Page 61 of The Fangirl Project
“I might have a little bit, and my parents know,” Anissa says, though she doesn’t mention the gin she’s been supplied with.
Mom nods, and I usher her out before she can repeat her whole “safe partying” spiel. Anissa meets my eye with another giggle and I just roll mine, and we start discussing outfits. While she’s leaning toward jeans and a T-shirt, I’ve got a dress Nikita lent me that the other girls all approved, and I try to persuade Anissa to wear her dress, too. I don’t want to look out of place; I don’t wantherto feel out of place, either.
She seems to have bundled half her wardrobe into her duffel bag, though, so we have plenty to choose from, and by the time we’re snacking on pizza and potato chips, she’s happily settled on a long-sleeved black tube dress. It’s knee length and a little plain, but by the time she adds some makeup and a pair of hoops, it’ll be perfect, I think—but then I’m forced to bite my tongue when she layers on a necklace with a misshapen jade pendant and clips on a gold ear cuff that looks like a snake.
She’s still wearing the evil eye bracelet, too. None of it matches, and with the black dress, shedoeslook very witchy. Maybe that’s the vibe she’s going for, though…?
I guess if she feels comfortable, that’s what matters?
I think of Max, so confident in his cosplay out in public, and every time I’ve fussed and fidgeted with my carefully curatedordinaryoutfits. It’s inconceivable, but…I could kind of do with a little of his confidence right now, or Anissa’s.
Nikita’s dress fits me mostly okay; it’s a little big in the boobs, and shorter than I was expecting, but I’m determined to wear it. Short-sleeved and bright red, Chloe called it a “showstopper.”
(Evie joked that I wasn’t going onBake Off,and Daphne did a whole bit pretending to be Paul Hollywood and shake my hand, which makes me want to laugh again just thinking about it.)
I tug at the dress in front of the mirror, trying to make it sitright.
It makes my boobs look even smaller than normal, despite the fact I’m wearing my best bra; and it gapes open around the neck, but Jake won’t notice something like that. And it’s the perfect color—passionate, romantic, sexy. That’s what’s important.
“Wow,” Anissa says, glancing over from where she’s doing her eyeliner. “You look fab.”
“D’you think so? It’s not…?”
I turn this way and that, scrutinizing my reflection, but Anissa shakes her head vehemently. “Definitely not!”
I breathe a sigh of relief; even if we have quite (okay,very) different taste in partywear, the reassurance is a big help. I sit down on the floor, pulling my makeup bag to me, rooting through for my lip gloss.
As I pull it out, I remember Daphne painting my lips for me in the school bathroom and how it didn’t feel like me, more like I was putting on a mask, and I say to Anissa, “Do you really think I’m intimidating?”
“Maybe that came out wrong,” she replies softly, and lowers her hands from doing her makeup. “It’s more like…you seem so sure of yourself. Who you are, where you belong. Does that make sense?”
Again, bizarrely, I think of Max.
And I tell Anissa honestly, “I always thoughtyouseemed likethat.”
“What?Yeah, pull the other one, Cerys.”
“No, I mean it. You never seemed to care if you were on your own or…or if people were bitching about your dodgy haircut in Costa when you could hear.”
We lock eyes in the mirror.
“Itwaspretty dodgy,” she admits, and cracks a smile that takes a weight off my shoulders.
“I’m…not, for the record. Sure of myself, I mean. And I definitely don’t feel like I always say or wear or do all the right things. Itryto, because I want to fit in, rather than—”
Be like you.
I catch myself before I say it out loud, but Anissa seems to hear it anyway. She fidgets with her eyeliner.
“I don’t blame you,” she says. “Sometimes I think I’d rather fit in than just be myself, too.”
“No, that’s not…”
It’s…not what I’m doing. Is it?
I’m not trying to pretend to be someone else. I mean, everyone knows you have to get the right school bag or water bottle and follow the right influencers and style your clothes just so, and show up at a coffee shop at the right time before classes start so you’re not left behind. But that’s not changing who youare,it’s not…
It’s not like delving deep into a fandom you don’t care about, just so a boy will like you.
