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I scoff. “That’s a little rude.”
She looks at me and her eyes light up just before she starts clapping. An idea clearly already forming in her head.
“Nope. No. Don’t even think about it,” I say, hands up, backing away from the closet.
“Please, Charlie. Just this once let me pick your outfit.” She looks at me with puppy dog eyes.
My shoulders slump and I feel my knees hit the side of her bed before I plop down on the mattress. After what Cole said downstairs, I feel a little guilty.
“Fine.” I sigh.
“This is going to be so much fun!” She claps, jumping up and down.
“I feel like I’m going to regret this. I’m already regretting it.”
“Live a little, Char. You’re going to look amazing.”
After much protesting, locking myself in the bathroom twice, and an hour of pure torture later, I’m standing in front of Cam’s mirror, shaking my head. While I’m pretty popular around school, and not just for my supposed hookups with the baseball team, I do try to make myself blend in with the crowd. Cam says that’s hard to do when you’re as gorgeous as I am. I’ll take her word for it.
This outfit is not blending in.
“You look fucking hot,” she says, hands on my shoulders, grinning at me through the mirror.
“I look like a hooker,” I say flatly.
“Now that’s just rude. I wore this outfit last month.”
“And you looked like a hooker,” I say flatly, making her stick her tongue out in my direction.
I glance down at myself. Cam has me in a white crop top shirt that dips low in the front. She paired it with a white skirt that barely grazes my thighs. The white looks amazing on my tan skin, so I’ll give her that, but this is definitely not something I’d pick for myself. My long, dark hair is falling down in waves over my shoulders. She relented and let me keep my makeup natural.
“You look good, Charlie. Don’t get in your head.”
“Don’t you think it’s a little much for a high school party?” I ask her flatly.
“It’s never too much to look good at a party, Charlie,” she replies, rolling her eyes.
I glance over my shoulder at my best friend. She’s wearing a black bodysuit––which I’m almost positive is lingerie––that she’s paired with a gray skirt and combat boots. I wish I had the confidence she has.
One peek inside Charlotte Rose’s head will tell you that I’m a mess. The Charlotte on the outside doesn’t match the one on the inside, and that’s a secret I’ll never tell.
“Let’s go make these boys drool,” she says, joining me in front of the mirror, snapping a picture of the two of us before grabbing my hand and pulling me from the room.
“Where do you think you’re going dressed like that?” Cole asks from the kitchen, right before we make it to the door.
“Excuse me?” Cam says, shooting him a dirty look.
“You can’t be serious about leaving the house like that, Cam.” He gestures towards her outfit.
I try to hide myself behind her, wondering where his plaything went.
“You are not my father,” she says, putting her hand on her hip.
“Thank fuck for that,” he says, tossing his cup into the sink.
Cam huffs, letting go of my arm and stomping towards the door. I glance over at her and then back to Cole.
“Who knew the princess was so dirty underneath all those clothes?” He smirks, leaning against the doorframe, looking me up and down.
