Sight And Sorries

Chapter Three

   Adira  

Watching the girls get ready only makes me aware how much I've missed by not having friends. I'd known I was missing sleepovers, parties, and other types of gatherings. The way they spoke to eachother, completing one another's sentences, laughing at inside jokes and the way their faces lit up when talking about one of their accomplishments. It made me envious, and a little mad at myself.

Self hatred seeping in the cracks of my self-esteem, knowing I was the reason I didn't have friends. The girls had said it, I looked unapproachable. That and the fact I never spoke to anyone was the reason I didn't have any friends. The reason why I didn't have what they had.

After tonight I just hoped they wanted to still try and be friends. I felt awkward and uncomfortable, seeing them get ready and talk made me feel odd. I didn't know when I should or shouldn't speak. I wasn't close with them, not yet anyways. I don't have the social skills.

Am I aloud to openly disagree with something they're saying? Should I just nod along with their points of view? I want them to like me but at what cost? At the end of the day I still needed to be true to myself. I couldn't lie just so they would like me, could I?

It wouldn't be big things. I could just agree with stupid highschool drama. I wouldn't be a bad person if I nodded my head. I could stand by my opinions on the big things though, they might like that. From what I could tell Faith didn't agree with things Cammy and Claire did. Claire and Cammy thought Faith should let her inhibitions go. Cammy and Faith both thought Claire should go natural instead of bleaching her hair again. It wasn't like they agreed with everything the other person did or didn't do.

Still I kept quiet unless spoken to. Sitting on Cammy's bed as they sat on the floor. Tiny mirrors in hand as they piled their makeup in the middle. It was interesting watching them. How they knew without words when to pass and take things from the other. Claire acted as if she was in charge, passing the girls what she picked for them. The girls taking and putting whatever on without complaint. I'd considered sitting with them before I'd realized I didn't have nearly as much makeup or skill. I was good at one thing, liner, and that was all. I didn't wear eyeshadow or lipstick. Aside from minor blush and bronzer I stayed far away from colour. The risk wasn't worth the reward in my eyes. I'd probably try and end up looking like a clown.

My dad would probably murder me anyways. He'd had a fit the first time I'd worn makeup. He treats my like a child, sometimes I think he's under the impression I'm still five. He'd thought I was too young, and in the end I'd won. It took days of pleading, days of showing him different profile pictures of girls my age. I'd strategically only show him the girls who wore the most. That way our compromise would be exactly what I'd wanted. It was genius if you ask me.

In the days it took arguing with him I'd wished for a mom more times than I could count. My dad tried hard making up for the fact I was being raised without one, but some things a girl needed a mother for. Like when I got my first period or bra. My dad did his best but I could tell he was uncomfortable. When we went to get the bra he just handed me to a sales attendant. Standing by the register to pay as she measured and picked out bras for me to try.

Watching the girls I wondered if their mothers taught them about makeup and how to use it. Did their moms go in the changing room with them for their first bra? Or were they left with a stranger as well? It wasn't something I could ask them, not without sounding weird.

Sliding off the rainbow patterned blanket I stood up. Stretching my arms above my head to crack my back. Slouching in the bed had taken its toll on my spine. At least her room didn't smell as strongly as the rest of her house. With the windows open and her door closed fresh air wafted through. Easing the headache that started when we walked inside.