She claps her hands. “I’ve always loved road trips with you.”
“Me too, agasshi.”
“Yes.”
The excitement in her voice makes me laugh out loud.
“WAIT. WHY ARE WE PACKING right now?” Ava asks.
“Because you love me.” I fold my tank top and turn to face the leggy blonde with doll-like features. With her wide, blue eyes, little, upturned nose, and thin lips, she seems delicate. In truth, she’s a powerhouse vocalist of a local rock band. Teaching guitar and working at the local instrument shop during the day, she spends her nights rocking out with the same bassist, lead guitarist, and drummer she’s had since high school.
“That is a given. Give me more details.”
“As long as you promise not to laugh.”
“Oh, I can’t do that with as worried as you look.”
I sneer, and she giggles. “I’m auditioning for a contest.”
“Oh my God. Like Face-Off? I’ve been telling you for years to try out—”
“No.” I shake my head and laugh, exasperated by her intense energy. “For a Korean K-Drama.”
She quirks an eyebrow up. “Wait. To do make-up for them?”
“More like, to compete to win a meet and greet and a roll on the show.”
“Wow. I thought behind the lens was more your thing, but if you want to branch into acting, that’s cool.”
I roll my eyes. “We all know my face needs deliverance too much when I feel a certain way to ever be an actress.”
“You said that, not me.” She points at me.
“This is for Fiona. She loves K-Drama, and her favorite actor is on the show, Secret Heiress.”
“That’s incredibly sweet.”
“Her entire face lights up when she’s watching, Ava. For that hour, I have my sister back. I know grief is a process that looks different for everyone, but I want to end this year on a better note for her.”
Ava wraps her arms around me and pulls me close. “It’s been a tough year for you, too. I think what you’re doing is amazing. Fiona is lucky to have you as a big sister.”
“Thank you.” The words are the encouragement I need.
“Now that I know what you’re packing for ...” Ava picks up my duffle bag and turns it upside down.
“Hey.”
“I can’t let you go like this.” Rolling her eyes, she points at me. “You want to catch their eye and tell a story with your clothing.”
“What story am I trying to tell?”
“I’m interesting, chic.” She strikes a pose and then bats her eyelashes. “And doing this for my baby sister.”
“And you know how to tell all of that with clothing?” I ask skeptically.
“You may be a magician with a make-up brush, but I’m a surgeon with articles of clothing.” She skips over to my closet, and I feel a spike of fear. I’ve never been as daring as my eldest friend. When it comes to my face, I’m fearless. I enjoy trying bold colors, putting sparkles on everything when I’m in the mood. Distorting or accentuating different features is a challenge I strive to reach. I don’t limit myself to fashion beauty, I enjoy theatrical and horror looks as well. It’s where I express myself and purge the good and bad vibes that come out of me.
Clothes drift onto my bed as Ava turns into a mad scientist, mixing and matching to create a vision only she sees. She shakes a sheer, white dress with white polka dots overlaying the white dress.