Messed Up Vita

Chapter Thirty-Nine

As I close my eyes, I count how many times I've put on makeup. Two, three times? Probably not even. The only utensil I vaguely know how to use is the mascara, and even at that I would probably fail. So I sit there as Mandy smears stuff of my eyelashes, around my eyelids, cheeks, and lips. I am definitely going to wipe all of it off if it's the girly kind of makeup, with pink lipstick and red rosy cheeks too defined for their faces to handle. Or if there's way to much, I'll wipe some off. I'm not here to look like a wanna-be cheerleader.

   After what seems like forever, she finally says to stand up, to finish my hair. She turns me around so I don't face the mirror yet, because she wants it to be a surprise. I watch as she gently separates the curls into tinier ones, and comb out my bangs.

   My legs start to ache, and my back hurts from standing straight. "How much longer?"

   "I'm done, but I want you to get your dress on first," she says. "Okay? Stay here, and do not look in the mirror! Here-- cover your eyes with this, but don't press to hard, or the. . .  stuff will come off." She doesn't even tell me what she's using on my face. I roll my eyes and take the towel from her hands, covering my eyes from the mirror. A second later, she's returned.

    "Here," she says. "Go change in the shower, where you can't see yourself."

   She hands me my dress. I wonder if it'll even fit. I haven't ever tried it on, and if it doesn't, that won't be good for Mandy's sanity. I take the dress and step into the shower, the bottom slightly wet from my shower. I try not to get the dress wet as I take off my pajamas and tank top. I fit into the dress good at first, and I slowly zip up the back. I don't even have to suck in. It fits perfectly around my chest, and falls silkily down my legs. I step out, and Mandy covers her mouth with her hands.

   "You look beautiful, Eliot," she coons. "Oh my gosh, Joey's going to be so happy."

    "You make it sound like I'm getting married," I grumble. She leads me out into my bedroom, where she gently covers my eyes. She stands me before what I assume is my mirror, and stands me still. 

   "Open in one, two, three," she uncovers her hand, and I flicker open my eyelids.

   The dress is the first thing I notice. It's even more pretty than hanging up, and seems to hug my body perfectly. The black and purple fabric clings to me gently, without static. The straps are exactly the right size, and I think it's a bit odd how well it fits, like Mom is my twin or something. Past-twin, anyways. Then I notice my face, and hair. Mandy did it in such a way that I had light gray eyelids, black eyeliner and mascara, and hardly anything on my cheeks. Light, faint pinkish lipstick that's hardly noticeable covers my lips. My hair is in a wave of small brown ringlets around my neck. It rises just above my shoulders, and my bangs flare out to the side flatly.

   I bite the inside of my cheek. It doesn't look like me at all.

   "I look amazing," I say. "Not to be vain, or anything. But you did a wonderful job."

   "I hardly did anything," she says. "You're pretty enough as it is."

   "I'm not going to turn that girly," I say. "commenting pretty things back at each other. But you're going to look pretty, too. Seriously." I reach over and gently punch her shoulder. She punches back, harder. I smile at her, a genuine smile that's not at all forced. 

   "I need to go!" she suddenly gasps, looking at the clock. "He's going to be here soon, and I need to get home! See yah, El." She grabs her jacket and races out of the house in small steps. I hardly have time to call out a goodbye to her.