What You're Not | ✔

04. Fashion Club

My eyes scanned the school's bulletin board. There were flyers for everything from babysitting to mathlete sign ups, but nothing for free tutoring. There was, however, a flyer for the fashion club. They were apparently meeting that day after school. Maybe I'll check it out, I thought.

"Looking for swimming lessons, mermaid?"

I rolled my eyes, not bothering to look at him. "That joke is starting to get old."

"Eh," he sighed, leaning against the bulletin board and blocking my view. "I still find it amusing."

He smiled, making me momentarily forget that boys were not a part of my master plan. A boy like Miles was part of the reason why I was in my current predicament.

"Don't you have a, like, a million friends?" I asked, growing slightly annoyed. More by the fact that his smile and those eyes were working their hypnotic magic on me. "Why do you insist on bothering me?"

He pondered this for a moment before saying, "Because you're new and you've piqued my interest."

I had to admit, that just piqued my interest. "How?"

"I don't know," he shrugged. "When we first met you were shy and timid, like any sudden movements would send you running. Now, you're not afraid to bite back." He leaned in closer to me. Too close, but I couldn't back away. "You're hiding something and I intend to find out what it is."

That sounded like a promise. One I hoped he'd fall through on.

"Good luck with that," I said. Motioning to the board I added, "Now if you'll excuse me."

"What are you looking for anyway?" he asked, stepping back to look at the bulletins.

"Not that it's any of your business, but I need a tutor," I said, finding a flyer for an after-school tutor and frowning at the price. "Preferably one that doesn't cost twenty dollars an hour."

"Well, it just so happens that I know a guy who will tutor you for free," he said.

My brow raised skeptically. "You?"

"God no," he laughed. "Cameron, the guy with the glasses and a mouth full of food from the party."

I nodded, remembering him from that night. "Is he any good?"

"Let's just say that without him half the football team would be failing all their classes," he replied. "Including me."

"Sounds like he has his plate full."

"Here," he grabbed my hand, pulling a pen from the spirals of the notebook I held. He then started to scribble something into my palm. "You can call him and set something up."

"I am literally holding a book full of paper," I said.

"Yeah, but this way we get to hold hands," he said with a smirk once he finished writing down his friends number.

Snatching my hand away from his, a smile threatened my lip as I rolled my eyes.

"Hey you two," Vivian greeted as she walked up. She looped her arm around Miles who visibly tensed up, not that she noticed. "I hope you're only bothering this poor girl to apologize for throwing her in the pool."

"I was just getting to that," he said to her. Turning me he said, "Look, I'm really sorry... that you never learned how to swim."

"Miles!" She smacked his shoulder and he laughed. "You're so rude."

"It's fine," I said, taking a step back. "It takes a big man to apologize and from the way you're always talking yourself up, I'm guessing you're really tiny."

With that I turned and walked away, but not before witnessing Vivian attempt to hide her laughter.

+ + +

When I entered the room where the fashion club meeting was being held I noticed two things. The first was that Mrs. Hawk was the supervisor of the club, which didn't come as much of a surprise. The second was that she was the only other person in the room.

"Loren Reed," she said, her face brightening up with a smile. "Welcome to Fashion Club."

"Is anyone else coming?" I asked, still hovering by the door. Just in case I decided to run.

"It's highly doubtful," she admitted. "You're the first person to show up since I started the club. I thought more people would show up since D.I.Y. fashion has been trending on the YouTube, at least that's what my niece told me."

Mrs. Hawk let out a wary laugh as she walked over to the cupboard, opening. From where I stood I could see that it was full of colorful fabrics and other things necessary to create clothing or jewelry. What really caught my eye was the shimmery golden fabric. It looked exactly like what I envisioned for the cheerleader uniforms I sketched.

Any and all hesitation I had melted away and I stepped further into the room. My need to create was a little stronger than my want to run.

"What exactly do you do in this club?"

She turned to me, seemingly shocked that I was sticking around. "Are you staying?" she asked, looking hopeful.

Glancing back at the door, I didn't feel anxious to leave. Which was a first for me. The allure of fabrics I couldn't afford myself was too captivating to pass up. So, I took a step forward, dropping my bright blue messenger bag on one of the seats.

"Yes, I'm staying."

+ + +

When I arrived home, there were a few extra cars in the drive way and parked in front of the house. That meant Mom had a few women from her support group over. Walking into the house I could hear their loud, excited chatter coming from the living room. Feeling social, I went in to greet them.

Mom and her three friends were chatting passionately about an open mic night at some bar. Before we moved, the four of them frequented a karaoke bar, singing popular eighties hits.

Mom told me a while ago that they had been approached by the owner of a lounge who was interested in hiring them as entertainment. I guess they accepted.

"Hey, Loren," Keiandra greeted, noticing me lingering in the arch way. Her bright orange lips spread into a sly grin. "You got a boyfriend, huh?"

Where the hell did that come from? There I was hoping to get the latest gossip on celebrities or something. Instead I get four women waiting for me to spill about my non-existent man.

"What?" I questioned, my cheeks going warm.

"You're embarrassing the girl, Kei," Mom said with a laugh.

"There has to be a boy. Look at her," Keiandra motioned to me. "She's coming home late, has a smile on her face and a bounce in her step. There's a boy."

It was my turn to laugh now. I'll admit that I was the happiest I've been in a while, but it wasn't because of a boy. It was due to Mrs. Hawk's club, the familiar sound of a sewing machine and feeling of a weight slowly rising from my shoulders.

"I can be happy without the help of a boy," I told her. "Boys usually have the opposite effect on me."

They laughed, agreeing with my response. Their conversation soon became about dating horror stories from their teen days.

That's when I went up to my room to start on my homework. It wasn't until I started to struggle with my math work that I remembered the number Miles gave me.

The ink was smudged, but still readable. The only question was if I actually wanted to call or not.

//
Hey! Thanks for reading!!

I'm curious to know what you think is going on between Miles and Vivian?