Oliver shuffled uncomfortably in her seat. She sat next to the amber haired upon the light up dais trying unsuccessfully to not be aware of every passing second. She twiddled her thumbs upon her lap and squinted into the darkness of the onlooking chairs.
She could faintly make out Adrienne sitting in the third row. More and more people were showing up now, but she’d imprinted Adrienne’s spot and was sure that the silhouette merged with the darkness was hers.
She let out a huff of annoyance. She wished she had her phone. She would never understand what the fashion industry had against pockets for girls clothing. Even the small satchel she had on her belt was mostly for show, a flimsy cardboard creation of her own painted to match and attached to her blue belt. She’d barely space for her school ID and driver’s license in it, but it was the best she could do unless she wanted to hit her mom up for a