Adria's Choice

Chapter 7

2012

Two months had passed since that initial sleepover at my house. Lexie and I started hanging out, and often slept over at each other's houses. Karyl would join us once in a while, if only to make good on her promise to her parents that she was with us and not with John (which was where she actually was most of the time).

Lexie was always warmly received by my parents at home, especially since they knew her from before. But we didn't bother to inform them that we had met through Tom. They assumed we met through Karyl, and I was happy to let them think that way.

My plan was to get to know her and, well, be more like her. I didn't want to make her suspicious so every once in a while, I'd also answer her questions, such as how Karyl and I became friends despite her being so loud. But despite my initial plan and reason for befriending her, I slowly grew to like her as a person, and as my friend. She was genuinely warm, beautiful inside and out, and an utter neat-freak. Despite her gorgeous looks, she wasn't haughty or vain. She was very generous with praise, although not very generous with her money. (She refused to give to beggars—one thing she and I often disagreed on when I would dole out coins. You're cultivating a begging culture! she'd argue. I'd just shrug and ignore her)

We spent one whole night going over my wardrobe, and went shopping the next day. She helped me pick out new clothes to look more professional at work, and also gave me tips on dressing up for my figure. She also taught me how to put on make-up, those smoky eyes that I just couldn't quite perfect back then, and the perfect au naturale look.

In turn, I would teach her to paint sometimes, but she just didn't enjoy it. Instead, after seeing my paintings at home, she asked me to do a nude painting of her. I almost refused but she insisted, saying it had long been a dream of hers, to be painted nude like Rose in Titanic. She saw my panicked expression so she hurriedly added that it was her back she wanted painted.

I put up all arguments I could think of until she challenged me, teasing me about my artistic talents. And if there was one thing that really ticked me off, it was being teased about that. So one afternoon, she laid down on her bed with her back to me, with only a gold shawl slung over her hips to cover her butt, and I started painting her. It was so nerve-wracking for me, and I was filled with a mixture of emotions that I didn't know how to define. After three sessions, I gave it to her and she hung it on her bedroom wall (Karyl was totally jealous when she saw it and wanted me to make one for her, too).

After some time, she asked how I met Tom (college classmate, he pursued me for one whole year and I thought he was the one) and about the places I'd been to, while she perused my photo albums. That night, while hanging out after work at her pad, she asked about my family.

"What was your childhood like?" she said, after licking her spoon clean.

We were stuffing ourselves with ice cream. Normally, I wouldn't eat so much, but in my quest to make myself like her, I'd been jogging every day. In great secrecy. Karyl was too busy at work and with John so she barely noticed whenever I hightailed it out of the office as soon as the clock struck five.

Back in Lexie's zen apartment, I inhaled, I mean, ate, the last of my chocolate-with-almonds ice cream before answering. She was on her second cup of pistachio ice cream. I'd learned by then that she was one of those lucky few who could eat whatever they wanted and stay slim. Me, not so much. I knew I was going to pay for this the next day with an extra fifteen minutes of jogging or so.

"Well," I waved my spoon, not noticing that I splattered some ice cream on the floor. Lexie immediately dove down with some tissue and her glass of water, in an attempt to wipe the floor clean. "Oops, sorry!"