Valley of Muloor

8. Comfort Zone

The week that followed passed in a haze of heat, sticky hands from melted ice blocks and the smell of chlorine evaporating under the sun.

I found myself with my legs lazily kicking in the cool water, leaving the sounds of it lapping against the pools edge. At the sound of the roller door shutting, I glanced up at the approaching figure, my eyes squinting against the glare of the sun.

"Do you know what you're wearing tomorrow night?" Laura asked, wiping her saturated hands over her shorts.
"I don't think I'm going, to be honest." I respond, lying back on the concrete, relishing in the feeling of the sun against my face.
"Nah, no way. You're definitely coming. I'm not letting you have a choice in the matter." She sits beside me as she dips her legs into the water.
I look over at her, evidently scowling. "I don't think I would exactly be welcomed. Especially after everything that happened last week, plus who could forget lovely old Margrets little accusation. Everyone thinks I have something to do with it, and it doesn't surprise me based on my previous track record. Besides, I don't have anything to wear." I concluded, crossing my arms and turning my face back to the sun.
"Jesus, Wren. I thought you had a thicker skin than that. Since when did you start caring what people think of you?"
"Laura, I really don't think this is a go-"
"Listen, Jamison, you're better than that. Now it's your turn to prove it to everyone. Prove that you don't give a shit about what they think, instead of cowering in the corner and letting them walk all over you," she shot back, abruptly standing. "Get up, we're going to the op shop to find you something to wear." Slowly I climbed to my feet and reluctantly followed her to the front entrance to gather our belongings, a sense of dread pooling in my stomach.

-

I collapse on my bed in exhaustion. The sounds of Laura rustling through my closet fill the room as various coat hangers screech as they are pushed aside. "Just because you say you don't have anything to wear, doesn't mean you actually don't. I know you have some stuff in here from Melbourne," she mutters. I grunt in response, burying my face further into the pillows. After what felt like forever, the sound of Laura squealing in delight forced me to look up from the bed. In her arms she cradled a bright red dress I remember purchasing out of impulse. "You have to! I'm not taking no for an answer!" She breathes, a large grin spreading across her features.
"I've never worn it, I doubt it even fits me," I mutter, slowly taking the dress and letting the soft fabric draped over my arm.
"Well try it on," she cries as she impatiently shoves me into the bathroom. Apprehensively, I start peeling off my clothes.

Zipping the dress up and smoothing the soft fabric with my hands, I take in my reflection. The bright red warmth of the dress fights against the ice blue tone of my eyes, and the fabric clings to my torso like a second skin. As I turn, the bottom half flows with my movement. A second later, the bathroom door flings open and Laura stands in the doorway. Before she says anything, I cut her off. "This is so far out of my comfort zone."
"Well, I suppose it's time to step out of it," she grins. "I can't wait to see them eat their hearts out."
"You realise my uncle wouldn't even let me leave the house in this, right?" I countered, finding any excuse at this point.
"Which is exactly why you are getting ready at mine. Besides, he won't even be there, he's working with my dad up on the farm." She shrugged. Sensing I have no choice, I slump my shoulders and begin unzipping the dress. Smirking in victory, she disappears back into my room.