And just like that, a new day arrived , sunlight filtered through the curtains, landing on a battlefield of clothes. Denver stood in the middle of her room, staring at the disaster she had created her wardrobe was completely emptied.
Shirts were thrown across the bed. Pants were piled on the chair. Socks were everywhere and how did they even got on the ceiling fan was a mystery she refused to question.
She held up a hoodie.
"…Too big."
She held up a pair of jeans.
"…Also too big."
She dropped them both.
"I can't go to the mall looking like a gangster."
She collapsed onto the bed, staring at the ceiling.
"What do girls even wear?"
She groaned and rolled over, accidentally knocking over a stack of old gaming shirts then the door creaked open. Dion walked past her room, still half-asleep, his black raven hair was in a messy and his black gray eyes barely open, then he glanced inside.
And he froze like he was seeing a ghost.
Denver was standing there in an oversized shirt that slipped off one shoulder, her long raven hair messy, surrounded by clothes like a dramatic fashion war scene and their eyes met. Dion's brain stopped functioning, his face turned red and he immediately looked away, pretending he saw nothing.
"…Morning," he muttered, walking away as fast as humanly possible without running.
Denver blinked.
"Why did he look like he just saw a ghost?"
Dion walked into the kitchen.
Mom was already there, drinking coffee looking tired.
"Is Denver awake?" she asked casually.
Dion nodded, still staring at the wall. "Yeah."
Mom tilted her head. "Why are you red?"
"…Hot in here," he muttered.
Suspicious, mom walked toward Denver's room.
She opened the door and witnessed the chaos her eye twitched looking at the mess her son, her daughter had created her expression plain, clearly not happy.
"Denver."
She slowly stepped into the room.
"What… are you doing?"
Denver turned, holding a shirt like it was a failed life decision.
"…I-I unfortunately don't have anything to wear."
Mom blinked.
"Care to explain?"
She sighed and dropped onto the bed dramatically.
"All my clothes are boy clothes. I can't go to the mall dressed like a walking garbage with no sense of fashion. I don't even know what girls wear. What if I buy something wrong and people judge me? What if I accidentally buy something that is not supposed to be-"
Mom grabbed her shoulders cutting her explanation mid way.
"STOP."
Denver froze, mom stared at her with shining eyes.
"Then..."
She smiled... a terrifying, overjoyed, motherly smile appeared.
"…So you need girl clothes."
"Yes," Denver said awkwardly.
Mom's hands slowly rose to her face, then she started shaking.
"…Finally."
Denver blinked. "Finally what?"
Mom laughed as if she had hit a jackpot on a lottery ticket.
"You have no idea how long I've waited for this moment."
"…Huh?" Denver clearly dumbfounded and couldn't process what her mother meant.
"I always wanted a daughter," Mom said proudly. "But I got two boys who are mentally and emotionally disabled"
"HEY!" Dion shouted from the kitchen.
Mom ignored him.
"And now," she continued, grabbing Denver's hands, "fate has given me a daughter. A REAL DAUGHTER! THIS IS DESTINY!"
Denver felt her soul leaving her body.
"This is not destiny. This is a curse." Denver said, clearly not happy about mom.
"Nonsense," Mom said, already walking toward her own room. "I kept my old clothes. I was small when I was your age. They'll fit you perfectly."
She came back carrying a box.
Then another box.
Then another box.
She dumped them on Denver's bed.
"Mom why do you still have clothes from twenty years ago." Denver asked, shocked that they were still in good condition.
"For this exact moment." mom said proudly, like a brilliant fortune teller and in the next moment.
Mom held up a blouse.
"Cute."
She held up a skirt.
"ADORABLE."
She held up a dress.
" OHH MY... OKAY THIS IS YOUR FIRST MALL OUTFIT."
Denver stared at the dress like it was a weapon.
"I can't wear that. I don't even know how to fit in that."
"You'll learn," Mom said happily. "I will teach you we will bond, we will shop and we will judge other people's fashion silently."
"…That last part don't count me in you can do it alone."
Mom ignored her, Dion peeked in from the hallway. He saw the dress and he saw Denver.
He immediately looked away.
"…Good luck," he muttered, disappearing again.
Mom clapped her hands. "Alright! it's decided we're going to the mall today."
"What do you mean we? I'm not coming, you guys can go and have some fun." Dion said, sounding burdened.
"Nope you cannot, I decide whether your coming or not and I say you are coming with us!" Mom sounding like a general commander.
"This will be troublesome."
A couple of minutes later, the door opened.
Denver stepped out of her room, wearing one of mom's old dresses. It was a simple light colored dress that reached just above her knees, but on her, it felt unbearably foreign. The fabric clung to her in ways her old clothes never did, and she resisted the urge to pull it down in embarrassment.
Dion, who had been pretending to scroll on his phone in the hallway, looked up.
And froze.
For a brief second, he just stared.
"…So," he muttered, quickly turning away and acting completely uninterested, "you're actually going out like that." But the slight redness on his ears told a very different story.
"What the…? No way this little dork is actually… blushing?" Denver thought, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.