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Chapter 17: Drunken confession

The sun had just set when Melissa decided to literally fetch me from my room to drag me down to the garden get-together. But the moment her eyes landed on my messy hair and my clothes− more suited for a daily dose of indoor writing than a fun outdoor occasion− she frowned and shook her head.

“You’re not going looking like that.”

I sighed and shrugged. “You’ve all seen me like this already. No one complained.”

“Well, I’m complaining now! Let’s get you dressed, brushed and pretty.”

I mouthed her words mockingly but didn’t protest any further. She rummaged through my closet and found a newish pair of blue jeans and an off-the-shoulder white blouse. Once I’d gotten myself into my clothes she got to work, brushing out my long, black hair and then tying it up and smoothing the front down.

When she was done, she smiled and nodded to herself, proud that she’d made me look more presentable than I had before.

When we made it to the gardens outside, I was surprised to find that it was decorated
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