—vii. jeans
Marceline frowns at herself in the full length mirror of the dressing room. The dark skinny jeans she’s wearing are fabulous and they make her legs look long and wonderful. Also they’re on sale. The only thing was well—
“Does my ass look okay in these jeans?” she asks, stepping out for a moment.
Prez narrows his eyes, brows furrowed. “Is—is this a trick question?” he asks hesitantly.
“It’s just that,” Marceline continues like she hadn’t heard him, “It looks a little too round. Not enough lift,” she makes a motion with her hands, “You know?”
“Aren’t you supposed to be looking for a dress for your cousin’s wedding?” he asks, looking anywhere but at her, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable. Marceline almost snorts at his pained expression.
“I will,” she says, “After I get a pair of jeans. And other stuff.”
Prez groans. “Oh my god. Your ass looks awesome, totally A+. I’d tap that. Can we go?” he asks.
Marceline beams. “Oh you! You’re just saying that,” she teases.
“Marceline.”
“Okay, I’m getting them. Just let me change,” she says,“Try not to look like you wanna stab yourself in the balls while I’m gone, ‘kay?” And then she goes back into the dressing room.
He hears her laughing and yep, he definitely regrets agreeing to go with her on this little shopping trip.
++++++
“So I was wondering,” Prez says, casually going through a selection of very lacy bras (Marceline gets ready to hit him, just in case this question is even slightly perverted), “Why’d you want me to come along with you?”
Marceline holds her pretty new dress and fabulous skinny jeans in one hand as she looks through the underwear for something that won’t show so obviously when she wears the dress.
“Well, I wanted to get your opinion on the dress.”
Prez stares at her. “Yeah, okay why?”
She bites her lip. “Because if you’re gonna be my plus one you might as well like what I’m wearing right?”
“I—wait,” he grins knowingly, “Are you asking me to be your date to your cousin’s wedding?”
She blushes. “My plus one,” she mutters and he pretends not to hear her.
“Oh, Marcy I knew you liked me!” he exclaims and flings himself on her, almost succeeding in knocking her over. A few teenage girls and their mothers stare at the two of them. Hugging in the midst of lingerie. It is definitely a sight to behold.
“Get off of me you oaf,” she says only half-heartedly because she’s too busy thinking about how he smells like vanilla and cupcakes. He complies anyway and backs up still smiling.
“Hey, so as your date my opinion is that you should definitely wear these.” He holds up a pair of neon pink underwear that have the word Foxy printed on the back of them in white script.
She snatches them out of his hand, face red as some of the teenage girls giggle and one of them whispers to her friend “They’re such a cute couple.” Marceline tries not to look too affected by it and silently tells her heart to shut the fuck up.
“Pervert,” she whisper-hisses at him and he just smiles.
“You love me anyway.”
She shoves him into the bras.
YOU ARE READING
Summer Lights and City Nights
Teen FictionIt starts when he tries to woo her in the comic book shop where she works. Because that's how you woo ALL the ladies. Obviously. And then it goes downhill from there. "You're so weird. God. Don't touch me, you probably have cooties." (cover credit t...
