PIPER
"Another one." Timofey flicks his hand lazily at me like he's scrolling through a slideshow instead of gesturing at a human being.
I groan. "This dress is fine! It's…it's…"
I glance down at the disco-ball-like gown ballooning around me and try to drum up something positive to say. Truth is, though, I hate it. It's showy and gaudy and makes me feel like a princess in all the worst ways. But I'm so tired of trying on dresses.
"Preposterous," Timofey finishes. "Next."
"If you want to catch attention, this is the way to go," I say. "I think it's unique."
"It's terrible. Take it off."
I spin around and face him. "You've had a problem with every single dress so far."
"That's why we're trying them on. To get the right one." He snaps his fingers. "Put on the next one, Piper."
Usually, I'd jump at him for snapping his fingers at me, but I already tried that. The first time he snapped, I told him I wasn't a dog.
He replied he'd chain me up like one if I couldn't behave.
