"What do you think, Feliza?"
I turned to Feliza after I stared at my reflection on the mirror. I'm wearing a bluish pencil dress, and this is the fifth time that Feliza made me try a dress on. She dislikes the dresses that I wore earlier. And she said that those won't fit in any party.
"Nice, but I don't like it."
I sighed as I lazily eyed her. It's almost 8 in the evening, yet Feliza is still making me try these dresses on. If I'm not mistaken, she might even have a plan in the back of her mind to show me every dress that her closet contains.
"But I do like it. It looks formal and at the same time, it fits for a party." I made sure that I gave enough emphasis on the word 'fits' for her to recognize.
Instead of Feliza saying something, which I was hoping for, she stands up and picks a
