Novel & Cerita Stiles Stilinski Shirts

“He usually drinks the most expensive one here—Tequila Ley .925. Sometimes Jack Daniel’s. Sometimes Johnnie Walker.” He probably hasn’t noticed me. “What do you think is happening in our section? Why are they looking at us? This is new,” Ashley said. “Let them stare,” I said lightly. “It’s just looks.” But hiding felt pointless. He was wearing a fitted black T-shirt with “get up, lazy” printed in bold white letters on the corner of his chest, paired with black pants. Maybe this is how he relaxes. I quickly averted my gaze when he looked in my direction.

I end up buying several cute keychains and a pink octopus plushie. We head to the next stall where they sell shirts with bold prints of the Tropical Thunder Circuit. Some designs show a racer mid-turn which I swear looks like Reed with its red and black color palette. Others have the race logo across the chest with tropical flowers wrapped around it. Evelyn holds up a shirt against me and squints like a stylist. I laugh and shove it back onto the rack. I can’t resist buying the black and red shirt before we move to the next stall.

"Third one’s in the box behind you." Noah twisted around, retrieved the larger box, and tugged the ribbon loose. Inside was a folded stack of designer athleisure. Joggers, a zip-up hoodie, and a sleeveless tee, all tailored to his exact frame, clearly custom. The fabric was ridiculously soft, expensive, and on the inside hem of the hoodie, just above the tag, were Sterling’s initials. Sterling gave a faint smile. "I like you dressed in things that fit. Or nothing at all. But this seemed more practical."

I countered, but bit my lips in a thin line to prevent my smile from growing, watching her playfully. Stacy just giggled before showing me her back and disappearing behind the door with the Staff only sign. She was crazy attractive with her big perky boobs, and she wasn’t even wearing a bra. Her usual way of dressing was like a metal band singer. Black was her color, only her tight shirts were in a different shade.

Then the door opened and Miss Stacey entered. "Okay, everyone! Another project, another accomplishment on our team. Dionysus' concept was fresh, happy, and had summer vibes. You know the drill guys. They'll be here in 2 minutes so you'll have what you need, okay? I'll be back here to check what you did," then he went out again. While I had nothing to fix, I approached the dresser. I will choose what to wear with Ethan. I chose plain white muscle sleeves and a yellow beach polo. Then a pair of white denim shorts. I also got anklets and bracelets. I didn't get a necklace anymore. The beach hat and sunglasses.

I called them Tala t-shirts because she had them made, usually skulls and blood or decapitated bodies and they were one of a kind. I walked downstairs and Jules stood waiting for me and Mrs. Walker looked at my t-shirt and I knew she was probably thinking something along the lines of “goodness gracious me.” Jules looked stunning in skintight jeans with a shirt that ended where her jeans started with knee high boots and when she walked you’d catch a glimpse of skin and somehow that was more attractive than showing everything.

Is it often passerbys would come in lacking foot coverage? “No shirt. No service.” She nodded at the back wall where there was a handful of shirts hanging on a rusted old Z rack. He found one men’s large it was the only one that wasn’t pink. The shirt was black and had the shape of North Carolina on it and it read Come on and Raise up. Well then. This is it I guess. He turned to the clerk grinned and put the shirt on. It was a tad snug on his biceps and he felt ridiculous. He looked in the reflection of the drink cooler and he looked like something from a wrestling poster.

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.

“WHERE ARE MY CLOTHES?!” “Whatever do you mean, brother? How would I know? Aren’t those shirts right there?” She said, pointing at the open luggage and feigning innocence. The shirts are in neon colors: pink, green, orange, and yellow. Jude picks up one of the shirts, and the logo reads, ‘GIRLS WANNA HAVE FUN!’ Then he picks up another one, and it has a teddy bear riding a unicorn. Not to mention, they all look a size too small.

I answered trying to avoid their gaze. Stacy moved from the bed and grabbed the shirt on the bed, she stared at it and then moved her gaze back to me. “this is a whole different shirt entirely and Lydia, did you remember the former was white, and now this is black.” Fuck I curse inwardly I shouldn’t have brought that to their notice. “And the last time, we met him, he was wearing a blue shirt not black.” This is always the nosy Stacy, that takes notes of every little thing. “Stop talking nonsense and get off my way.” I pushed her playfully. “So what were you about to tell…”