Chapter 26 #2
“You think so?”
She shrugged. “Yeah. What’s the problem?”
Yeah. What’s the problem? Go on, June, you can do it, I told myself, turning around. I took off my hoodie, then my bra.
I didn’t know exactly what Tiffany was doing, but she definitely was staring at me. I felt her deep-set eyes survey my back. I hoped I didn’t seem like a chronic klutz. I put my white bra on the bed and put on the black one she loaned me.
“Isn’t it a bit much?”
I stared at my chest, perplexed.
“Wait.”
She came closer to help me lift it slightly on its sides.
“Like this, see?”
“Shouldn’t a bra be kept inside?” I frowned, making her chuckle genuinely.
“It should enhance them, and this one does.”
“If you say so.”
Tiffany handed me the tiny piece of fabric she held in her hands.
“Now the dress.”
I ended up looking at my legs. For god’s sake, I couldn’t take my shorts off in front of Tiffany. Who knew if someone like her knew stretch marks exist. I cautiously unbuttoned them then glanced at my lower stomach. I thought about my inner thigh apprehensively.
If only they were just stretch marks.
I ended up putting the dress on first then taking off my shorts from under it after that. Weirdly, Tiffany didn’t tease me for the goofy scene I’d just made, but she helped me adjust the dress, which ended up being particularly tight around the waist.
“Poor Will, I wouldn’t want to be him on tonight. He’ll die of a heart attack.” She smiled as a hint of mischief glinted in her eyes.
And after putting both of her hands on my hips, then she made me turn toward the full-length mirror.
“Fan-tas-tic,” she articulated triumphantly.
“It’s a little too forward for my taste.”
“You don’t like it?”
“I didn’t say that, just, it doesn’t seem to suit me,” I clarified.
“I think that’s just because you’re bare faced.
You look like a Goody Two-shoes. You just need a little liner, then put up your hair, and you’ll be ready.
” Tiffany made everything easy when in reality I couldn’t even put a little lipstick on without it smearing.
But she must’ve guessed that because she took the liberty of fixing my hair.
She shook my messy bun out and tried to put it into a gathered updo.
“And if you don’t like it I can give you beach waves.”
I nodded, trusting her expert hands because up until now Tiffany had done nothing but improve me so much that I didn’t even recognize myself.
“Let’s see what I can do with this.”
She started heating up the curling iron and I was startled when I realized how similar it was to mine. The shape, the smooth metal, and no spikes. While we waited for it to get to the right temperature, Tiffany grabbed her makeup bag out of her backpack.
“You’re so lucky your hair is straight,” she said then, getting the tangles out of my hair with her fingers.
“I’d actually like it to be wavy like yours.”
Tiffany licked her lips and meticulously applied lipstick to my mouth.
“Sit down.”
She pointed at James’s bed, where I reluctantly sat down.
“Have you known James for a while?” I asked, continuing to look around while she curled my hair. I’d already been in that room, but now I noticed things that I hadn’t caught before. The scent was the same. The mix of fresh laundry, vanilla, and male hormones. There were no photos.
The light was cool, almost bluish.
“What do you want to know, June?”
“What does he like?” I asked her without even thinking about it.
“Other than drugs, sex, and fighting?” Tiffany smiled as she said that, even though she wasn’t really joking.
My thoughts went right to my mom. I judged her for being with Jordan, but I wasn’t that different since I was in the room next door.
“He likes excess,” explained Tiffany, continuing to arrange my hair. “And if you can’t make him feel something more, there’s not much you can do with someone like him.”
“Is that why I saw him making out with a guy?”
“Oh no, no.” She burst out laughing, throwing her head back. “He’s always liked those.”
We heard footsteps in the hall; Tiffany gave me the curling iron and went to the door.
“I’m still not done. Give me two more minutes,” she said to James, who was already grumbling and annoyed. “What are you drinking?” taunted Tiffany. “Don’t you and Will have to stay sober tonight?”
“So what?” he countered apathetically.
“So the coach doesn’t go ballistic.”
“The coach can suck my dick, Tiff.”
“You know that you can’t let yourself get kicked off the football team,” Tiffany said maternally, and James scoffed at her.
“What are you worried about?”
“You’re always the same. Gimme two more minutes.”
Tiffany closed the door and went back to finishing my hair.
“The coach can suck my dick, Tiff,” she repeated, imitating James’s gruff voice.
We both burst out laughing, until my curiosity got the best of me again.
“What were you guys talking about?”
“Nothing, there’s gonna be a surprise doping test for the whole football team.”
“It doesn’t seem like much of a surprise since you guys all know about it,” I said sarcastically.
“Someone blabbed to Jackson.” Someone named Blaze.
“Well, I can tell this coach doesn’t scare them that much.” I hazarded a guess.
