Chapter9

#Chapter9

I jump up and down as I pull on my black jeans, the bleached wood groaning beneath me. I swipe a shirt from my bag and slip it on, looking down to see the words 'Moon Swoon' across my chest in a flower-child font. It looks vintage but it's not, and the end reaches the button of my jeans which annoys me. I used to think such shirts were flirty because when I'd reach up, the shirt would expose my midriff. Nothing says sexy like a pale, starved stomach.

The sounds of my family preparing to leave put me back on track, so I pull on socks and shove my feet into a pair of dirtied white shoes. The laces used to be white, and now they're a dull grey. My mother asks me to wash them, but her idea of washing shoes is shoving them in the washer and dryer. I've let her ruin too many by now, so these will stay forever dirty unless I become excited enough to scrub them, which is unlikely. Having white shoes is the least important thing on my mind these days.