French Kiss (Skam - Chris Schistad x OC)

Rule N°9

Rule number nine: Actions speaks louder than words.

"Girl, you're not going out dressed like this," Shansa yelled from across the apartment, pointing at Helen who looked like a deer caught in headlights.

The ginger girl jumped to her feet and dashed towards her roommate before she could escape, then dragged her back to her room by the arm. As confused as can be, Helen let herself being led away from the front door and stumbled back to where she came from.

"What is this?" Shansa asked – rhetorically of course – as she gestured to Helen's overall appearance. "God gave you a rocking body and this outfit is an insult to all of us who haven't been so lucky," she began her scolding, not giving Helen a chance to protest. Not that she was going to, she knew better than to try and argue with Shansa.

"Okay, what is wrong with my outfit?" Helen asked amusingly and with patience as her friend rummaged through her closet like crazy.

"Everything, girl. There's nothing to save, expect maybe your dignity thanks to me – you're lucky I stopped you from going out that door. Repeat after me: I will not, ever, go to a date in jeans," Shansa articulated slowly and expectantly waited for Helen to say the words.

"I will never wear jeans to a date," she said to please her. "But Chris hasn't told me where we're going so I don't know how to dress."

If Shansa's scowl was any indication, this was not a convincing argument. Clearly Helen would have to do better if she wanted to leave the apartment wearing jeans ever again.

"Sweetie, you look hotter than that when you go to work," she replied. "Don't forget he already saw you there, so you can't go out dressed down."

"C'mon, it's just Chris," Helen wailed dramatically before standing up and trying to stop Shansa from thrashing her wardrobe. "He won't mind."

"I can't tell if you're saying this because you're genuinely that naive or if you're a hundred percent sure he's going to follow you around like a puppy no matter what garbage bag you wear," Shansa said with a click of the tongue. She shoved a ball of clothes in Helen's hand and said," try these on for me without complaining and I'll let you wear flats."

With a pout and rather reluctantly, Helen agreed with an inarticulate groan and executed herself. As soon as the jeans were off, Shansa grabbed them with the tip of her fingers and threw them back in the closet. It took a couple outfit changes for Shansa to be happy.

"Good, because you made me late!" Helen grumbled, rushing from left to right to pick up her boots, bag, and coat.

"You'll thank me when you get some tonight, just make sure it happens at his place because I have an assignment to finish and I'm not seeing the end of it."

"I hate you!" Helen shouted as she slammed the front door shut, already running upstairs.

"She so loves me," Shansa whispered to herself, hands firm on her hips and surrounding by Helen's entire wardrobe scattering the floor. "I have to clean up the mess now, don't I?"

*

Looking back on it, the outfit issue really was the least of her priorities because it was already dark outside. The flats were necessary though.

"I might be shooting myself in the foot by saying this but I'm glad you were late because I was too," Chris told her the moment they left their building and started their walk through the lively streets.

"Was it your best friend forcing you to try on different outfits that made you late?" Helen scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Shansa held me hostage until she gave me her green light."