Rimmel

Ivy was waiting for me in our room like I knew she would be. When I walked in, she practically attacked me.

“Ohmigod,” she gushed, running her words together. “You have been holding out on me!”

I gave her a look. “What do you mean?”

“He did not give you that hoodie because you were cold.”

I sighed. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on between us, if anything.”

“Didn’t look like ‘if anything’ to me.” She pulled out her phone and held the screen out for me to see. “Even the latest Buzz is about you two.”

Hashtag heart? That was totally charming.

But I needed to remember we weren’t together, not officially.

“It probably didn’t look that way when you were making out with him at the bonfire,” I said coolly.

She snapped her mouth shut. I rummaged around to get some PJs. Once I found them, I grabbed my little tote full of my bathroom stuff and went to the shared bathroom to brush my teeth and get ready for bed.

I wore Romeo’s shirt to the bathroom, then I put it back on once I had my sleep shorts and tank on. Everyone stared at me. I ignored them all. The thing was I was better off doing this than hiding in my room. I’d been hiding for the last almost six years of my life. I was tired of it.

A couple girls smiled at me on the way out and I smiled back. I couldn’t help but wonder if they were only being nice because of Romeo.

Ivy was in her pajamas when I got back to the room. I set my stuff aside and grabbed my book and got into bed.

“About Romeo…” she said.

I looked up. “Is that why you’re suddenly being nice? Because you think being near me will give you another shot with him?”

She was taken aback by my frankness. I sort of was too. But Romeo seemed to be concerned about girls and how they were going to treat me. And part of me wondered who else he was worried about so much that he felt the need to plaster his name on me like I was a piece of property.

“I’ve always been nice to you.” Her voice was mildly hurt, and I had a pang of doubt.

“Yeah.” I agreed. “You have. But you’ve never wanted to sit with me at lunch or asked me to go to a football game.”

She glanced down into her lap. “Honestly?”

“That would be nice,” I said.

“When I first saw his shirt on your bed and you said you were tutoring him, the thought ran through my mind.”

I nodded.

“But that was before I saw him with you. He’s totally into you.”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” I muttered.

She gave me a look. “We both know you aren’t his usual type.”

She was right. It was the same thing I kept telling myself.

“I don’t really understand either.” I admitted.

Her face softened. “Your wardrobe could use some serious help. And a brush would definitely help your hair,” she said, and I laughed. “But you’re a really good person, Rimmel. You just need to let people in.”

I frowned.

“You’ve kind of been closed off. You don’t make it easy for people to get to know you or be your friend.”

I couldn’t argue with that because I was closed off. I had been for many years. The reason I didn’t have any friends was because I never let anyone close enough.

“Romeo’s kind of been the ice breaker. He makes you a little more approachable.”

That surprised me. “He does?”

“Well, duh.” She rolled her eyes. “He is so totally gorgeous.”

I giggled. “He really is hot.”

We both laughed.

“I won’t lie. You being with Romeo and us being friends will totally help my social life,” she said after we quieted. “But even if you weren’t with him—or whatever you are—I would still hang out with you.”

“Really?” I asked, looking her in the eye.

“Really.”

I believed her. She didn’t try to feed me some lame story about how she was happy for me and how we’d always been the best of friends. I felt like she said the truth.

Besides, it would be nice to have a friend.

“Thanks, Ivy,” I said.

She smiled. “So are you coming to the Omega party now?”

“He asked me to.”

She squealed. “Good! Now I’ll have someone to hang with when Missy gets all hot and heavy with Braeden.”

“She really likes him, huh?”

Ivy nodded. “Oh yeah, more than she’ll admit, but I know.”

“Yeah. I noticed too.”

“I just hope she doesn’t get hurt. Guys like him don’t always stick around.”

Her words speared me. I knew we were talking about Braeden, but Romeo was his best friend. They were certainly a lot alike.

My face must have given away my thoughts because she immediately said, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

I smiled. “No. It’s totally fine. It’s true. I hope Missy doesn’t get hurt.”

And I also hoped I didn’t either.

The next day seemed to drag by until classes were over and I went to the shelter. When I was there, time always seemed to fly. Ivy texted me early in the evening… and kept texting until I told her I’d come home and help her pick out an outfit.

She couldn’t possibly want my help. We both knew I was a total fashion victim.

I was getting nervous for tonight. I’d never been to a frat party before. I wasn’t really sure what to expect. I told myself it was probably a lot like the bonfire when Ivy called me to come pick her up. That didn’t seem too bad. It seemed like there was a lot of places I could find to hide out.

After I spent some time with Murphy and a few of the other cats, I went back to the dorm. Ivy had clothes all over her bed and piled on her floor. She easily had triple the amount I had.

“What took you so long?” she said when I walked in. “I have nothing to wear!”

“Looks like you have half a department store,” I observed.

“I am not wearing shorts,” she said, looking over her stuff. “I froze my ass off last time.”

“So wear jeans,” I said and sat on the bed. My stomach fluttered with anxiety and I glanced at the clock. I wasn’t sure what time Romeo was coming to get me, but I knew it wouldn’t be for a while yet.

