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“I have the perfect earrings for that outfit!” Lizzie rolls from the mattress before padding to the dresser. She pops open the top of her jewelry box and rummages around inside before spinning toward me with chunky white earrings in one hand and a bunch of bangles in the other.
In a matter of moments, all of the accessories are added. I take another look in the full-length mirror propped against the wall and assess the completed ensemble. I have to hand it to the girl—Lizzie has an amazing sense of style. She’s always experimenting and mixing things up. She’s not afraid to take a chance. A little pang of sadness fills me at the idea of being separated from her next year. Lizzie was accepted at the Fashion Institute of Technology in New York, and there’s no way she could turn down such an amazing opportunity. It’s her dream school.
“I was wrong about that outfit being boring,” she says, breaking into those gloomy thoughts. “You look seriously hot.”
Not wanting to get all maudlin, I push them away and assess the finished product.
Lizzie’s eyes narrow as she taps her foot against the carpeted floor. “I’ll plug in my iron to add some curls, then we’ll Aqua Net the hell out of you, and you’ll be set for the night.” She adds with a chuckle, “I can’t believe my little girl is all grown up.”
A gurgle of laughter bubbles up from my throat, banishing the last of my melancholy. “What would I have done if you hadn’t taken me under your wing?”
“Oh, that’s easy. You’d have been a major walking fashion disaster.”
Sadly, she’s not wrong. I remember the day we met with clarity. I was wearing a pair of jeans that made me look like I was waiting around for the flood to roll in. I’m not sure what Mom had been thinking when she’d sent me off to school like that.
“One glance at you and Ty won’t even remember that you have a brother named Brett.”
My heart beats into overdrive at the possibility.
“Now I need to find a sexy little something for myself.” A look of intensity settles over her features as she surveys the pile of clothing on the bed. After a few contemplative moments, she grabs the neon green tube top. “This will go perfectly with my white mini skirt.
As she disappears inside the closet, her bedroom door swings open. Mike, Lizzie’s fourteen-year-old brother, lounges against the wooden frame.
“Hey, Danielle.” His voice drops as he flashes a smile my way. “Looking bodacious.”
“Um, hi.” I squint before pointing to the crumbs on his upper lip. “You got a little something-something going on there.”
“What?” He straightens before swiping his fingers over the area. When nothing gets knocked loose, he relaxes again with a grin. “Those aren’t crumbs; I’m growing out my mustache. Pretty gnarly, huh?”
“Yeah.” My mouth trembles as I fight back the laughter. “Gnarly.”
He glances around the room before shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. “So, I was kind of wondering if I could take you out sometime. You know, maybe hit Aladdin’s Castle and play some video games. What do you say?”
“Oh.” My teeth sink into my bottom lip as I search for a gentle way to let him down. I’ve known Mike since he was in preschool. The last thing I want to do is hurt his feelings or embarrass him. “Well, I—”
My voice is abruptly cut off when Lizzie comes barreling out of her closet. “What are you doing in here, loser?” Before he has a chance to respond, she hisses, “Get out!”
“Dude, what’s your damage?” He jerks his head toward me. “Can’t you see that I’m in the middle of asking Dani out on a date?”
Lizzie’s eyes widen. “Ewww! Gag me with a spoon!” Disgust flashes across her features. “Why would she be interested in going out with a twerp who doesn’t even have pit hair?” She stabs a finger toward the door. “Get out before I tell mom you’re bothering us!”
Looking offended, Mike lifts one arm. Since he’s wearing a tank top, we’re treated to a view of his underarm. “Sure, I do—see?”
“Mom!” Lizzie pokers up to her full height like someone just rammed a two-by-four up her ass as she screeches at the top of her lungs, “Mike is showing us his armpit hair!”
“Michael Alexander Cotes, leave your sister alone!” their mom yells from somewhere on the first floor.
Mike shoots his sister a sour look before his attention returns to me. He bends the middle three fingers of his hand before bringing it to his face and mouthing—call me.
“Get out!” Lizzie shrieks before rushing toward her younger brother and shoving him into the hallway before slamming the door in his face.
With an annoyed huff, she swings around. “He is so hellacious.”
“Don’t worry about it.” I shrug. “It’s kind of cute.”
