Amethyst: A Collection Of Short Stories

un coeur contagieux

Translation: a contagious heart

Ps: [Evey] is pronounced as [eve-y]

Genre/theme: teen fic, romance, holidays.

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Christmas Shmishmas, New Year shoo yea. I eyerolled, grabbing my curling iron.

I was in my room, getting ready because I accepted a stupid dare. Every year, the Denzels hold a New Year's Eve party because they think it's cool for people to reunite and have fun.

Bullshit.

I told my older sister, Ivy, that I was better than her at tennis so she challenged me to a match. Unfortunately, she won by one point and I lost. The loser had to complete a dare so, here I am curling my hair because I was dared to. To worsen it, my school mates are going to be there. I will avoid social interaction with my age group at any cost but I do have friends though, funny enough. I wonder why anybody would even want to be friends wi-

"Ivanka, are you ready yet?" My sister yelled from her room.

"No!" I exclaimed, getting fed up. She had been repeating that question every five minutes.

She barged into my room, fully dressed and ready. Her big blue eyes glared at me. Sometimes I get jealous of her eyes. She had an amazing color, whereas I had hazel eyes. Her shoulder length blonde hair was straightened to perfection. I was a blonde but I dyed my hair dark brown back in eight grade. I hated being blonde. I hated the stereotype.

She crossed her arms over her chest, her manicured nails shining. Raising a perfectly arched eyebrow, she tsked, her bold red lips catching my attention.

"Nice lipstick. It makes you look different," I commented.

"That's the point. Now, what are we going to do with you?"

She got to work, applying light makeup on my face and curling my hair.

"Finally," I muttered, standing up as soon as she told me she was done.

She grabbed my shoulders and assessed my face, looking for imperfections.

"You look perfect!" A dimple appeared on her oval face as she smiled at me. We both had oval faces and dimples but, I wish I didn't. Dimples make people cute; I don't want to be seen as cute. I want to be seen as mature.

"So, what do think?" She asked, shoving me in front of my full-length mirror. I looked myself over. I have to admit though, I looked prettier. Instead of telling her that, I shrugged.

"Is that all?" Her smile dropped.

I was used to seeing those looks anytime I talked or gestured so, at this point, I was immune to feeling bad or feeling the need to right my wrong and make them happy.

I turned around, took my gown that laid on my neatly dressed bed and walked into my bathroom. Few minutes later, I walked out.

I stepped in front of my mirror and tried to zip my dress.

"Need help?" Ivy asked from the doorway.

Without turning around, I replied. "No thanks, I got it." After struggling for some time, I did it. I zipped my gown.

I glanced at Ivy who was still standing in the doorway. "Should I help you zip?"

"Yes, please," she replied. I loved how polite Ivy always was.

She walked over and I zipped up her dress and hooked her necklace. As if planned, we both walked in front of my mirror to admire our dresses. Ivy wore a red mermaid dress with glitter on the end. I, on the other hand, wore a dark blue halter gown.