I hadn’t talked to him all day. I kind of liked the break. Not that I didn’t want to talk to him—I did. I thought about him constantly. But it was nice to have a breather and actually be able to think for a little while without being taken in by his compelling sapphire eyes.

Ivy pulled out a pair of strategically ripped-up jeans in a faded blue shade and shimmied them on. She had a lot more curves than I did and filled out her jeans in all the right places.

“I like those,” I said. “You look good.”

“Yeah?” she asked and looked in the mirror.

I nodded. Then she went rummaging through her tops and tried on about five—that all looked good—before she decided on one that was tight, low-cut, and black. Next she added about twenty bracelets to her wrist, a pair of gold hoop earrings, and a pair of black boots.

She made looking good seem effortless.

“What are you wearing?” she asked as she plopped down in front of a makeup mirror and picked up her foundation.

“This?” I asked.

She spun in her seat. “No. Absolutely not.”

“What’s wrong with it?” I asked.

“You’re wearing sweatpants,” she said like it was obvious.

“It’s cold out…” I said.

She muttered something under her breath and picked up her phone and hit a bunch of buttons. Then she turned back to the mirror and started making up her face. “Put on those black leggings you have.”

“What black leggings?” I asked.

She rolled her eyes. “The ones you sleep in.”

“You want me to wear pajamas?” I gaped. That was worse than sweatpants.

“Leggings aren’t sleepwear.” She paused, then added, “Well, to anyone but you.”

I gave her a look.

“Did you buy them in the pajama section at the store?”

“No,” I said and sighed.

“Put them on,” she ordered. “Then put on a white T-shirt. The least baggy one you have.”

I didn’t argue because I really didn’t care what I wore. I did worry about how cold I was going to be in just a T-shirt, though.

She finished up her makeup a few minutes later, looking gorgeous as always. “Sit,” she said, pointing to the chair she just vacated.

“I’m not wearing makeup,” I said. I had no idea how to apply it or where any of it went.

“I’m going to do your hair,” she said.

I was okay with that. I plopped down and she pulled it out of the bun and started brushing it out. It was so long it fell halfway down my back. It was dark, the color of chestnuts, and once she had it all brushed out, it shined in the light.

Ivy produced a large wand-looking thing that was plugged into the wall and started wrapping my hair around it. “Seriously,” she said as she worked, “if I had hair like this, I would totally rock it every day.”

“You’d totally be annoyed by it every day.” I corrected.

“It’s all about the products,” she said and launched into some lesson about shampoo and conditioner. I only half listened.

Halfway through curling my hair, there was a knock on the door, and my stomach dropped. Was that Romeo already?

“Come in!” Ivy called, and Missy slipped into the room. She had a small tote over her shoulder.

“Hey,” Ivy called. “Look at this bitch’s hair,” she said, stepping back and pointing at me with that thing in her hand.

Missy shook her head and sighed. “It’s a damn shame.”

“Does it look bad?” I worried, trying to crane my neck to see in the mirror.

Ivy pushed me back in the seat. “Hell no. It’s awesome. That’s why it’s a shame. You don’t even appreciate it.”

Missy made a sound in the back of her throat like she agreed.

“Did you bring it?” Ivy asked her.

“It’s in my bag.”

She nodded and kept working. They chattered on about Braeden and other people they knew who I did not, and I totally tuned out. I was glad Ivy had someone to talk to other than me for a change. I really liked her, but she talked a lot.

After what felt like forever, she put the curling thing down and made me flip my head upside down. She ran her fingers through the locks, messing up everything she’d just done. Made no sense to me.

When I flipped it back up, she and Missy made appreciative sounds and she added some kind of clear, slippery stuff to her fingers and worked it in. Then she sprayed it with a bunch of hairspray she promised wouldn’t make my hair feel stiff.

I didn’t tell her this was the first time I’d ever had someone style my hair (other than the day she braided it). I barely ever went to get it trimmed. That’s why it was so long. When I did, I just left the place with it still wet and let it air-dry.

“I’m totally jealous,” Ivy said, standing back to admire her work.

“Thanks for doing that,” I said, praying I didn’t look like a Chia pet or something.

I stood up to go look in the mirror.

“Wait!” Missy said and jumped up from my bed. She was wearing a pair of black skinny jeans, sky-high heels, and red top with a thin black belt that fastened just below her breasts. She reached in the bag she brought and withdrew the velvet leopard blazer she had on the other day. “Here, wear this,” she said.

I looked at the jacket and then back at her. “You want me to wear that?”

“You said you liked it,” she replied.

“I do.”

She nodded. “You can totally borrow it. It will make that outfit.”

“Thanks,” I said, getting a little choked up. All this girl time was making me emotional. I slipped it on. It was just as soft on the inside as it was on the outside.

“Looks so good.” Missy beamed.

“Here,” Ivy said and handed over my brown fur-lined boots.

“Do those match?” I asked.

“Yes,” both girls said simultaneously.

I slid them on, grateful for the warmth. Then I went to the mirror to see.

I did a double take at my own reflection.

