"Very funny, Trinity. Can you stop pretending that you're some female player or contestant on Project Runway?" I threw a pillow in her face, and we both fell into a relieving fit of laughter. “I’ve got a picture of you in your Brownie uniform and another of us in overalls and mud boots. I reserve the right to use those if it comes to it.”
"You’re right. You’ve got your own style and you own it. I just want it all to go perfectly and styling you is just me saying I love you.” Trinity sighed and closed her long-lashed eyes.
“Perfection is subjective, and it changes with time.”
“I'm still waiting for Mr. Perfect. I know he’s out there somewhere waiting for me."
"With your criteria, you might be waiting forever."
Sitting up, I pulled the black eye liner out of my make-up pouch and expertly wing tipped my eyes. I had a steady hand for a girl who ran on fifty percent caffeine.
Trinity rested her head on her right arm and watched me. "You’re so pretty, Mads. I love your almond-shaped eyes. And no one, I mean nobody is as funny as you. We don't settle. Ever. We wait for Mr. Right. Okay?"
Suddenly animated, she jumped off the bed, pulling me up by my hands. "So whatcha gonna wear tonight?"
"Jeans and an oversized sweater. The man has seen me unshowered in my work uniform. It'll be a leg up. We want to start slow, don't wanna give him a heart attack or anything."
I watched Trinity check herself out in my full-length mirror wistfully. I would have done anything to look like her: tall, curvy, with shiny long brown hair. I tugged a brush through my limp straight hair and wondered what I could do to make it look more voluminous instead of board straight. If I ever wore what Trinity wore, I’d look like a clown. She was one of the only people I knew who could pull off jeans and four-inch heels. She made all of her outfits look effortless, when I knew she took time and energy to put her looks together and style herself. She wore clothes beautifully. I kind of always felt like my clothes were wearing me, not the other way around.
"I think he's just coming over to be nice, anyway." It was the truth. Duke seemed like maybe he was so polite, he’d never be mean or ever want to turn you down.
"Maddy, guys, don't just come over to your apartment to be nice," Trinity said as she played with the rings on her thumb and fingers.
"Trust me, he could have any woman he wants. You should see how they react to him—practically throw themselves in his lap. It’s all flipping hair and batting lashes, like some kind of exotic bird mating dance. I probably don't stand a chance, because I don’t even know how to act like that."
"Oh my sweet, innocent ingénue. Suppose Duke goes through his whole life with broads doing the ritual courting chicken dance in his face? The reason his attention turned to you is because you’re so genuine, you're incapable of that kind of farce. I think this bad boy wants a real girl, not a Victoria’s Secret knock-off imposter.”
I brushed some mascara lightly onto my upper and lower lashes. I’d mastered the application closed mouth, after my friend in high school pointed out how my jaw hung open with every stroke.
“Now that you mention it, he did seem really uncomfortable with the way people treated him, especially women. It's like he’s always in the spotlight, but doesn’t want to be there.”
“Exactly. He’s lost in a sea of cubic zirconia and this guy wants a simple diamond in the rough. He ignores those ladies and pays his undying attention to you. That means your spice is the exact flavor he’s looking for."
She angled the mirror toward me to catch my reflection too.
"You're gorgeous Maddy. Look at yourself in the mirror, You're perfect. You just need to own it. It’s easier to love others when you love yourself too."
"Alright, alright, you're crazy and I love the shit out of you, but you and your metaphors are gonna have to get lost now. He'll be here soon."
"What? I'm not invited for dinner? I’ll serve and do the dishes!"
"I think having my bestie here is a sure sign of a complete nutter."
"Well, he might as well find out now before y'all get in too deep, don’t you think?"
I laughed as I grabbed her purse and tossed it to her.
"I'll text you later, how about that?"
"Alright, fine, I know when I'm not wanted. Just tell him I come first even if you two end up getting hitched. I love you, bitch."
"Love you too," I said, holding the front door open for her.
We both let out a tiny sound of surprise to see Duke coming down the hallway, right on time, if not a tiny bit early. He nodded and waved as she approached him. As soon as he passed her, she turned around walking backwards, gave me a thumbs-up and stuck her tongue out, before she disappeared around the corner.