed defensively.

"Whatever you say." I rolled my eyes.

"Well in that case, let's go shopping! It might be little busy, filled with like the thousand other Demi Lovato fanfic orphan characters, but...I'm sure it'll be fine."

"Shopping?" I asked hesitantly. "I...I don't need anything." I did, though. The truth was, I hated crowds. I hated being surrounded by people and feeling like I couldn't run away.

Demi looked surprised, probably by the fact that I was probably the only thirteen year old in this universe who didn't jump at the chance to buy clothes with someone else's money. "Don't be silly! Look at yourself. Your clothes are half dead! If it's money that's the problem, don't worry about that, I have it covered," she winked.

"No, it's...it's not that. I'm just really tired, alright?"

"Pleeeeease?" Demi begged, pouting.

I bit my lip. Ugh. Why was she so cute?! Sure, she was like eight or nine years older than me, but...Lovatics are a perverted fanbase okay? If you want to be a popular Demi Twitter account, you've gotta be at least a little 'Lezbi for Demi' or else your account ain't going no-where! And seriously, if you can't admit that you find Demi at least a little super fucking hot, you're in denial.

"Fine. Okay. But can we only go for a little?" I knew that was a stupid question. "A little" to Demi was probably five hours.

"Yeah, yeah of course! We'll be back in like a month or so!" She giggled at her own joke as I rolled my eyes. "Just kidding! We'll be back by 8:30 PM 'cuz that's when my favorite crime show is on the ID channel!"

I swear, this girl acted like she couldn't be over 8 years old sometimes.

"C'mon!" she yelled, grabbing my hand. "You can borrow some of my clothes for now!"

She ran to a big chestnut wardrobe and threw the doors open. "It's not much, but it's something. Pick an outfit!"

My mouth dropped open. I'm pretty sure she had 90% of TopShop in there! Plus a rack of her very own Neon Lights merchandise, with all her tee-shirts, crew necks, and even the DEMI tote bag. I turned to her and raised an eyebrow, and she grinned back, oblivious. Only Demi would buy her own merch and think it was a totally normal thing to do. I turned back and dived into the mess of clothes.

I came out with my choices, and was about to pull down my ragged shorts when I realized Demi was still in the room, leaning against the wardrobe, casually checking Twitter on her iPhone. I cleared my throat, waiting for her to look up, then said cautiously, "Sooooo...where should I change?"

"Oh sorry, I didn't know you, um, I didn't know you cared, um, I'll just get out," she blushed.

I blushed back. It wasn't that I was embarrassed to change in front of her. I just didn't want her to see all my cuts, because I knew they would be triggering for her.