"Miss Weaver, please acknowledge your own age; you are also a teenage girl, okay?"
"I am nineteen!"
"Yeah, not yet twenty, right? Still a teenager!"
Cora Ginger, satisfied, looked at Isabella Weaver dressed entirely in pink, and zipped up her sports jacket: "Look, as soon as you put on this outfit, you look ten years younger! You dress so maturely all the time, people who don't know might think you're in your seventies or eighties!"
Isabella's skin was white and glowing, which Cora always envied and felt jealous about; she couldn't wear such pink, it would make her look darker, but she loved pink so much that she ended up buying the outfit and never wearing it.
She didn't sleep, washed up, and changed clothes, dragging Isabella out to go to the mall.
