She looked at her closet, dumbly. Mostly she saw jeans with torn knees, baggy t-shirts with sports logos on them, oversized sweaters, and grass-stanned jerseys. She frowned. She had been hoping to wear an actual SKIRT. She ran over to her bureau. She flung open drawer after drawer; but only came up with a couple of paint-stained tank tops, pajamas, and a few pairs of too-small cut-off shorts.
Frantic, she ran out into the hall screaming, "Lorie!!!"
A few moments later, a petite girl with hip-length black hair came running into the hall. Her make-up slathered face pouted at her.
"I need a skirt!" Skye shrieked. Lorie gave her a quizzical look.
"Since when?"
"Since I decided..." Skye took a breath to calm her self. "Since I decided I wanted to be like a normal girl."
Lorie's face lit up like a shot. "You?! Oh my..." A million thoughts zoomed through the older girl's head. She reached out a hand. "COME IN HERE!"
Uncertainly, Skye stumbled into the room. Immediately, Lorie began to scrape around her immaculate room. After a moment, she stood up, and thrust a short, gray-plaid skirt into her hands. "Put that on," she commanded.
Awkwardly, Skye slipped out of her boxers and into the skirt. A pair of hose flew at her as she finished the zipper.
"You want me to wear THESE?!" Skye exclaimed. Lorie gave her a confused look, but went back to searching. Skye pulled them on, disliking the unusual feel of nylon on her skin. She noticed how they itched only seconds after she had them on.
"Good thing you are skinny," Lorie chided, as she handed her a dark gray sweater. "You are so much taller than me, I'm surprised that anything fits."
For all her miniature features, Lorie looked like no child. In all of Lorie's clothes, whatever she lacked in height, she made up for in a figure that could stop traffic on the freeway. Skye, on the other hand, thought of herself more in the terms of a miniature giraffe, minus the long neck.
Lorie smiled when she saw the entire affair on her little sister. "Perfect. You've got the legs to pull of that skirt. Keep it! I never could wear it."
Of course, as Lorie turned to get a hairbrush, Skye rolled her eyes indifferently. Lorie looked good in EVERYTHING, and she knew it as well as the next breathing human being. Lorie turned in a moment, green eyes blazing. "Sit," she commanded, gesturing to the chair of her vanity. "All I've got to do is your hair and make-up...and some shoes! Gee, I wonder if you could wear Mom's shoes. You must get your feet from HER."
As Lorie primped her, Skye wondered if she'd ever live to see the outside of her older sister's mauve-and-ivory room.
