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Pretending.
They didn’t leave the room, the bed. They didn’t eat. She curled up on him, held to him like she could absorb Trey into her soul. Trey sprawled out on her, playing with her curls. She was his and he was hers.
Pretend. Pretend. Pretend.
That silence, their silence, that peaceful encompassing silence was with them through the hours, with them in the pillows, the bedding, dancing across their skin.
She was his and he was hers.
And when tomorrow came and Maybelle left, she couldn’t stop pretending.
31 Team Turner
Chelsea, Maybelle, and Penny prowled through the rows upon rows of dress racks, pawing at the glittering, flowing,billowing dresses. Maybelle hadn’t realized how extravagant this whole football banquet ordeal was until she finally remembered to tell Penny she would be attending as Sam’s date earlier that Friday morning. Without a response Penny had scrambled to Maybelle’s closet, searching for what, Maybelle had no clue.
After a solid twenty minutes of frustrated huffing from Penny and each article of clothing stripped from the closet and strewn about the room Penny announced that they would be going shopping.
Maybelle didn’t understand why she would need a new dress but even Chelsea, who had arrived earlier that day, insisted with Penny a dress shopping trip was in order. So, the three of them piled into Chelsea’s car and sped straight for the mall.
Maybelle had tried on over thirty dresses now, in colors of pink, lilac, red, green and colors she didn’t know the names of, but each one Chelsea and Penny had sent Maybelle hiking her skirts up back to the dressing rooms to try on the next gown.
“Don’t stress Bells, we will find you the perfect dress for tomorrow.” Penny called from outside the dressing room while Maybelle was holding her breath, trying to squeeze into a skintight, black, strapless dress bedecked in rhinestones.
She feared that one full exhale would have each stitch in the hem snapping.
“I don’t think I’m the stressed one here, Penn.” Maybelle puffed through a strained, tightly held breath but Penny wasn’t near the dressing room anymore by the sound of it.
Maybelle could hear Penny’s voice across the store squealing with excitement, “Chelsea you angel, yes! This one is perfect!” Penny’s tittering steps approached quickly just as Maybelle finally got the black dress to fully glove her body.
She opened the door to Penny standing there with the biggest, cheesiest smile on her pale, freckled face.
“You’re hot,” Penny said giving Maybelle a quick, appreciative once over, “but take that off, this is the one.” She announced ecstatically pushing a new dress into Maybelle’s arms.
“Well grab me some scissors because I’m not getting this damn thing off without tearing it or dislocating something.” Maybelle speculated gesturing to the black fabric tightening and pulling at her curves.
Penny twirled away from Maybelle to Chelsea who was perched on a small sofa placed in the common room each dressing stall opened up to.
“All hands-on deck, Chels!” Penny hollered and Chelsea apparently didn’t need any more instruction, she was up and all three of them went to work on the dress.
“Ok, I’ll take top, you take bottom.” Penny instructed Chelsea as they stuffed themselves into the small stall, clearly oblivious to the ulterior meaning behind her comment. Maybelle gave her bestie a side long suggestive glance.
Penny scoffed, “You have been hanging out with Chad Larson way too much. Get your head out of the gutter and relax your muscles. This is going to be a tight fit!” Penny said studying the small space they had to work with.
This time, even Chelsea snickered like a preteen boy with Maybelle at the unintentional innuendo.
Penny rolled her eyes, ignoring them like the children they were, “Alright ladies, on my mark, get set— Pull!”
After a few minutes of wheezing laughter, shouts of “suck in” and a butt-load of humiliation for Maybelle, they finally peeled her free of the stupid dress.
Now, Maybelle exited the dressing stall in the most beautiful article of clothing she had ever seen, and by the look of Chelsea and Penny’s stunned, slack jawed demeanors they must have felt the same.
Penny covered her growing giddy grin with both hands, kicking her feet on the ground with excitement while Chelsea put a hand over her heart, tears lining her eyes.
Maybelle realized she must be built different because she did not understand the overwhelming emotions of it all. She could acknowledge the absolute beauty of the dress, but not enough to bring her to tears.
Maybe she just wasn’t made to love shopping as much as most women, but she strolled out, stepping in front of a large floor to ceiling mirror in the common room.
The dress was formfitting from her torso to her thighs, with string straps and a skirt that snaked the floor as she walked. The fabric was silky soft and shimmered in the light but was smooth, no rhinestones or glitter need be applied. The neckline dipped, a flattering fit to her small chest. The bodice fell open in the back reconnecting to hug her waist and follow the hourglass shape of her hips, down her legs to the floor.
