4
After a couple of hours spent helping us unpack and a long, drawn-out goodbye full of hugs and tears from everyone, Luna and I are standing in the parking lot, watching my parents drive away.
A large part of me wants to chase them down and beg them to take me home, back to my childhood bedroom, back to my comfortable, predictable life with my comfortable, predictable boyfriend.
As if reading my thoughts, Luna wraps her arm tightly around my shoulders and gently pulls me toward the building and away from the parking lot.
The courtyard is buzzing with activity. Sam is setting up what looks like the sound system, helped by another guy whose tanned skin glistens with sweat as he lifts one of the speakers. His brown hair is short and effortlessly styled, like James Dean.
He places the speaker on the ground and looks up as he dusts his hands on the back of his black jeans.
We lock eyes, and he smiles, the type of smile that buckles your knees and makes you forget your name.
It spreads to his deep chocolate-coloured eyes and reveals dimples I want to reach out and touch. He’s beautiful.
He turns his head to look back at Sam, continuing their discussion, and just like that, the connection is gone, and I’m left wondering if it happened at all or if he was merely amused by the sad, puffy-faced child who looks completely lost without her mummy and daddy.
I let out a sigh and, shaking away my thoughts, I allow Luna to guide me back into the apartment and slump down on the couch while she hurries over to the fridge.
“I knew you would be sad when your parents left, so I took it upon myself to get us some drinks to cheer you up!” Luna spins around, holding up two bottles of Prosecco.
Sensing that she hasn’t pierced through my melancholy, she places the bottles on the kitchen bench.
“Come on, Abi, it’s our first night in our apartment together.
We’re not just best friends anymore. We’re roommates! ”
She runs over to the couch and flings her body on top of mine, smothering my face in kisses. I laugh and shove her away onto the floor. Luna energetically jumps up in one swift movement and rushes over to pour the drinks.
Glasses in hand, we squeeze into our new tiny bathroom to get ready for the party.
Luckily, the puffiness of my eyes has gone down, and, as we stand side by side, I begin to apply a small amount of concealer.
While I usually keep things simple, with a light layer of mascara to highlight my eyes and a touch of lip gloss, Luna approaches her makeup choices almost as if it’s an expression of art.
Her face is a blank canvas, and tonight is no exception.
She sweeps thick black eyeliner across her eyelids, coupled with dark green eyeshadow, which matches her emerald eyes.
Her straight red hair bounces just below her bare shoulders as she fiddles with her bangs.
Luna screws up her face as I pull my long brown hair up into a ponytail.
“Your hair is so beautiful when you leave it down and naturally wavy. I would kill for those waves. But you know, do what you want. It’s your hair.
” She turns back to the mirror and drags a tan-coloured lipstick over her puckered lips.
I let my hair fall back down and attempt to pat some of the frizz out.
Happy that it’s as good as it’s going to get, I pinch Luna’s lipstick, squeeze myself out of the bathroom and walk towards my bedroom to get changed.
Luna already looks fantastic in tight black jeans, ankle boots and a green strapless silk top.
I flick through the clothes in my wardrobe and silently wish I had her sense of style, as well as her slender hips and toned arms. The mythical thigh gap has always managed to elude me.
My boobs are too big, always the first thing Mum tuts her tongue at disapprovingly when I try on clothes.
Opting for an oversized dark grey t-shirt, half tucked into an old pair of jeans, and sneakers, I head into Luna’s room to get her seal of approval.
She’s sitting on her bed, scrolling through her phone.
I clear my throat to get her attention, and when she looks up, her face drops.
“You know what you’d look hot in?” Luna stands and reaches into her wardrobe, pulling out a pair of black mini-shorts that have me shaking my head. I would never be able to pull those off. Just imagining my thick thighs spilling out of the material makes me break out into hives.
“Come on, Abs. Please. Just try it on. For me?” Luna bats her eyelashes at me.
I let out a sigh as I take the shorts from her, knowing that she won’t give up unless I try them on.
After laboriously pulling off my shoes and jeans and placing them in a neat pile on the edge of her bed, I wiggle my way into the shorts, wincing.
They almost don’t go up over my thighs. I knew they wouldn’t fit right.
Luna takes a step back, looks me up and down and spins me around.
“Who knew you had such a fabulous booty?” She playfully taps my butt before ushering me over to her full-length mirror.
If Luna says I look good, then I must. If I have any hope of one day being as confident as her, I have to put my own doubts aside and trust her.
I slip on a pair of her boots, pull my shoulders back, and look at my reflection.
I don’t look like me. I like it. And she’s right, my butt does look good.
“Now put this top on, and we’re good to go!” Luna says, throwing a white tank in my direction. I hold up the small top in my hands and attempt to swallow the hard lump that has formed in my throat.
“I may need another drink before heading out there,” I say, adjusting my breasts in an attempt to stop them from spilling out of the top.
Luna laughs and tips her glass back, pouring the rest of the bubbling liquid into her mouth. I do the same and place my glass on the bench before taking her hand and following her out into the party. As long as I stay close to Luna, I’ll be alright.
Stepping into the courtyard is like stepping into another world. My eyes are drawn to strings of fairy lights hung around the palms, turning the area into a magical wonderland. There are people everywhere, shouting over the music, making the collective volume overwhelming.
“Luna,” I start to say, turning my attention back to her, but she’s already been swallowed by the crowd. I call out her name again, but not even I can hear my words over the thumping bass.