Friday.
It was almost the weekend, and normally Jon would be elated by that fact. Now it was just a reminder that he was further away from a time when things could be considered normal. He cursed himself, and his grandfather. How could he have trusted him with something so dangerous? He had been so stupid. He couldn't believe he'd fallen for Sarah's ruse.
Friday had brought the change Jon was dreading the most: skirts. He looked at his family gathered around the breakfast table and noted today's universal outfit. An incredibly low cut, pink, spaghetti strap camisole top with some frilly ruffles along the neckline. A short, black, pleated skirt that barely came to mid-thigh, and went even shorter when they sat down. Opaque black over-the-knee socks. Black and white oxford booties with a four inch stiletto. A rhinestone studded headband, with matching bracelet and earrings. Pink lip gloss, smoky eyeshadow, and the hot pink manicure replaced by french tips.
Jon wouldn't have known any of those details if it hadn't been about the only thing his family talked about as they flitted about, getting ready for school and work. They scoffed at him as he joined them at the breakfast table. Mom, Dad, brother, and sister (though he wondered how much they still inhabited those roles) all gave him pretty much the same look, disapproving of his outfit, his hair, his skin. Everything. Jon just sat there and took it, knowing it would be a long day.
