Fallen University: Year One

“Because you’re already red in all the right places,” she said with a grin. She kept working for a few more minutes. When she backed away, she squinted at me like an artist judging her canvas.

“Perfect.”

I looked in the mirror and couldn’t believe it. She had managed to match my nor

mal skin tone almost perfectly, though my lips and hairline were still bright red. The gothic vibe suited me, but the contrast with Hannah’s reptilian sheen was stark.

“Okay, your turn. Tell me what to do.”

“Yeah, um… here, use this, then this, then this, then the foundation, then set it, then the contour, then the lips. Use… this one.”

“What am I supposed to do with red, blue, and yellow?”

She blinked at me, then grinned. “I’ll show you.”

I felt a little bad about not being able to return the favor, but only for a moment. Watching her transform her face was magical. She used the red all over, then the blue in the hollows of her face, then the yellow as a highlight.

“War paint.” A grin stretched my lips. “I approve.”

She only laughed and shook her head. Next came the foundation, and that was the most surprising part. As soon as it went on, all of the base colors blended seamlessly, leaving her looking mostly human. By the time she finished with the rest of it she looked relatively normal—apart from the giant horns.

She had the same thought. Her hands wandered up to the mangled protrusions and touched them tentatively, as if she was afraid they would hurt her.

“I don’t know any makeup tips for this,” she said sadly.

I grinned. “This is a job for the costume department.”

I grabbed her hand as I rushed out of the bathroom to my closet.

“So, I’m a bit of a Halloween aficionado,” I explained as I dragged a tattered cardboard box out into the middle of the room. Halloween was my favorite holiday. Thanksgiving, Christmas—basically all the family-oriented ones—I could take or leave. But Halloween? That shit was my jam. “Let’s see… witchy, beachy… pirate!” I tossed hats out of the box as I named them, the last of which was a big floppy velvet hat with a garish gold flower on one side.

She picked it up and giggled. “You actually wore this?”

“Sure did. I’ve got the matching corset around here somewhere. I was going for a steampunk thing but it turned pirate-y on me somehow.”

She laughed and put the hat on at a jaunty angle. “How do I look?”

I tilted my head, considering. “Like you’re smuggling branches under there. Let’s see… oh! Mystical purple turban?”

Her jaw dropped in astonishment.

“I took a job as the ‘psychic’ at a kids’ fair once. They stiffed me on my pay so I took the hat.”

“Wow! I could never do that. What did they say?”

“What could they say? They owed me two hundred bucks!” I tossed my hair back indignantly then shrugged. “Didn’t keep them from cussing me out, though. Anyway, you want it?”

“I don’t think it goes with my outfit,” she said wryly.

“Neither do those horns.”

She narrowed her eyes at me, but her lips twisted in a suppressed smile as she snatched the turban out of my hands. She put it on then looked at me.

“Better,” I said, trying to keep my expression blank. She looked a little like a crazy palm reader, but at least it matched her jacket. “Can’t see the horns at all.”

“I can still see yours. Let me go see what this even looks like.” She hurried to the mirror and burst out laughing. There was a slightly hysterical edge to her voice, but it was better than hearing her cry again. “Oh… my… God. This is terrible!”

I put on a shiny bowler hat and joined her. “We’ll just tell people it’s funny hat day and look at them like they’re imbeciles for not being in the know.” I slid my fingers over the rim of my hat and shot myself a sultry look.