Lips Made of Yarn

"Ashley, forget it. There is no way I'm going in there looking like this."

Ashley rolled her eyes and dragged me to Starbucks, having to grip onto my arm with both hands to get me moving. Why did I let her dress me and do my hair this morning? I'll never hear the end of this one. Oh god, my sister must enjoy embarrassing me.

"You won’t even see my outfit, I have to wear my work smock anyway. Let’s just go back to my apartment and we can change, okay?" I pleaded, trying to drag her in the opposite direction.
"You confuse me, Mel. I don’t understand why you’re all nervous, you claim to not even like the guy."
"I just don’t want to go in their looking like I should be at a nightclub."
"Maybe if you dressed more feminine, you wouldn’t have such problems getting guys."

"I do not have problems getting guys!" I cried in defense. Ashley gave me one last, pointed look before practically throwing me into Starbucks. I stumbled before standing completely straight, feeling so above and beyond stupid it made my stomach clench.

Ashley nudged my back and smiled reassuringly, making freaky hand gestures for me to move forward. I sighed and took a step, trying not to fall on the low heel I was wearing. The backdoor opened on the other side of the room, an apron-clad Brendon shuffling out. He raised his head and noticed me, stopping in his tracks and eyes growing wide.

I blushed profusely, trying to hide it with a smile. Ashley had dressed me in a grey, cotton top with a rather plunging neckline, skin tight black pants and a low heel. I had never in my life worn something so dressed up to work. Or anywhere, really.
Behind me, Ashley must have kicked open the door because a gust of wind blew past me, swirling my hair neatly around my head.
Brendon used his index finger to push his glasses back up his nose, blatantly staring.

Ashley cleared her throat behind me and I started at the unexpected noise. Some kind of animal magnetism washed over me when Brendon put his weight onto one leg, hip cocked and shirt riding up to expose the tiniest sliver of skin.
I strutted forward, swinging my hips along with the rhythm of my stride, curling the ends of my lips into a smirk.

I approached him, connecting our gazes, breathing huskily, "Hey, Bren."
Brendon’s lips separated as he blinked at me. I threw him one last smirk before slinking into the backroom.

As I walked deeper into the room, the smile slowly slid off my face. Had I really just done that? I only wanted to be his friend, why did I let Ashley convince me to wear this stuff anyway? I scowled at myself and pulled on my uniform angrily, having to flick my styled hair out of the way to button the buttons.

"Shit," I muttered when a thought dawned on me. I left my sister alone with Brendon, with nothing to distract them from conversation since we weren’t open yet. I hurried out of the room, eyes darting wildly in search for Brendon’s familiar dark brown mop.

Brendon was standing with his back to me, and I could just make out Ashley’s figure in front of him. As I approached, Ashley’s words became clearer as she talked with her hands, a scrutinizing look on her face.
"You have amazing eyes, Brendon. You know that? Melanie, doesn’t Brendon have really nice eyes?"

Ashley and Brendon both turned to me, waiting for my response as I spluttered and made a fool of myself.
"I...um, yeah?" I managed. Ashley’s glare made me wince. It was like she was trying to say what she was thinking through her eyes, that I should be flirting and not mumbling. I really don’t know where she gets these ideas from.

"Yes, Brendon, you have very pretty eyes," I said sweetly, giving Brendon a smile before narrowing my eyes at Ashley. Brendon cocked an eyebrow and moved his hand, in a gesture I sure hope meant 'Thank you'.

"So, we better get to work," I went to reach for Brendon’s wrist, thinking that I could lead him to the desk and keep Ashley off my back because technically, that was flirting, right? But Brendon swerved expertly from my grasp, so swiftly that one watching on would never notice a thing. Brendon titled his head and walked to the counter, me following surly.

Two palms fit themselves in between my shoulder blades and pushed, and before I knew what was happening I had stumbled on my heels and fallen forward, ramming into Brendon from behind. My head hit his lower back and hands clutched desperately for something to hold onto. No more than a second after my touch, Brendon financed and jumped away with lightning speed, letting me fall to the ground unceremoniously.

"Ow," Was all I could think to say as I lay flat on my stomach, my pride more hurt than anything.
"Ah, shit, don’t you know how to walk in heels?" Ashley hissed in my ear as she helped me up.
"Not when someone is pushing me from behind," I growled back and stomped to the counters.

Brendon walked slowly to his place and stood there awkwardly. I sighed sharply and regained composure. Ashley placed herself on a stool closer to Brendon’s side and I scowled at her. She was in the perfect position to slip him something embarrassing from my past, and right about now I don’t trust her so much.

'I never thought someone could fall in shoes with that small of a heel.'
I blushed as Brendon’s paper fell in front of me, folding it neatly and putting it in my pocket, Ashley craning her neck to try unsuccessfully and see what he had written.
"It’s not as easy as it looks," I said tartly and Brendon rolled his eyes.

I was beyond relieved when customers started to come in, saving me from being under Ashley’s forceful gaze for a little bit at a time.
Brendon did his part perfectly, motioning to a sign that Kranger had made and laminated that said 'Hi, I'm Brendon! How can I help you today?'.

"So Brendon, what’s your favorite number?" Ashley asked as soon as there was a lull at the counter. At least the store was buzzing with people sitting at the tables and sipping their orders.
Brendon shrugged indifferently, furrowing his eyebrows. Ashley nodded slowly, before her mouth opened to continue speaking and I really cursed the day she learned how to talk.
"Mel's favorite number is 69."

"Ashley!" I hissed, slapping my forehead. Ashley merely giggled and shrugged. Brendon’s eyebrows shot up and he looked to me, apparent humor on his face.

"It’s also her favorite posi-"
"Oh my god," I barked, interrupting her before she could possibly humiliate me anymore. Brendon’s eyes swept up and down my body, smirk forming on his lips. I felt the sudden, inexplicable urge to crawl into the fetal position and hid my burning red face.

Ashley cackled, giving me what any other person would assume to be a sisterly smile, but I knew her better than that. I knew that in her head she was coming up with countless diabolical ways to set up suggestive situations for me and Brendon.

“Ashley, can I talk to you for a second?” I motioned fiercely with my head towards the door to the backroom. Ashley played coy and jumped off the stool without a word, leaving me and Brendon alone. I glanced at him, too embarrassed to say or do anything, before I high-tailed it out of there.

“Yes, dear sister?” Ashley spoke with a southern Belle accent, twisting a strand of hair through her fingers as a malicious smirk burst onto her face.
“Do you mind not embarrassing me out there?”
“I’m just trying to help,” She huffed, pouting. “There’s obvious sexual tension.”
“Alright, so I like him a little! That doesn’t mean you can parade around and making a fool out of me. Godamnit, Ash!” I cried in exasperation.
“So you do like him!” She yelled triumphantly and I stopped, backtracking through my mind before realizing I had let that slip.

“Whatever. Just…keep it to yourself, will ya?”

Ashley grinned and sped out of the room.