Kith never thought that her senior year of high school would be spent in a frat house, especially the frat house of her ex-best friend's, douchey, irresponsible older brother, Cameron. She'd fantasized about going to college since middle school, but...
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When six-thirty came around, Kith was already in the only skirt that still fit. Silently, she thanked whoever responsible for elastic waistbands. Searching through her stash of clothes, she grabbed a red tank top. Layering a black cardigan over it, she stared at herself in the mirror. Unsatisfied with the way her stomach stuck out, she stood at a different angle. She still looked enormous. I'm so big, she thought. And it was only month five. There were still four months to go. Was it possible to get any bigger? That was a stupid question; she knew she would get bigger. The idea that a skirt with an elastic waistband wouldn't even fit in four months was depressing. Holding back tears, she turned away from the mirror. "You dressed?" Cameron called through the door.
"Yeah," she said dejectedly.
The knob turned and he poked his head in just to make sure. Satisfied that it was safe, he walked into the center of the room and dropped his backpack on the floor. Already in jeans, he pulled open one of his drawers to look for a shirt. Removing his frat sweatshirt, he threw it on the floor and moved over to his closet. Kith unconsciously took note of his muscles. Silently debating, he grabbed a white and blue plaid shirt off the hanger and thrust his arms through the sleeves. "You ready?" he asked while racing up the lines of white buttons. Stalking quickly over to his dresser, he grabbed a can of body spray, dosed himself with it, and then reached for his brush.
"I want to do my hair," she said sadly while holding her straightener. Nice hair might improve her spirits.
"Then do it," he stared at her while brushing his own hair. When he noticed she wasn't moving, he stopped. "What?"
Shaking her head, she set it back down on the bed.
"What? Are you tired?" Tossing his brush down, he straightened his collar. She hated admitting it. Her day wasn't anything out of the ordinary. She'd gotten a good night's rest, she'd eaten properly, and she'd done her homework. Despite not doing anything spectacular or particularly taxing, she felt exceptionally heavy. Every minimal action took twice as much force and energy as it had previously. It was sad. "I got it. I'll do your hair."
"It's okay," she shook her head. She would just be the unattractive one at the table.
"No," he argued and seized control of the straightener. "You want your hair done. I'll do it." Standing opposite him, Kith gazed skeptically. She highly doubted that Cameron had any idea how to do anyone's hair besides his own. Styling his hair didn't even take effort. Half the time it was covered with a hat. Raising his eyebrows, he made his most enticing face. "Come on. Trust me. I've seen girls straighten their hair on TV."
"I just want to curl it a bit," she said plainly.
"Okay," he shrugged like it was simple. "I can do that."
"Cameron, no," sighing, she looked around for her purse. "Let's just go."
"Give me some credit," he made a face. "Just let me try. I promise I won't ruin your hair." Widening his eyes, he gave the impression that he was about to start crying if she didn't agree.
