"Oh, honey, why didn't you change?" Christina fixed her lip gloss, gazing into small compact, before she closed it with a snap. "A Charlie Brown hoodie?" She prodded at my clothing choice, as if surprised I would stoop so low.
"I didn't have time." Sol was my ride, and my session with my psychiatrist ended when she arrived to pick me up. She assured me, as best friends always do, that I looked gorgeous. It is just a bridal shower, with gifts and stylish women bonding over drinks and food. I was surprised the bride ever let me come at all. She mainly invited Sol, but Sol asked Hailey if she could "bring her bestie." I sucked in a breath, awaiting the next blow of pointed looks from Christina.
"Well, planning ahead is always best. I learned from that mistake often enough." The girl moved on from her lips to her mascara. I loved makup just as the next girl, but half of the time people saw my face, it was bare, blemished, and shiny. Christina had flawless skin, no pores at all, it seemed. No wonder she spent her days on small film projects, auditions, and modeling. She was driven. Unlike me. I just had not found my niche, and there was little chance I would. I refused to abide a pointed nose in the air any longer, and I used every ounce of energy I owned to keep the anger inside my body.
"I'm going to use the restroom." I stood abruptly, Christina, startled by my declaration.
"Good idea, Nylon. Sol will be able to help you tame that hair." The party was about to start, and Hailey, the kind soul she was, waved in my direction. I swallowed my indignation once more at the sound of the woman in the chair beside my own, getting my name wrong. She was the definition of rude, and if one more person was that demanding of their high opinion again, I thought I might strangle them.
"At least mine is fixable. Yours requires constant supervision." I listened to her display of contempt behind me, as I stalked toward the lady's bathroom. On my way there, I brushed against a shoulder. Freckles adorned his face.
"I'm sorry." What was a man doing at a bridal party?
"No worries." He says, and I continued my race to the door. Sol stood there like a telescope-eyed goldfish, reading the smeared message on the long series of mirrors.
"Did you do that?" I asked, knowing well that Sol loved lipstick and writing messages. I once found an entire poem on a outfit in my closet, listing all the reasons why it was the Devil's vomit. She then promoted a trendier and more appropriate outfit for me to wear. I stuck to the Devil's vomit and remained comfortable in it.
"Nah, mine is apple-red. This is hot pink." Sol wiped off a little with her finger, sniffing it. "Smells like dung paste. Whoever did this, got the cheap stuff." I rolled my eyes, and resorted to reading the directions.
1. Read the directions. (Simple enough)
2. Think of your fondest memory
3. Think of your worst memory, but with your eyes closed.
4. Wash your face with water using the sink directly in front of you.
5. Walk into the stall directly behind you.
"What kind of ritual is this supposed to be?
"Weird, huh?" Sol snapped photos using her iPhone, then adjusted her black skirt. "They forgot to mention clicking our heels and shouting the words 'there's no place like home.'" I glared at her. "We should do it," she says.
DU LIEST GERADE
When Calls the Dream
Fanfiction"I can hear my heartbeat, and it is hopeful and terrified at the same time. " ~ N.E.S. "All night, his mind is plagued by Nyrah's secrets..." ~ When Calls the Dream "...And this tragedy will dwell in Nyrah's heart for the rest of her living days, an...
