WESTWOOD, riley lauren

[sheila2]

-- riley lauren westwood. seventeen. junior. fashion.

Riley bit down on her lip, she hadn’t really been herself since she had gotten back to Roosevelt and she honestly didn’t care if anyone could tell or not. She was blocking out all the sound on the strip. All the kids crying, people screaming, the clicking of paparazzi cameras. She let the cool air hit her face, and she forced a smile onto it. She thought that maybe getting out of the house would make her feel better. Everyone thought they knew her, but they had no idea who she really was. Riley hated Boston right now, and couldn’t be any happier to be out of there. She didn’t want to see her step-sister, she didn’t want to hear her dad bitch and complain about how much she had eaten that day. She just wanted to be alone. She hadn’t exactly been honest about her summer, what she had done all through it. Yes, the ex-boyfriend thing really happened but there was more than just that one event. She didn’t even trust Spencer or Hannah enough, and that was hard to say since she had known them for a year or more. It wasn’t that she didn’t exactly trust them not to tell anyone, it was more she couldn’t trust that they wouldn’t react in weird or awkward ways. She didn’t really know anyone that she could turn to and say all this to. She also knew, she had to be careful around here if she didn’t want gossip girl getting hold of this juicy secret that she was now hiding away from the entire world.

Riley walked into a store, and glanced around at all the new editions of fashion on the tiny mannequins. She stared at the waist of the mannequin, and then sighed as she turned away from it. She wasn’t going to sit there and think about it. She ran her fingers over a shirt that was folded on a table next to her, and smiled fondly at it. She thought it may look better in red, since green was not one of her colors. She frowned, thinking about how bad she thought she looked in green and shook her head. She walked past the table and gazed around at all the decorations put into the store for the winter season. There were snowflakes cut perfectly hanging from the ceiling, and jackets, gloves, and hats that covered the walls. She noticed the models playing in the snow in the huge blown up pictures above the register. She smiled slightly and turned away, it was obvious she couldn’t go shopping alone. Not without someone distracting her from all the skinny mannequins and tiny models with bright smiles in the pictures. Riley made a b-line for the exit; she didn’t want to be in here wondering how bad she would look in all of these things.

She took a deep breath as she stepped into the fresh California air, immediately calming down. She let a smile pass through to her face and continued walking down the sidewalk. She didn’t really know what to do now that she couldn’t go into a store and look at a saleswoman without thinking about all the horrible things she could be saying about her. On the outside, Riley seemed to be happy. She was always smiling, and seemed to be in a good mood at pretty much every time of day. She had her friends, and was considered to be one of the better known juniors around school. She was a cheerleader, a tumbler at that. So why did she have to feel this way? She plopped down on a bench and rested her elbows on her legs. She leaned forward, resting her head in her hands. She watched the cars go by, going absolutely nowhere in a hurry. That’s what it was like in LA, hurry up and wait. She tried to think positively, reminding herself that her birthday would be coming up soon. Seventeen sounded amazing, better than sixteen at least. She let a slight smile find its way onto her face, but even she knew she was only fooling herself.

sheila. eighteen. eastern/atlantic.

( banner @ GIMME NOA!? from caution )