Both Allie and Lauren looked at me, eyebrows raised. They didn't need to say a word; I knew what they were thinking and knew they were right.
“I'll pick out the outfit,” Allie said, opening up the closet door and rummaging through it, tossing skirts and sparkly items I couldn't make out onto the bed next to me. “You get her makeup, Lauren.”
“Can you do that to me?” I asked, motioning toward her eye.
“Do what?” she asked, cocking her head to the side, confused.
“The thing – with your eyes.” I moved my finger around the corners of my eye. “The eyeliner, I mean.”
Lauren laughed, turning toward the mirror and getting to work on her other eye. “Wow, this is really going to be interesting, Allie. What a nice little project this one will be.”
I wanted to argue that I wasn't a project or a toy – but again, I knew they were probably right. I hardly ever wore makeup. Maybe a little lip gloss or powder, but that was it. I just didn't spend as much time dolling myself up as some of the girls.
As I stared into the big mirror across from me, my auburn hair was pulled back in a messy bun, my pale white face was covered in freckles. I had a hard time imagining myself looking like either of them – both Allie and Lauren were the perfect cheerleader types and every man's fantasy. Blonde hair, blue eyes, perfect makeup and hair, clothing and accessories not unlike what you'd see on a runway.
And there I was, messy hair, freckled face, in penguin pyjama pants and an old grey t-shirt. The exact opposite of the girls in front of me.
So yeah, maybe I was a bit of a project.
Allie picked out an outfit for me - a black skirt that hugged my hips and fell just below my butt and a sheer long-sleeved red top that showed off my black bra clearly. I stared in the mirror and gawked at my reflection. Sure, I had a nice figure from having parents that scrutinized every little thing I ate, but this was showing it off a bit too much.
“Lovely,” Allie said, beaming with pride. “What do you think, Lauren?”
“I think that top looks better on me, but whatever,” she said, rolling her eyes. “She looks awesome though. Can't even tell she's a bookworm.”
“Now for the hair...” Allie said, pulling my messy bun loose. My auburn waves fell over my shoulders and Allie looked impressed. “Nice. I'll just clean those waves up and that should work.”
Lauren pulled me over and applied makeup, but wouldn't let me look in the mirror until I was done. Allie stood over her shoulder, watching and commenting as she worked. I'd never had someone apply my makeup before, so it felt weird – as weird as wearing fake eyelashes and eyeliner, both a first for me. My eyelashes felt heavy, the makeup felt thick on my face. I almost felt like a clown, like these girls were playing a joke on me, but when Lauren turned me around – I didn't recognize the girl looking back at me in the mirror.
“What do you think?”
“It's – or rather, I'm – beautiful,” I said softly, touching my cheek. It was powdery soft.
My eyes were larger – almost too large for my face. The green in my hazel eyes shone brighter than before, thanks to the eyeshadow Lauren used. My lips were supple and red, but there was no sticky lip gloss in sight.
“You like?”
“I love it,” I said, a note of awe in my voice.
The two girls smiled proudly behind me. “See? There's hope for her yet.”
I wasn't sure what Allie was talking about, but it didn't matter. They rounded up the other girls, all of whom were surprised by my transformation, and we headed downtown to the Neon Dragon.
Even though it had been months since I'd last seen Reese – and I doubt he'd remember me anyway – I had to wonder what he'd think of me now. The new me. The prettier, less nerdy me.
I couldn't wait to run into him and see what he thought – see if he regretted missing out on this new me. As we rode in the Uber, all of us crammed together in the car, I couldn't help but wonder if that was my motivation for doing this. After everything my brother had said, all the mocking and teasing about my crush on his friend and him telling me that Reese just thought I was weird, I was going to show them once and for all.
I was sure this wasn't what my mom had in mind when she told me to be social, but hell, I was doing exactly what she wanted me to do.
And I'd show them all.
ooo000ooo
The first thing I noticed upon entering the club was that no one – and I mean no one – was sober. Most of the people around me looked stoned or high, staring off into space and dancing like they were off in their own little world – which, they probably were. Electronic music blasted through the speakers, drowning out any potential conversation you might want to have, and the place reeked like booze and vomit.
Very glamorous indeed.
We pushed our way through the crowds, headed to the bar. I had a wristband that was given to me at the door saying I was, indeed, twenty-one. Even though I wasn't.