Within The Bonds

42: Floating Restaurant

After my conversation with dad—a term I'm still getting used to addressing him by—I head up to my room to get ready for the dinner we are supposed to attend.

'Jason mentioned that I have to dress formally, but how formal are we talking about?'

Opening the doors to my walk-in-closet, I slowly walk inside running my hands along with the numerous dresses Noah had bought for me even though I declined, calming that I'm gonna need them. Well, I guess he wasn't wrong.

Sighing when nothing seems to catch my eye, I fetch my phone from my pocket and dial Lindsey's number which I have on speed dial just for these kinds of situations.

Her number keeps ringing, but no one picks up. This is when realization draws over me and I remember that Lindsey has had her phone taken away from her for the day. Face palming myself, I try dialing she had called me by this evening, but it doesn't go through either.

Flopping down on the bean bag in my closet—I have no clue who put it there—I aimlessly stare at the dresses hug up in front of me and try to settle on one. But just any other decision I have to make, in this one too I find it almost impossible to conclude.

My default ringtone of my phone pulls me out of the stare down I was in the middle of with my dresses. I frown at the name that is displayed on my screen yet nonetheless accept the call.

"Oi, momma said you called?" I hear the familiar peppy voice of my best friend through the phone.

"Wait, I thought you are not allowed to use your phone at all today?" I ask puzzled by her words.

"Yeah that was until she saw that it was you that was calling and thought it might be important," she explains with a light scoff emphasizing the word 'important'. I roll my eyes at what she says, with an inaudible scoff of my own.

"Well, it's important though," I say and she hums in responses prompting me to go on into further details.

"So, there is this dinner I have to go to with the entire family. Jason said that it's formal, but I have no idea what to wear," I breathe out.

"Hmm, okay I'm hanging up."

"What?! Why you're supposed to be helping me!" I whine at her sudden declaration.

"I'm hanging up so that we can video call because I need to see the dresses in order to help you select one, dum-dum," she explains at a slow pace like when one talks to a child. I huff in my seat at this, mumbling an "okay," under my breath.

Momentarily after she hangs up on me, she videos calls me back and I waste no time in accepting it. By the look of the background she is in, she looks to be in her living room with Air Pod shoved into her ears.

I flip the setting from the front camera to the back and slowly show her each dress that hung in my closet. With each dress she examines, she lists out what she likes most about it and why it wasn't fit for the occasion. And with every dress she rejects, I sigh in annoyance.

'Why can't she just choose one already!'

"Stop!" I'm jerked out of my thoughts by her sudden outburst.

"Go back," she instructs and I wordlessly do as I'm told. "Okay now stop!" I halt in my path as soon as she asks me to. "Give me a better look at that burgundy color dress," she demands.

Frowning my brows, I try to locate which dress she's referring to when I spot the color she mentions. Drawing out the burgundy knee-length dress from in-between two black dresses, I examine it first and then place it on the bean bag with utmost care and gentleness, I show it to Lindsey.