The hair and makeup brief, as instructed by my cousin, is ‘understated glam’. I have no idea what that means, but I flick the hair curler on. I’ll do my signature loose waves and shimmery eye makeup. It will have to do since I don’t have a professional here to help me, and I’ve spent the past fifteen years perfecting one hair and makeup look.
After wiping the mirror dry, I start applying the beige and chocolate brown eyeshadow. The deep crease and smoky wing highlight the natural almond shape of my eye and brings out the hint of green in my dark brown irises. It’s no show-stopping look, but it does the job. When I’m happy with how it all looks, I start applying my foundation.
“Amira?” My roommate Cassidy’s voice cuts through the silence of the house. “Did you buy the air fryer, or did I?”
She did, but I pause before answering her. As sad as I am that she is moving out, I’m also kind of excited to have the apartment to myself. I’ll never tell her though. Just like I might not tell her that technically she owns the air fryer. It’s not like she will need it in her big new house with her boyfriend. If Callum doesn’t already have one, he’s got the means to buy a newer model. I, on the other hand, do not.
There’s not a single piece of me that regrets giving up my steady wage to go into business with Cassidy when she converted her floristry into a café boutique. The lack of reliable income is less than ideal, though. If it weren’t for Callum’s offer to drop my rent by more than half, I wouldn’t be able to afford to keep living in this tiny two-bedroom unit in Melbourne’s inner suburbs. Perks of my roommate getting into bed with the owner of the building, I suppose. But I’m thankful all the same. If I had to move we’d have to register the new kitchen with the council so I can keep baking the sweets we sell at the café, and that’s assuming my new landlord would be okay with it.
I take a step out of the bathroom and lean around the corner to look down the short hall and into the kitchen. Cassidy has a lone cardboard box on the counter, with a scattering of mugs around it. Her head is tucked into the cupboard under the bench as she sorts through our array of appliances.
“Technically,” I start, hating how my honest nature won’t let me keep the damn air fryer, “it’s yours. But I won’t hate you if you accidentally left it behind.”
Cassidy uses a hand on the counter to guide herself out of the cupboard without knocking her head. As she stands she tightens her messy bun and brushes imaginary dust off her shoulders. Her eyes glisten as she looks at me, a sombre expression painted on her face.
“You can have it,” she mumbles. She peeks into the box, pulling it towards her then dropping her hand inside. Newspaper crunches as she shifts the contents around and pulls out a collection of mugs, some loose cutlery, and the kettle—which was definitely mine anyway, it’s been in the apartment longer than she has. “You can have it all.”
Once the box is empty, she pushes it to the floor and leans her elbows on the granite counter. Her head falls into her hands and her eyes skate around the apartment. From the random assortment of mismatched chairs around the dining table, to our giant bird paintings on the wall, to the strikingly bare couch missing her grandmother’s pink knitted blanket. The tears in her eyes continue to swell until I can’t stand by and watch any longer. I half skip, half run down the short hall, skidding to a stop opposite her. I reach across the bench to pull her hands into mine and lean forward until I can smell the coconut of her conditioner.
“Stop acting like I’ll never see you. We work together. Maybe being out of each other’s hair will do us some good?”
“That’s a lie and you know it. I love your hair.” She runs a hand through my long strands, her fingers getting caught in the knots I haven’t brushed out yet.
“And,” I laugh as I pull a stray strand loose from her haphazard bun, “you need me on call to be able to do your hair for you”
She doesn’t bite back, probably because she knows it’s true.
“I still find it weird how your cousin has you all doing your own hair and makeup,” Cassidy muses, stepping back to pull the now empty box up from the floor.
We’re changing the subject, again. Just like we do every time we get a little too close to acknowledging that after years of living together our time as roommates is coming to an end. I don’t think either of us is ready to fully accept it, let alone talk about it. Sometimes I wonder if we’ll skirt around the truth for the next few weeks until one day a moving truck will arrive and Cassidy, and all her stuff, will be gone.
“The whole thing is twisted,” I admit. “I wanted chocolate-coated strawberries and mimosas, but instead I got homebrewed coffee and overnight oats.”
“You make good coffee though, feel like another one?”
I hold my breath and roll my eyes in a big, exaggerated movement. Cassidy’s coffee leaves plenty to be desired, even when she uses the same grounds and settings as I do. I don’t miss her subtle attempt to con me into making her one, but I don’t blame her for it either. She places two clean mugs by the machine, one covered in wattle prints and the other with a New York City skyline, and grabs the milk. While I make the hot drinks, she starts returning everything she pulled out of the box to the cupboards. I add extra sugars to Cassidy’s, and a heaped spoonful of chai powder to mine. The first sip burns my tongue, but I savour the rich blend of spices and how they mingle with the not quite bitter, nutty blend of the coffee.
After handing Cassidy her mug I head back to the bathroom and gesture for her to follow. “I need to do my hair before Noah gets here, keep me company so I don’t spend the whole time regretting that I agreed to this.”
“You can’t possibly tell me the man your father would have set you up with would be better than Noah?”
I cringe. “True, but there’s nothing fun about pretending to be in love with a guy just to shut my dad up.”
“I can think of plenty of fun things about it. But ew, that’s my cousin so … ew.”
Yeah, ew. It’s got nothing to do with me not liking Noah though. If I’m honest I don’t think I know him enough to not like him. Our meetings have been fleeting moments full of constant bickering. It’s always an unusual kind of fun, and it’s always with Cassidy. He’s her cousin, and since I consider Cassidy like a sister, it kind of makes him my cousin too. Maybe. Probably not. It’s not something I plan on getting too hung up on.
He’s tall.God,he is tall. And he is handsome in a very hot nerd kind of way. Throw a pair of glasses on him and I’d probably start to climb him like a bloody tree. His skin has a permanent sun-kissed kind of glow, and his mop of messy blond hair never sits neatly yet always seems to beg for me to tangle my fingers through it. And when he smiles, his blue eyes twinkle, even if we’re in the dim hallway of the apartment.
And okay he is one of the most attractive men I’ve ever laid eyes on, but he is my best friend’s cousin and surely there’s a rule there? At least, that’s what I’ve been telling myself since he moved back to Melbourne.
“Relax.” Placing my coffee next to my makeup, I turn to rest a hand on Cassidy’s shoulder. “I’m not in this for a good time. I’m in this to avoid a bad time.”
“You’re always in it for a good time.” Cassidy shucks my hand off her shoulder and steps back out of reach.
She’s not wrong, but the truth is, I don’t want a relationship with Noah any more than I want a relationship with anybody. Having a so-called ‘good time’ with a date is a far cry from what my father expects of me, and what I want is to get him off my back. I don’t care I’m still single at thirty. I’m having fun with my life.
“I can’t with Noah though. He’s your cousin.”