Novel & Cerita Mint Stained Shirt

Estella greeted me from behind the bar, “Glad you made it before the match.” “Thanks. I see just as many yellow shirts as red.” “You stand out if you don’t wear your color. We sell Slam shirts for twelve bucks if you want one.” “Absolutely. I’m not exactly blending in at the moment.” They all laughed as Estella dug out a plastic-wrapped red t-shirt from under the bar. “I’ll put it on your tab and you can go change in the bathroom if you want.” “Go change. We’ll hold your stool,” Stub said as she waved me away.

It turned out that Sabrina was behind her, and… Sabrina was dressed in business attire that day. Her style from the head to toe was minimalistic. She was wearing a pure white blazer with a cinched waist that fitted her very well. She was wearing a black camisole under the blazer, and also a pair of straight-cut pants that were pure black. Like Misty, she was also wearing a combination of black and white, and both their styles were exquisite and minimalistic. However, everyone would tell at a glance that Sabrina looked better than Misty.

And that’s just plain mean. The first shirt fits me perfectly, it's not tight or loose and it's a military green color. Appropriate, I guess. It has big black letters stitched on the chest but I don't know what they mean. Angelique stares at the garment for almost a full minute with intensity and then pulls out her phone and starts taking up-close pictures of the shirt. "Perfect, as always," she mutters to herself and then tosses me another, "Now this one."

Holding up the shirt, I smiled at how I have been wondering when I would be able to wear it. It was a black ripped sling shirt, with mid-length sleeves that went past my elbows. The sleeves had slits in many spots moving down the sleeves, as well as a few rips on the sides. Under the cotton fabric was magenta lace fabric, which covered the areas where it was ripped. The lace was longer than the shirt itself. On the front of the shirt, a laced skull had been sewn in, giving it more of a punk rock look. Looking forward to wearing it, I took off my oversized t-shirt and slipped my new shirt on.

I replied stunned. -BACK TO PRESENT TIME- Shit this mini Versace shirt dress is uber short, it’s white, gold & black and very cute. But it looks like I’m just wearing one of his buttonup shirts and it barely reaches mid-thigh to cover my goodies. And these lace crotchless undies he insisted I wear ain’t helping, ugh. He’s wearing a gold short-sleeved buttonup shirt that’s open, white tank and black cargo shorts.

I sighed resignedly, looking at the crowd of excited students in the parking lot as Martin drove into the school. “Penny for your thoughts?” He asked after killing his engine and facing me. I squeezed my face when my eyes landed, for the umpteenth time that morning, on another of his weird shirts, stifling a groan as I gazed at the Jamaican character with big glasses on and the words 'Man dem' written on it. It dared to be bright yellow. “Where do you get these things?” I let my hand hover in front of his shirt. He looked down at it, and I could tell from his facial expression that he didn't find anything wrong with it.

It's a lacey white bra and matching bra. Don't tell me he bought it. I will die in shame in front of him. I wore it quickly and wore the dress he had bought as well. It's a full sleeve white shirt with petal plates over the neck and cuffs with a cream skirt of lacework over it and it reaches below my knees. He surely loves white colour just like me. I came out changing and helped Stuti to go inside as her ankle sprained. She opens the door and I help her to go out after some time.

I said as I crossed my arms in front of my chest. "I love mint choco." He said and I stopped. "Disgusting!" I hissed and he laughed. "Why is that disgusting? It's good." "I feel like brushing my teeth when I eat that flavour." I shook my head. "Do you have a pet?" He asked. "I have a black labrador at home. How about you?" "Really? I have a labrador too!" He said and I turned to him completely surprised. "Millie.. her name." "Blue.. his name." I turned to him and looked at him straight into his eyes.

"So are you." "I'll be fine. You change first." I remembered the shopping we'd done yesterday. I'd bought Morgan a striped shirt. It was in my bag in the backseat. "I have something for you," I said, reaching back to grab the bag. "I bought this yesterday. For you." I pulled out the striped shirt. Dark blue and white. Simple but nice. Morgan looked at it. Then at me. "You bought me a shirt?" "I thought you'd look good in it."

Halfway to the door, he stopped short. The green monster had gotten the best of him. He might have laughed, but since he couldn’t seem to find the humor, he kept going. He needed a fight. Justine looked up as Mitch stormed in, and she let out an involuntary gasp of . . . awareness. Never one to give much thought to his attire, Mitch typically wore jeans. Now was no exception, she noticed, and although faded, they were clean, and emphasized his toned, sexy body. He wore a blue cotton button-down shirt, which, in an effort to adhere to the dress code, he’d even tucked in. But the sleeves had long ago been shoved up, the collar loosened.