It seemed impossible it was me.

But it was.

I just stood there and stared, unable to say anything.

Ivy and Missy high-fived and then went back to talking about whatever.

My hair never looked so pretty. It hung in loose curls over my shoulders and down my back. It was parted off to the side and looked shiny and sleek, just like I always wanted it to (but it never did). For once, my black-rimmed glasses didn’t appear to take over my entire face, but seemed to have a bit of balance. I turned a little to admire the way the glossy curls fell down my back and caught the light.

The black leggings totally worked as an actual outfit. They were comfortable and didn’t make me feel like I was trying to be someone I wasn’t. They hugged my body because that’s what leggings did, but the tan boots came halfway up my calves and the white T-shirt was loose enough that it covered most of my butt. The blazer was a little looser on me than it had been on Missy, but it still looked nice. It seemed to make me look like I had more of a shape than I actually did. It ended up above my hips and the warm brown and black seemed to play off my hair and boots.

My face was makeup free, but I went to my bag and pulled out some vanilla lip balm and smoothed it on to give my lips a slight shine.

It’s amazing how a hairstyle and a beautiful outfit could make me feel. I wished my mother could see me. I wondered if she would have been proud.

Just thinking of her reminded me of something I’d kept in the top drawer of my dresser, hidden away for years. I went to it now and pulled it out carefully, sliding it over my head, taking care to slip it beneath all my hair. I turned to Ivy and asked, “Does this match?”

She turned and smiled. “It’s perfect.”

Missy nodded.

It was a pendant on a long gold chain, made to look like a cameo brooch. It was large and oval, with a black background and an ornate golden frame. In the center was the silhouette of a woman carved out in white. The detail on the lady was amazing.

The piece had been my mother’s. I still remembered her wearing it.

Tonight would be the first time I’d ever let myself wear it anywhere other than my room.

A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door. My pulse jumped and my stomach dropped. I knew it was Romeo. I could feel it.

Ivy gave me a look and bounced to the door to answer. “Hey,” she said, still holding the door only partially open. I heard his deeper voice on the other side and my teeth sank into my lower lip.

“She’s over there,” Ivy said and opened the door all the way.

My palms felt sweaty and I resisted the urge to wipe them down my thighs. My eyes glued to his face the second he appeared and my nerves increased tenfold as I wondered what he would think about the way I looked.

His eyes saw me, then kept going, totally passing right by. My ego stung a little because I hadn’t earned just a little bit of a longer look.

But then he seemed to jerk and his eyes flew back to where I stood.

I smiled.

His eyes widened and recognition slammed into him. He hadn’t realized it was me. But now he did. He stepped a little closer as Ivy giggled, and his stare ate up my face and hair. Then his gaze traveled down my body all the way to my toes, reversed, and traveled back up again.

“Holy shit,” he breathed. Then he seemed to catch himself and hurried to say, “You look beautiful.”

I laughed. “Thanks.”

“Well, my work here is done,” Ivy said. “When you get to the party, Rimmel, come find us.”

“You aren’t riding with us?” I said nervously.

Romeo frowned but then turned to the girls and said, “You can if you want.”

I worried Missy’s eyes might fall out of her head. And when Romeo’s gaze seemed to settle on her, it only got worse. “Braeden picking you up?”

“No,” she answered. “I’m riding with Ivy.”

“All right,” he said, motioning to all of us. “Let’s go.”

“I don’t mind driving,” Ivy hurried to say. “You two can be alone.”

He seemed to debate and glanced at me. His eyes roamed my body again, and he frowned. “No,” he finally said. “Ride with me. Then Rimmel won’t have to try and find you in the crowd.”

Ivy looked at me as if to ask if it was okay. I nodded.

“We’ll meet you downstairs,” she said, and she and Missy left the room.

Romeo looked at me and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “I knew you were beautiful, but damn, Rimmel,” he muttered. “I’m kind of having second thoughts about taking you around all those drunk frat guys.”

“Do I really look that different?” I asked.

He cocked his head to the side. “Actually, you look more like you than I’ve ever seen.”

I wrinkled my nose. That didn’t make sense.

“I mean, your outside matches your inside.”

“Thank you,” I said, touched by the statement.

“So everything with you and Ivy?” he asked.

“It’s really good.”

He nodded. I moved to walk past him, and he caught me around the waist. His lips crushed against mine instantly, kissing me fiercely.

I melted against him and kissed him back with everything I had. His hands came up to bury themselves in my hair and he groaned low in his throat. I reached between his jacket and shirt to wrap my arms around his waist.

After a few minutes of intense kissing, he released me and set me away.

“If we don’t leave right now, we never will.”

At the door, he stopped and turned. “I need the thing I gave you to hold.”

I dug it from beneath my mattress and held it out. He grinned and reached for it, but I hesitated, then glanced inside the front of my blazer. There was a pocket, so I slid the nameplate inside. “I’ll hold it ‘til we get there.”

“You sure?” he asked.

I nodded.

He held out his hand and I placed mine in his.

“You ready for your first frat party?” he asked.

Ready or not, here I come.