Page 34 of Numbers Boy
“You sound like my mom,” Isabella whines, and I kind of love that she’s letting herself be sassy. I hope that it means she’s comfortable with me. She puts on what must be her mom voice. “You’re wonderful just as you are, sweetie. You don’t need to try and impress anyone, you’re impressive enough just being yourself.”
“I mean, she’s not wrong.” I busy myself with cleaning up the hair stuff, thinking maybe she’ll be more likely to not tune me out or shut down if it feels like I’m not forcing it. “Youarepretty great. Now, are we ready for makeup?”
The distraction seems to work, and I get to work on Lilly’s face since Isabella is already getting set up with things in her own little space on the vanity. Soon, Lilly’s got a light layerfoundation on, pink lip gloss smeared on her lips, and plenty of glitter on her cheeks.
“Alright,” I say, brushing off my hands to clear some of the excess glitter. “Now for eyeshadow. Let’s make those beautiful brown eyes pop!” Lilly looks excited, just like she has for every other step in our makeovers, but Isabella rolls said eyes. Ooo-kay, looks like this is a delicate situation. Instead of addressing it outright, I decide to focus on Lilly. “Are we going pinks and purples or gold, Lil?”
“Purple!” she says enthusiastically, and I get started.
“This looks gorgeous on you. I love how warm your eyes are, just like your sister’s.”
My stomach flutters as I think of another person with those Baxter brown eyes. But now isn’t the time to think about Noah. About his warm, whiskey eyes and how they make me feel intoxicated. From the corner of my vision, I see Isabella tilt her head as she looks at her eyes in the mirror.
“You really like them?” she asks dubiously.
“I really do.” I think of a way to describe them that she might understand. “They remind me a little bit of brown sugar. Or maybe gingerbread. Spicy and sweet all at once.”
“Huh,” is all she says to that. But when she catches my eye, there’s a spark of something fierce where there wasn’t before.
“I like gingerbread,” Lilly pipes up, and I turn my gaze to her.
“Me too, girly. Now, are you two ready to help me?”
They immediately take over, making me sit down on one of the chairs we dragged in here and telling me to turn away from the mirror so the end result is a surprise.
While they work, they pepper me with questions about how I started doing makeup and what my favorite dress is. I tell them all about using colors to make me feel pretty and how it’s hard to choose just one dress because they all have different memories in them.
“Why don’t you cover up your freckles more?” Isabella asks when I say they can skip the foundation and concealer, pure curiosity in her voice. I glance up to find her looking at her own reflection, eyes tracing over the darker spots dusted over the bridge of her nose. Based on my own experience, I’m assuming this is one of the things she’s heard comments about from kids at school. Unlike with her eyes, I can easily relate to this one. Maybe I can help frame it in a different light for her.
“You mean my skin confetti?” I reply, keeping my tone light. “I used to. Back when I was around people who didn’t like how they looked. But then I realized thatIlike them. They’re unique to me and make my skin interesting.”
Isabella looks intrigued, and Lilly is now looking for the freckles on her face, too, leaning close to the mirror.
“I’ve never heard them called that before. I like that.” Bingo. Reframe for the win. Now for some empowerment through humor.
“Besides,” I continue, picking up a tube of bright pink lip gloss, “you know who else has spots? Mother flippin’ leopards. And don’t you dare tell me leopards aren’t baddies.”
Both girls giggle, and they get back to adding color to my face. As they do, talk turns to school again and things they’re looking forward to. Lilly is excited about the science fair being held in a few months, and Isabella mentions getting to choose whether to join choir next fall but is worried about what the other girls are going to do. I know I’ve already put my two cents in multiple times over, but Amy did say she was worried about how Isabella’s doing at school. I decide to have one more Life Lessons with Steve moment.
“It’s okay to like things, you know that, right? If girls are going to be mean to you anyways, do you want them to be mean to you over something you don’t even enjoy or get to enjoy your life no matter what other people think?” As I’m saying it, Irealize I’ve been worried about the same thing when it comes to my drag. Well, shit, I should probably take my own advice. Even with all of the times Noah and I have hung out, and even fooled around, I still haven’t brought up Eve because I’ve been worried about what he might think. I hold up a finger, mind reeling. “Hold on, girly pops. I think I’m having an epiphany.”
“Uh… do we need to call an ambulance?” Isabella asks. When I glance at her in surprise, she gives me a wicked grin, all worries about school momentarily forgotten. “You know, for the epiphany you’re experiencing.”
“Alright, smart Alec.” I roll my eyes and make a shooing motion. I guess my grand personal revelations will have to wait. “Into the living room with you. It’s time for a dance party.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Noah
AS SOON ASI walk through the door, shaking water droplets off my jacket, the sound of giggling reaches my ears. It’s soon followed by voices singing along to “Walking on Sunshine.” I shuck my boots and coat as fast as I can and try not to track too much water into the hallway as I make my way toward Steve’s living room. When I peek around the corner, the sight that greets me makes my heart stop for a second before it speeds up, feeling so full it could burst.
My nieces are both grinning widely as they sing and dance, but my eyes are immediately drawn to the man in between them. You know that scene inThe Little Mermaidwhere Ariel rises out of the sea in her glittering gown? That’s what this feels like. I’m awestruck by how gorgeous Steve is. But it’s not just the makeup, which looks like the girls did for him. He’s shining like he’s lit up from the inside. His eyes are crinkled at the corners as he bounces around, holding out a hairbrush as an imaginary microphone for Isabella to sing into. When she reaches out to take it from him, Steve takes Lilly’s hand, and they start doing a silly hopping dance, adding backup vocals every so often. Stacy’s tail is wagging nonstop as she bounces around with them. When she sees me, she gives a soft “woof” of greeting, which makes the other three look over at me.
Steve’s face somehow lights up even more when he sees me, and he waves me over to join them. I grin but shake my head, more than content to watch their impromptu performance. Steve, however, isn’t going to let me off easy. He spins Lilly over to Isabella as the song shifts to “Shake It Off” and then joins me in the doorway, hand outstretched. I take it, his slim fingers warm against my own, and he pulls me into him. I wrap my arms around his waist, just as eager to reconnect as he is, and he reaches up to wrap his around my neck.
“Hi,” he breathes through a smile, brushing a drop of rain off my face with gentle fingers.
“Hi,” I reply, scanning his face and seeing nothing but pure happiness as he pulls me further into the living room. “You all look like you’re having fun. Sorry to rain on your parade.”
