“Katy, you look great.” Lisa reaches up and pulls my hair over my shoulders so the wavy strands sit on top of my boobs. “I love this look on you.” She tugs on the half-shirt until my breasts nearly pop out of the top. No matter how I wear the strip of fabric, something is going to show. It’s virtually a decorative ace bandage. Worn too high, and I show my stomach. Worn too low, and the dusky pink of my nipples are at risk of exposure.

As she tugs the shirt down, I tug my skirt up and mentally chastise myself for letting her give me a makeover. “Are you sure this looks good?” I stare down at my outfit, which is better suited for a shift serving beers at The Tilted Kilt than a trip back to college.

Lisa scans the surrounding crowd. “The guy at three o’clock can’t keep his eyes off you.” She looks to her left. “Nine o’clock is lusting after those legs.”

I take a quick look at three and nine. She’s right, their eyes are on me, or rather my boobs, and the place where my skirt hits mid-thigh. “I’m sure they’re just waiting for the peep show to start.”

She pulls her finger to her chin. “Now, that’s a thought. Maybe you can swirl those hips or bend over and give someone a peek for dollars. I know a lot of girls who have done worse things for tuition.” She moves her hands down to my skirt, and she gives it a tug so my midriff shows.

I swat her hands away. “I’m on scholarship. I’m not dancing for dollars.” I glance at Mr. Nine O’clock and watch him pull out his wallet. Mortified that he’ll toss me a single, I yank my sister behind the flight departures sign.

“You look beautiful.” She looks at me like a proud parent, and in all honesty, we basically raised ourselves. I’ve always looked up to her for guidance. “Seriously, Katy, it’s your senior year of college. You’ve had your face buried in books for the last three years. You need to have fun. Getting a makeover is part of that fun. Take your new look, and make some heads turn.”

She walks with me toward security. I have to admit that the new look does turn heads. I take a quick glance at my reflection in a store window just to make sure there isn’t something on my face. I have to concede I look pretty good when I’m fixed up. When my glasses aren’t perched on the end of my nose. When my hair isn’t in a messy bun on top of my head held up by a chewed on pencil.

Men seem to like the expanse of my leg, the curve of my breasts, and the highlights on my hair. On the outside, Lisa has turned me into a semi-hot college co-ed. She picked clothes that would accent my strongest features. Big boobs, small waist, and wide hips. That’s her job as a stylist. She makes people look their best, but what happens when the outside is at complete odds with the inside?

“I feel weird having all this attention.” We stop in front of the TSA line to say goodbye. It’s a short flight from Shuttlesworth to Atlanta and then I'm on my way to Denver. The next time I see my big sister will be at graduation, provided I actually get to graduate, which isn’t a certainty at this point if I don’t pass my writing class.

“You feel weird good or weird bad?” The last thing Lisa would ever do is intentionally make me feel like less when she’s worked so hard to make me feel like more. What I feel now is something completely foreign to me.

I rub my lips together, spreading the shiny crimson gloss around.

“I feel pretty.”

Her face lights up with a wide grin. “You are pretty. Promise me you’ll have fun this year. Step out of your comfort zone. Try something new. Be carefree and a little careless.”

“You’re asking a mouse to become a lion,” I say.

“Not at all. I’m asking my sister to not take things so seriously. Let loose. In fifty years, when you reflect back on this time in your life, you’ll be glad you did. No one on their death bed says, I wish I would have studied harder for that test.”

I laugh because she's right. “If you could go back and do something different in school what would it be?”

Lisa chews her lip for a second. Her eyes grow wide, and she gives me a cat ate the canary smile. “I would have slept with the Benson twins.”

I pull my hand to my mouth and gasp. “Both… at the same time?”

She nods her head with so much enthusiasm I’m sure she’ll have whiplash by nightfall. “Why not? Live on the edge.”

I pull my sister in for a big hug. “I’ll think about it.”

She whispers in my ear. “Think hard and long.” She pulls back and waggles her brow. “While you’re thinking, that elusive big O remains elusive.”

I push back and shake my head. “I should have never told you that I’ve never…” I look back and forth and all around us to make sure no one is listening. “...you know.”

“Come,” she says way too loud. When people turn to stare at us, she finishes with, “now, Katy, you don’t want to miss your plane.”

I want to hit her over the head with my backpack, but I draw her in for another hug and tell her goodbye.

She gives my strip of cloth another tug and pushes me toward the TSA line that winds around like a snake. Once I’m through security, I lift up on my tiptoes to see her final wave.

Less than an hour later, I’m in Atlanta heading for my next gate when a voice over the intercom announces that because of inclement weather, all flights to Denver have been cancelled.