Do Not Pinch Me
"I'm definitely not Irish! Open your damn eyes!" Felicia Andrews snapped as yet another person made comment about the fact that she wasn't wearing green today. It was probably the fifth or sixth person that had felt the need to point out the obvious.
No, she wasn't wearing green today. To be honest, there were few things in her closet that were green and given how extensive a collection she owned, that was saying something. The color didn't look all that great on her and like hell she was going to dress in something she didn't like just because 'it was St. Patrick's Day'. She picked out her clothes based on how she felt and today she did not feel like wearing one of the select green items she owned. Yet, she'd been running into people all day who she knew from school - or didn't know from anywhere - who felt the need to talk about her wardrobe choices just because she didn't incoperate the lousy color into them.
Where the stupid tradition had come from, she had no idea, but she clearly wasn't a fan. No one could tell her what to wear, she was fashionable all on her own and wouldn't dictate her choices on the masses. Not to mention, there wasn't an ounce of Irish blood in her. Her father was half Italian and half Slovak while her biological mother was full Hispanic. Even her adoptive mother, her father's wife and the only woman she'd known to be a mom since she was a toddler, had no Irish heritage. So why should she be expected to uphold the idea about wearing green today?
The only thing that she ever appreciated about St. Patrick's Day in the slightest was the long honored tradition of going out and drinking. Even then, technically she was too young to appreciate that tradition legally. Oh well, it probably wouldn't stop her, not like Nate would be against going out with some of their friends and having a good time. Or, hopefully it would be a good time, so long as everyone didn't insist upon making comments about the fact that she was certainly not planning on putting on anything green even when they went out for drinks.
"Someone's not wearing any green!" This time it was a girl that she knew, someone that she had dance classes with. Although they could hardly be called anything more than acquaintances, the girl still moved to try and punch her arm.
Quickly, Felicia reached out and slapped the girl's hand away. "If you try and touch me again, I will break your damn fingers off," she threatened seriously. Who thought it was okay to just pinch people in public because of what they were wearing? Shopping today had been a bad idea, she should have just stayed at home with Nate instead.
"Way to be a killjoy, Felicia!" The girl rolled her eyes but left off, muttering about people who didn't know how to have any fun.
"Well sorry I don't think being pinched for looking fabulous without wearing green is a crime," Felicia muttered, gathering up her bags and deciding that it'd just be better to head back to Nate's place. After all, he certainly wouldn't complain about her not wearing green and if he even attempted to make a comment for it, she'd wear nothing at all and see if there was still a problem with the lack of anything green. Actually, she might go ahead and do it anyway. She might not be Irish, but it didn't mean she shouldn't get lucky today. Who knew, maybe the drinking could even play a part in it.