Page 139 of Falling for You

‘Why?’ I say. ‘You know I’ll hate it. Just leave me here, I’ll be fine. I’ll watch sport or something.’

‘You hate sport.’

‘I also hate going to fancy parties in fancy dress,’ I quip, pointing my bank card at him.

‘I can’t leave you by yourself on a Saturday night.’

‘I’m a big boy,’ I say, giving a fist pump as my order goes through. ‘Oh shit!’ I look up at Stevie desperately. ‘It’s not going to be here for an hour. Are you kidding me?’

Stevie rolls his eyes. ‘Look, I’ll sort your outfit. It’ll be fun. You’re not spending your second Saturday night in London sitting in this flat by yourself.’

‘Fine,’ I mutter, all defiant energy having left my body the moment my burger slipped out of my fingers and into standstill traffic.

‘Great.’ Stevie punches my arm. ‘I’ll be back later with your outfit. Enjoy your burger. We need to leave here at nine.’

I go to reply when Mom’s name flashes on my screen.

‘Wait, Stevie, Mom is calling now!’ I call after him. ‘Can’t you just …’

But my words are lost as I hear the door slam and I sigh, pushing my fingers through my damp hair and answering the call.

‘Hi Mom, how’s it going?’

CHAPTER SEVEN

Annie

I look at myself in the mirror and feel my shoulders push out with pride.

After weeks of sketching, cutting, gluing and sewing … My costume is complete, and it fits me like a glove. Something I pride myself on is to never make a costume that you can’t sit down in. We all know the type. It looks amazing when you’re stood up and strapped in so tightly that even a rogue cough could pop your left breast out. Heaven forbid you try sittingdown. Well, say goodbye to your internal organs as they spill out of your mouth in protest at having nowhere else to go. Or, worse, pop out of your bumhole in an angry prolapse.

Hmmm … which would be the worst to happen at a party?

That’s a pretty good ‘would you rather’ question. Maybe I’ll save that for the next time I’m on a date.

Anyway, wearing one of my costumes will not have you flirting with a trip to hospital or sacrificing something important like a kidney. They’re all made from thick, stretchy fabric. It doesn’t stick to your skin and highlight every dipand curve; it skims over your body like a comfy yet fabulous hug. I mean, this all started because I was making clothes for myself, and who wouldn’t want that?

My bat costume has a black, slightly furry bodysuit that dips into a sweetheart neckline around my chest. Over the bodysuit I’ll be wearing flared trousers made from lace with gems and diamantés glistening through the fabric. The best part is the cape, which billows behind me in a heavy velvet fabric and then when I pull the little lever … out pops an incredible set of wings.

My hair will be loose and my mouth (although painted red with lipstick) will trail small specks of blood down my chin. I did toy with the idea of getting grotesque fangs to complete the look, but I decided against it. I didn’t want to not be able to talk to anyone. Or, worse, sing a bit too intensely and accidentally spit them out and lose them in the myriad of legs on the dance floor.

Although that would be pretty terrifying. Imagine a pair of teeth landing in your drink?

My outfit is almost the exact same as the sketch I drew in the summer. I mean, I had longer legs and much better eyebrows in that sketch, but hey, you can’t have it all.

‘Okay!’ I call, coming out of my room. ‘What do you think?’

I jump into the living room, holding my arms stretched wide in a ‘tah dah!’ motion. Penny and Tanya are both sitting on the sofa, craning over Penny’s phone. When they see me, they look up and gasp.

‘Wow!’ Tanya gushes. ‘Annie, it’s incredible. Did you really make all of that?’

I nod. ‘Yup.’

‘Give us a twirl,’ Penny says, clambering to her feet. ‘I want to see it all.’

I hold my arms in the air like a ballerina and twirl on the spot as Tanya claps her hands together.

‘I think it’s the best one you’ve made,’ she says. ‘Honestly, those trousers aresublime.’