Hands on her hips, Lilith looked at her bed. It was covered in just about every outfit she owned. Lilith wasn’t the kind of girl who cared about fashion. She doubted she would have been able to figure out what was considered sexy if Smith and the other girls hadn’t taught her. More than that, it was very rare for Lilith to think about her body at all. She looked in the mirror when she needed to straighten something, but it was a perfunctory glance at best. As long as what she was wearing fit and wasn’t too full of holes, she wore it. Period. So why the hell she was so conflicted about her outfit, she didn’t know. It wasn’t as though there was a wide range of choices. She had jeans in various colors and T-shirts. She should have known without having to stare at everything she owned, she wasn’t going to come up with something so impressive out of nowhere. Why was she noticing things like how frayed her jeans were? Her shirts were shapeless for the most part. And wrinkled. Everything was wrinkled.
