I always wear baggy shirts these days. I am too ashamed to show off my body after what he... No. No thinking about him now. This is Chloé’s big night. I don’t want to ruin it.
Chloé’s blue eyes widen. “Ooh, good idea. Why didn’t I think of that?”
Marc grabs her chin, scrunching up her adorable face. “Well, that’s why you have me, Lo Lo.”
Lo Lo is his own personal creation.
He continues his search through Chloé’s dresses, and they’re wasting their time. Nothing in that closest will fit me. Chloé is a size two. I am a six.
It takes Marc some time to find something that will even remotely suit me, let alone fit me. Most of Chloé’s dresses are too sparkly and pink for my tastes.
We really are like a meme. I’m the dark, depressing sister while she’s the bright and sweet one.
“Found the dress!” Marc shouts from the back of the closet.
Chloé rushes to his side, and a loud gasp spills from her lips. “I totally forgot about that dress! Ney Ney, it will look perfect on you.”
I cringe. I doubt anything in that closet will look good on me. At the most, I will just stick out like a sore thumb.
“Well, are you going to come in and have a look?” she says.
I roll my head on my shoulders, damning whatever deity may hear my silent prayers. Then I step into the closet. It could be a room in its own right.
Nugget, Chloe’s French bulldog, wags his stumpy tail when I pass inside. He’s been sleeping in his basket and has only just woken. He likes me, because I always feed him treats when Chloé isn’t looking.
Finally, I arrive at the end of the closet. Marc holds out the dress for my perusal, and I shake my head. That dress had belonged to Mom. No wonder Chloé forgot about its existence. It’s been in her closet for six years.
There’s only one person it ever looked good on, and she is no longer with us.
“No. I can’t.”
Marc and Chloé blink in confusion. “But why?” Chloé asks.
“It’s too tight.” That’s a lie. I just don’t want to wear Mom’s dress. It wouldn’t feel right.
It belongs to her...
Belonged.
Marc exhales. “That’s kind of the point, Ney Ney.”
I try to think of a way out of this. Honestly, the dress is perfect. Mom had a great fashion sense, and the body to go with it.
I will just feel as if I’m on display. I hate people looking at me.
“No. It will make me look...”
Chloé places her hand to my lips, stopping me before the dreaded word leaves my mouth. I am not the F word. Not one bit. I’m hour- glass, as Marc described me.
It’s just that past experiences have made me ashamed of my hips.
“You’re nothing at all like your skinny sister...”
I push the memory away and try to get out of going tonight. “But I have to get up early. I’m working at the shelter again.”
Chloé huffs. “Well, you’re taking the day off, okay? I’m sure the shelter will understand.”
“But who will look after the puppies when I’m gone?”