Short stories from images |
“It’s pink,” Joey stated in a mutinous tone of voice. “Yes, it is,” replied her mother in what she hoped was a calm tone of voice. “Pink’s a girl’s colour.” Her mother sighed. “Yes, it is and you’re a girl.” “But I’m not that sort of girl.” Joey folded her arms across her chest and stared at her mother. “And what sort of girl wears pink?” she asked, dreading the answer. It seemed that the older Joey got the more frequently they had these sort of conversations. “One who wears frilly socks to go with their frilly dresses and their frilly hair!” came the quick retort. The sigh slipped silently from her as she slowly counted to ten in her head whilst alternately cursing her husband and their hectic lifestyle for having made their only daughter a staunch tomboy. Joey, she never answered to Josephine, was definitely not a girly-girl. Her brown hair was cut in a neat but practical bob that framed her often serious face. Jeans and t-shirts were her normal wardrobe without a skirt or dress in sight. She was the youngest of four children born to a famous footballer and a former junior Olympic swimmer. Evenings and weekends were spent going to football practices, matches and other sporting events that the boys took part in. Her mother tried to get her involved in activities that other girls took part in but she soon lost interest in them, preferring the rough, tumble world that her brothers and father enjoyed. “Well, this isn’t a frilly dress and you won’t be wearing frilly socks,” her mother countered as she looked the dress over before returning her attention to her daughter. “But it’s still pink!” “And you will still wear it for your brother’s party and that’s final.” Her mother passed the dress to her daughter before heading off down the hallway to see how the rest of the family were getting ready. Sometimes, it was better to cut and run rather than staying put to fight some more. The family party that evening was for the eldest son’s 18th birthday. It was a loud and noisy affair down at the local sports club. All of the football teams that the boys and Joey were involved in had been invited as well as a few of his father’s football friends. Joey, still angry with her mother for making her wear the pink dress, stood in the corner of the hall ignoring everyone whilst she watched the packed disco. That is until Warren, a friend of her youngest brother and star football player on their team, came over to talk to her. “Wow, Joey, you look gorgeous in that dress. Really pretty.” He smiled tentatively at her, wondering whether or not she would give him a black eye for his compliment. “Do I?” Joey asked shyly, her cheeks pinkening slightly in embarrassment. “Yeah, wanna dance?” Warren offered his hand to her, his eyes showing his appreciation of her. Joey nodded and placed her hand in his. Together they headed out onto the crowded dance floor, oblivious of the stares that were sent in their direction. Suddenly, the pink dress didn’t seem too bad. Especially if the boy you’d had a secret crush on for months thought you were pretty and wanted to dance with you! |