by Corgan, Sky
“Not interested.”
“I'll show you.” She stands up and leaves, matching my stubbornness. Now, more than ever, I wish there were locks on the doors. Her father removed them because Ethel kept locking her door and sneaking out of the house when we were younger. Even though we're adults now, he hasn't put the locks back on. Maybe I should ask, next time I think about it. That would stop her from barging into my room all the time.
Ethel returns several minutes later holding a baby blue dress on a hanger. I turn to look at it, and I feel a heaviness in my chest. She knows I love the dress. I've told her that every time I've seen her wear it. Secretly, I've always wanted to try it on, but Ethel is a real bitch when it comes to sharing clothes. The fact that she's presenting me with it speaks volumes about how much going to this party means to her.
“You'll look stunning in it,” she emphasizes the word stunning. “You can wear these too.” She lifts up a pair of matching heels.
Crap. This is the one and only time she'll ever offer to let me try the dress on, and if I put it on, it means that I'll be obligated to go. Backing out afterward will lead straight into a fight that might blow the roof off the house, and I really don't want that.
“I don't know.” I bite my bottom lip.
She knows I'm caving, and she pushes even harder. “Look. It's long enough to be modest. Besides, it's not like we're really going to be stripping. We're just going to use the cards to get in, and then we're going to hang out and have a good time. You don't even have to socialize if you want. You can find a corner to sulk in until it's time to leave.” The corner of her lip quirks up into a smirk.
“So you weren't really planning on stripping?” I ask, hopeful.
“Girl, I'll do what I have to do. That doesn't mean you've got to though. If someone asks us to strip, you can just pretend to get sick. I'll do all the work.” She gives me a confident nod. The idea of watching her strip makes me stomach turn. I wouldn't be able to hang for that. I just know it.
I give the dress a longing look. It's cute, with a knee-length skirt, cap sleeves, and white lace embroidery on top. Nothing that a stripper would wear. I want to try it on so badly.
“Come on, Sarah. It's just one night. You can help your sister out for one night.” She lays on the puppy eyes.
“Fine,” I sigh, caving. What did I just get myself into?
She squeals, absolutely delighted. “Yes! Oh, thank you. Thank you. Thanks you. You won't regret this. We're going to have the best night ever!”
How wrong she was.