“Oh, yeah, he does. Besides, think about it for a second. What university do you think would want someone who spent a year in juvie?”
There wasn’t much to think about; the answer was clear to me. No college would admit him.
“And the same goes for the others. What Ivy would accept two guys with a string of acts of vandalism on their résumé?”
I turned around all at once and stared at Tiffany perplexed.
“Are you talking about—”
“Oh yeah. I’m talking about Will and Jackson. And if the principal hates them, the football coach is the only one who can save their skins and ensure a scholarship at a good school.”
“So the coach tries to keep them on the straight and narrow for their future?”
“Well, they’re rich, white, privileged males. And, yeah, the coach is an asshole because he knows some of them can only count on football for scholarships. That’s why he can be such an asshole.”
The world’s unfair, June. My dad had told me that in tears on the day of my brother’s funeral. And it was true.
Someone like me would’ve needed perfect behavior, superhigh grades, and a whole lot of luck to get into Yale. Meanwhile, they couldn’t even be bothered to turn in their homework, and their futures were already secured. Not to mention everything they did when they weren’t at school.
Unfair.
“What do you mean, Tiff? About the coach?”
“A guy showed up to practice with eyeliner, and he kicked him off the team.”
“Are you kidding?” I jumped up incredulously.
“No. He still thinks guys should be and behave in a certain way.” There was the toxic masculinity that James’s group and friends were sucked into. Maybe that was where it all started.
“Look, June, the dear old coach doesn’t know what his perfect little men like to do.” She giggled mischievously.
Was she talking about James or Jackson?
I cleared my throat, but I didn’t have the guts to ask her.
“For god’s sake.” Tiffany let out an expletive when she dragged me in front of the mirror.
“What is it?” I asked confused, gazing at my shapely figure stretched in that particularly provocative dress.
“So much untapped potential behind that good girl front,” she whispered, pointing at my reflection.
“Thank you for the backhanded compliment.”
She brought her face close to mine.
“I’d never insult you, June. I’m just saying that if you wanted to, you could enhance yourself more. But—”
“What?”
I let my eyes meet hers. I didn’t know why, but I liked the look we exchanged. The way that Tiffany looked at me made me feel beautiful.
“You have a pretty face, June.”
I jumped when Tiffany caressed my bare shoulder. Her delicate fingertips grazed my skin, and my eyes locked onto her full, red lips, which looked like two ripe cherries.
“Even without makeup.”
James barged into the room with the grace of an elephant. “Are you done or should I get you guys a hotel room?” Tiffany and I immediately backed away from each other.
“Did you really make me a sandwich?” she exclaimed all happy.
“The hell I did. It’s—”
James was at a loss for words for a few moments when our eyes met.
“—mine.”
The way that James looked at me was nothing like the tender way Tiffany put her velvety eyes on me.
There wasn’t that sweetness. I felt overwhelmed by a warm wave that emptied my head, made my hands shake and my stomach clench.
It can’t be, June. In the movies and novels I often read, the bad boy was won over by the good girl’s unexpected beauty, turning him into the model boyfriend.
The reality was completely different. James was used to really attractive, bold girls.
Tiffany was one of them. I watched him devour his sandwich with his eyes glued to the screen, while she finished dolling me up.
“Earrings yes or no?”
I shook my head no.
“Let’s go. I’m pissed off, I’ve been ready for half an hour,” he urged, annoyed.
James pushed me with his shoulder, offhandedly taking my place in front of the mirror.
I couldn’t help but look at him as he buttoned up his white shirt, satisfied with his own reflection.
When Tiffany went to the bathroom to reapply her makeup, James and I took advantage of her absence to stare maliciously at each other.
“What is it?” I asked nervously.
I should’ve slapped him for the almost indecent way he was looking at my body. Instead I felt a shiver when he smiled.
“Fucking nothing. Why are you asking?”
I took advantage of that moment to ask him something else. “What kind of party is it?”
“Why do you care?”
“Because I wanna know where I’m going. I don’t even have an invite.”
“You’re coming with me. Nobody will have anything to say, Snow White.”
“Ma—”
I watched him take two steps toward me, looming over me.
“Did you think I’d leave you in my room to pick up my boxers?”
“Eww,” I retorted indignantly.
“Yeah, yeah, eww.”
I wiggled away from his imposing figure before he could push me against a wall like he usually did, and walked in front of him without even looking at him.
“And you put on cologne like that—”
I saw him turn around to follow my footsteps.
“So?”
“And you’re wearing makeup—”
His tone was increasingly amused. But who was I kidding?
I looked like a clown. Tiffany was so convincing making me believe I was beautiful that for a moment I’d thought so too.
I wanted to tell James to quit treating me like a kid or a little sister, but I ended up just glaring at him.
“After you, White,” he whispered, biting his lip, before pointing at the door.