Chapter 4 #2
I shimmy into my nude tights and attempt to stuff myself into the green velvet, feeling like a pig in a blanket. My boobs are practically spilling out of the heart-shaped bust.
“I almost forgot.” She grins. “There’s a skirt.”
I roll my eyes at her and snatch the remaining piece of my outfit, but the skirt isn’t doing me any favors.
“This doesn’t look appropriate.” I study my reflection in my full-length antique mirror. One of the only pieces belonging to my Meemaw that I kept. The skirt is short and rigid, sticking out from my hips like an umbrella flipped inside out in a windstorm.
My bestie argues, stepping toward me holding my makeup bag in what some might perceive to be in a threatening manner with the way she’s waving my tube of mascara around like a weapon.
Sydney doesn’t understand what it’s like for me.
She’s always been tall, skinny, and blond.
Opposite of me, who is thick, short, and dark-haired.
“It’s meant to be tight. Do you want to catch Nick’s eye or not? ”
I do. I’m just not sure this is the way I want to do it, but I told myself I’d start taking more chances.
Ever since that horrid experience with Scotty, I’ve not bothered to date.
Not that anyone has been knocking down my door to ask me out.
Sure, I have my text buddy, but they’ve never made themselves known to me.
I know what people think. They believe that I know what happened to Scotty, or that I was part of it.
“I can’t believe I let you convince me to do this. ” I feel silly.
Sydney swipes a finger through my blush, testing the color against her inner wrist. “Because I’m persuasive. And you know this may be your only shot at catching Nick’s attention before he goes off and gets engaged to some fancy pants rich girl like Gretchen Sanderson.”
I scrunch my nose up at the mention of her. “She’s not his type.” I lie more for my benefit than hers. Nick dated Gretchen in high school. She allegedly cheated on him while she was on summer vacation, and they broke up shortly after. That was years ago.
He’s dated other people since then. Not me, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t go for me.
“She’s rich, and money attracts money.”
I frown, worrying my bottom lip with my teeth. I definitely don’t come from money. Gretchen has always been an ‘it girl.’ I can’t compete with her.
The more I think about going through with this ridiculous idea, the more I want to say forget it. Nothing about this dress and using my curves to get the attention of a man sits right with me. But I have to know if he’s the one who has been sending me the text messages from an unknown number.
I think about the text messages. Whoever is sending them knows how to get my attention. If it is Nick, I’ll know, won’t I? Surely he won’t be able to resist dropping a hint or something.
I mean, that’s what got me into this mess. The last time I bumped into him at the post office, we shared a look. He winked when he saw my stack of book mail. But what if he had something in his eye and I misread the whole situation?
Sydney jabs an eyeliner pencil in my direction, nearly taking an eye out.
“Nick is kind of similar to one of those weird little arctic foxes, you know? Only comes out in the winter. This is your window, Hads. You have to strike now before he gets snatched up.” She snaps her fingers a bit too close to my eyes.
I blink and lean back.
Maybe she’s right. I won’t know if I don’t try. What if he really is my mystery guy?
“Now for the final touches.” She yanks my bun out and fluffs my medium-length dark locks around to frame my shoulders.
“Now, your ears.” She sticks a headband with fake elf ears on the sides of my head, adjusting my hair around them before plopping a sparkly green hat she must have bedazzled herself onto my head.
“Damn, babe. You’re so totally going to break every man in town’s heart. ”
She smiles at me, her ethereal blue eyes bulging with pure pride. As though I’m her latest creation at her art studio.
I cross my arms over my chest, which does absolutely nothing to hide my cleavage. It does the opposite and shows my girls off more. “I can’t do this. I look ridiculous.”
“Ridiculously hot.” She grins and makes a sizzling noise while pretending I’m hot to the touch. “Accept it. This is your Lainey Boggs moment,” she tells me, referring to one of our favorite movies. She’s All That.
“You mean my moment to get eyeballed by divorced dads and middle schoolers?”
“You’re going to send them into puberty.” She laughs. “Or be the beginning of a few midlife crises.”
“I’m glad you find my suffering so amusing.”
She snorts. “I mean, if you’re not leveraging your biggest assets at Santa Land, what are you even doing with your life?”
I groan and look at the green elf shoes she’s produced from her bag.
“How deep is that bag?” I raise a brow. “Do you have a new identity in there for me when this blows up in my face?”
“You know,” she says, her voice taking a demurer tone, “there’s nothing wrong with wanting attention, Hads. Especially from the one guy you’ve always crushed hard on.”
“You mean Nick.” I chew on my thumb. A nervous habit I’ve never been able to break.
“Duh. Who else would I be talking about? The guy has been making puppy eyes at you since middle school. Don’t tell me you forgot the Halloween party where he ‘accidentally’ bumped into you and spilled his hot chocolate on your shirt so he could give you his hoodie?”
Sydney has it wrong. That was Damon. Not Nick. I thought he did it because he was a jerk. Could there have been another reason? He used to always be hanging around but wasn’t really ever a part of our friend group.
I wonder what ever happened to him.
I don’t have time to think about it.
Sydney is all business as she lines my eyes with green glitter and dabs something rosy on the tip of my nose. I barely recognize myself, but Syd seems satisfied.
“There. Sexy and edgy, but cute. Perfect.”
“I’m nervous.”
She nudges me with her shoulder. “The only one who is going to be nervous is Nick when he is trying not to fall all over you. Trust me.”
I hope my bestie is right. For the first time all month, I’m actually looking forward to what happens next.
We leave my place and start down the snow-covered sidewalk, leaving twin imprints of our boots in our wake. There’s no way I’m wearing those elf booties until I have to.