“And you’re with a pretty grad student.” She gives me a look that I duck away from, and pulls out something shapeless from the dresser.
“How about trying something different tonight?” I suggest.
She clutches at the towel that’s cinched in the middle of her chest. “Different how?”
“Well, maybe something more eye-catching?” Even though I want to throw open my closet and pull out everything I own, I stay in my desk chair. “Tonight’s a big deal.”
She shifts from foot to foot. “I don’t know what to wear. I’m a little nervous. I’ve never interacted with this many people my own age before. Shouldn’t I just be comfortable?”
I pick my words with care. “Think about it like wearing a costume, to grab your audience’s attention even before you speak. Might even give you a boost of confidence.
” I don’t want to tell her girls in our class call her ‘the homeless girl’. I nudge again, gently. “It’s fun to dress up a little. But it’s no big deal. Julian and I will be there to support you either way.”
“Do you have anything I could borrow? Maybe that’s green?”
I have four outfits at my fingertips before she even finishes her sentence, and after three changes and one fit of the giggles, we settle on an emerald suede jacket that barely comes to my hips and fits her like a dress.
She preens in front of the mirror, and then tugs at the button that closes low on her torso. “You can tell I’m not wearing a bra.”
“You don’t need one.” I eyeball her cleavage. The coat lies perfectly, hinting more than revealing.
“Good, because I don’t have any!” She cups her modest chest in her palms. “I’ve always wanted one. But is not something I could exactly ask Dad to buy me for my birthday. Yours are very pretty. You really don’t mind me borrowing this?”
“Are you kidding? You look a hell of a lot better in it than I do!” My brain is busy browsing every on-line lingerie shopping link I’ve ever seen. “I nearly didn’t bring it because it would be too warm for June.”
“I’m always cold,” she says, then eyes my platforms. “What about shoes? I don’t want to fall off the stage or anything.”
“You wear a size six. I’m five-foot-ten. My feet are the same size as the starting center for Duke. Plus, I’m not really into sharing shoes.” I root through the bottom of her closet, and pull out a pair of long leather boots with buttons all the way up. “Where have you been hiding these? They’re hot!”
“What should I do with my hair?”
“I’m going to curl it, so we actually see your face for once. And yes, I’m doing your makeup, too.”
She looks nervous again. “I’m picking out my jewelry,” she says, her voice and mouth firm. “You might mix wrong.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you can wear a Kokopelli pendant with the rune raido, that’s good for travelling and journeys, but you don’t want to wear him with uruz, or you might just wind up with your skirt over your head and some stranger’s pelli in your koko.” Her hands make blatant gestures.
“Fine. You choose the jewelry.”
*
“Stop fidgeting.”
“I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.”
“Shut up.” Julian glares at me and toys again with the coffee cup on the table. “Why are you so bitchy tonight?”
“I’m not being a bitch. I’m excited.”
He takes a drink. “Explain to me why you’re so hyper about a poetry reading? One of your boyfriends reading erotic sonnets to you? You do realize this isn’t some kind of e e cummings porn-disguised-as-poetry type of situation, right?”
Normally I would cut him down to size for implying I’m only here for dirty literature, but he knows me too well, and I really am jazzed at how amazing Faye looks. By the end of the night, she’ll catch the eye of a dozen guys.
“So what’s up your ass?” I ask him. “It’s Sunday, our one day off from classes, and you act like you’re studying for the GREs.”