Page 95 of Sour Lollipops and Sweet Nightmares
She bought me these jeans? Great. Now, I couldn’t complain about them, that would be rude. This friend stuff was a pain in the ass. Also… “Cardigans cover your torso, not your butt.”
“When they’re two sizes too large—like yours—they cover everything.”
It was worth a shot. “Can I at least wear a coat?”
“Do you have one that fits properly?”
“Define properly.”
She gave me a side eye, which pretty much said no to my request for a coat.
“Ugh,” I groaned. “That’s not fair. Nothing fits me properly.”
“Those jeans do.”
Just because she found some magical store that catered to women who were an inch shy of five feet, didn’t mean that I shouldn’t be allowed to wear a jacket.
Rachel placed her hand on her cocked hip. “Are you going to keep complaining, or are you going to let me do your makeup?”
I openly groaned my objection.
“Suck it up, buttercup,” Rachel sang. “Now sit down.”
Grumbling under my breath, I accepted my fate and dropped my butt on the foot of the bed.
She had already done my hair, wasn’t that enough? Ponytail was the only style I knew. Then Rachel came along and made my hair all curly, bouncy, and extra shiny. It was so soft I couldn’t stop touching it. Curse Rachel and her excellent styling skills.
Rachel sat on the bed next to me and started digging through my cosmetic pouch. Outward appearance was never high on my list, but I did have to admit that Rachel looked fantastic. The cocktail dress she wore was simple and pretty, and her makeup wasn’t overdone, which surprised me.
I thought she was the kind of girl who would go all out for a party. I could do without the three fake gems she had near the corners of her eyes, but they were cute.
“Um, Georgia…” Rachel looked up at me. “Where’s all your makeup?”
“Right there.” I nodded at the makeup pouch in her hands.
“The only things in here are mascara, blush, and lip gloss.”
“Yeah,” I nodded.
Her brow arched. “You can’t be serious. This is all you have?”
“That’s more than I wanted.” The only thing I bought was the lip gloss. No one liked chapped lips. Mom added the mascara and blush.
“It’s okay, we can work with this,” Rachel said, although I wasn’t sure if she was talking to me or herself. “I have a few things in my purse.”
Her definition of a few and mine were very different. She pulled out brushes, various containers, a thing that looked like scissors on one end with weird crescent-shaped clamps on the other, and an egg-shaped sponge thing that she used to pat stuff on my face.
I sat there while Rachel did her thing. The look on her face was oddly fascinating. We hadn’t known each other for verylong, but I had learned a few things about her. She talked more than anyone I’d ever met, was overly friendly, liked to hug way too much, and didn’t take anything seriously, not even her studies.
Watching her apply cosmetics to my face was the first time I’d seen her so focused. It was as if I were seeing another version of her. One that wasn’t so superficial.
It was a little disappointing that she got this way over makeup, but she’d probably say the same about me and rocks. I was just happy to see her interested in something other than boys. And she talked a lot about boys.
Huh?
I looked at Rachel as she used what looked like a pencil to trace my lips. Maybe her overactive hormones could come in handy. She obviously knew a lot about guys.
“Can I ask you a question?”
