Page 8 of Convergence

“And you two hook up over every break?” She asked incredulously.

“Yeah, pretty much. He sleeps with girls at school and comes back to show me what he has learned,” I said with a laugh. I realized how odd that probably sounded to someone who didn’t know me and Caleb. It felt like a logical plan to us.

Daisy practically screamed with laughter. It was infectious, and I joined her laughing. “And has his education been worth the tuition?!” she said between cackles while wiping tears from her eyes.

“Ivy League,” I said, wiping my own eyes. She high-fived me.

“I bet Everett is good,” Daisy said a few minutes later as she straightened my hair.

“Why?” I asked, unsure of her criteria.

“He’s a cowboy, right? I bet he rides real good,” she said dreamily.

“He mentioned a horse to me once, but I don’t know if he’s actually a cowboy,” I teased after a moment of gathering my words. I felt uncomfortable discussing the guys like that with her and I didn’t know why. It was harmless girl talk.

“Oh, his family has a real, actual farm. Like they’re really farmers that raise cows for milk and beef,” she explained.

“How do you know?” I asked, a little jealous.

“I read his application. Actually, I read all of your applications. I wasn’t supposed to, but I was in Professor Hoffmann’s office and saw them. I’m nosey,” she said simply and with a little shrug.

Daisy straightened my hair to smooth it and put a slight wave in with a curling iron. It was casual and pretty and swished when I turned my head. She kept with the minimal makeup look and applied a foundation, some glittery bronzer, a subtle smokey eye and a shimmery nude eyeshadow.

Clothing options were laid out on my bed, and she rifled through them before turning to me. “I honestly don’t know what to dress you in because I can’t see your body shape.”

I looked down at my jeans and pink t-shirt. My body was slim to minimize pain in my reconstructed joints, but I had a healthy hourglass shape. I was a jeans and t-shirt girl when I wasn’t in my running gear, and I didn’t flaunt my shape. It occasionally invited conversation if I wore a flattering outfit. I shrugged and took off my shirt to stand in front of her in my bra. I wasn’t self-conscious of my body, and I technically wore more revealing clothes when I ran than this simple bra.

She whistled. “Oh girl, you are beautiful!”

I blushed and looked at the clothes on my bed. “Um, I like that black top.”

She held out a black, backless halter top that tied around the neck and mid-back. It’s not a top I would have bought myself, but I knew it would look cute on me. She looked thoughtful as I put it on and then removed my bra.

“I was going to say a pair of lighter jeans would look cute, but your dark ones look great,” she said and had me spin around. “You have a great ass. I’m jealous.”

I laughed and blushed again.

“Shoes!” she shouted and dug through her bags to pull out a pair of black stilettos.

I hesitated before taking them. Walking would be easy in a pair of wedge heels or traditional pumps, but I had not tried stilettos. I was worried about my balance and coordination with my injuries. I would at least try. Worst comes to worst, I could take them off and go barefoot.

Daisy changed her mind on my hair and put it up in a loose and delicate bun on top of my head as I stepped into the stilettos. Even wearing the heels that were a little too big on me, she was tall enough to reach the top of my head. I was only five feet tall and in these heels I was five feet four inches.

Daisy stepped back to admire her work. “Absolutely fuckable,” she moaned, and I laughed. “But I think I’m going after Ev tonight.”

“Oh?” I said, my voice hoarse.

“Yeah, I have to test my theory about the cowboy thing,” she said and picked out a short red dress and a pair of black stilettos for herself.

We arrived at the party at nearly ten after Everett forced us all to eat a heavy pasta dinner and the party was in full swing. Music blared from inside the large home that had Greek lettering on the front door.

“Okay nerdies, we meet at the kitchen sink at midnight and decide what we’re doing next. Can you set alarms on your phones?” Daisy said as we parked Marie Curie next to the dozen ‌other golf carts.

The three of us all showed her our wrists where we all wore watches.

“Nerdies!” she tipped her head back and laughed. “Who even wears watches that aren’t Rolex anymore?!”

“It’s a G shock,” Nate informed her like she was missing some vital information.

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