Some say getting out of The Friend Zone is hard. Well, try getting out of The Sister Zone.
Vanessa Hayes-Wong has been best friends with Oliver Morrison for five years, one month, and fourteen days. Just as she starts to realize her feelings for him...
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"What is this, Ness?" I hold the pamphlet up, struggling to keep my hands from trembling.
"It's a beauty brochure," Nessa answers with a grin.
I click my tongue in frustration. "Fine, I'll rephrase my question. Why were you reading this?"
"I was just—" She lowers her gaze, her mouth pursed in a frustrated pout. The look on her face tells me she's searching for a snappy remark to evade my question again. Just when I think she's about to give up, she snatches the brochure from my hand. "It's none of your business, Ol. I can read whatever I want."
"Ness—"
She plonks on the bench and folds her arms across her chest, avoiding my gaze. But even though her mouth is sealed shut, her eyes are screaming for help.
"Hey." I settle next to her and hook a finger under her chin, guiding her eyes to mine. Keeping my voice soft, I ask, "Did that creep tell you to get one of these? Or—"
Nessa shakes her head, her eyes fixated on the brochure in her hands. "Ryan has nothing to do with any of this. And he's not a creep."
The green-eyed monster peeks an eye open at her remark. But the burning-red dragon overpowers him as I realize my initial hunch is correct. The harassment Nessa has been receiving over the past five days must be so severe that she's considering getting plastic surgery.
I prop my elbows on my knees and drop my face into my hands. "You're actually considering plastic surgery because of what your haters said?"
"It's not plastic surgery, Ol. It's just a beauty procedure. It's not permanent." Her voice is gentle and soothing, but the lack of assurance in her eyes tells me she has doubts about her statement.
"What's the difference? It still changes your face."
"Well, my face will eventually change anyway. Contrary to popular belief, we Asians—or in my case, half-Asians—do age. Sooner or later, we will get our wrinkles," she jokes before offering me a tight-lipped grin.
I keep my face straight. "You know that's not what I'm talking about."
Her smile dies. "What's so wrong with changing my face?" The vulnerability in her voice serves as delicious sustenance to the burning-red dragon inside me, and my chest squeezes tighter than before.
"Ness, you don't need to—"
"Everybody's doing so these days. Even celebrities who were born with faces I could only dream of having. So why shouldn't I?"
"Oh, so if everyone's torturing cats, then you're gonna join them?"
"Of course not!" she snaps. "That's a whole different situation and you know it."
I put my hands up in apology. "Fine. My bad. What I'm trying to say is, you shouldn't do something just because everyone else is doing it."
"I know." The tension in her expression eases a little. "I'm just considering ways to . . . improve myself. Like an upgrade."
