Isla
I don’t know what to wear. My nerves are shrieking at the thought of having to go into some trendy bar with Ethan, and meet his friends. He says this friend of his might can help us figure out what’s going on. He’s convinced the issue is with someone coming after me or my dad. I’m not. Ethan is an arrogant arsehole who screws married women for money. How he can so easily dismiss the target of the other night being himself is beyond me. He says he’s looked into it, but he can’t have looked that far, or that deep in the short amount of time since the horrible event.
The horrible event I keep thinking about when I’m meant to be sleeping, and then getting all confused and turned on. And that kiss! I’ve never been kissed like that. I might be a virgin, but I’m not some idiot innocent like he seems to think. I’ve messed around with a few boys. Given a few hand jobs, even experienced one boy go down on me, which was okay, but I’m not sure he knew what he was doing. We were both eighteen, and he was a virgin, too. I watch porn and pleasure myself with my trusty vibrator or my g-spot stimulator.
I smile as I imagine Ethan’s shocked face if I tell him the things I get up to sometimes in my bedroom by myself.
The thing is, I may be a virgin, but I probably know what I like and what my body likes more than some girls who’ve been screwing since they were fifteen. I’ve been able to focus on my own pleasure and exploring my own needs, and from what little I hear from my friends, that’s not what happens with most guys. It’s all about them and what they want. About ticking off some stupid checklist where they have to have blow jobs, and then full on sex, and then anal, and then after that God knows what. They use women’s bodies as if they’re with a doll. I blame some of the porn they watch myself. I’ve seen enough of it when I’m surfing for the kind of stuff I like, to know there are plenty of men out there who only want their own satisfaction taken care of. Ethan is probably the same.
I don’t want or need hearts and flowers, but I do want someone who respects me, and wants to make it good for me. My body has been through so much, and I have a bloody healthy respect for it, and that extends to who I let in it. I’m not a virgin because I’m a prude. I’m a virgin because most of the time in my life when I should have been experimenting, I was sick. I’m shy at times, and awkward, so find it hard to meet people. From the small pool I have met, there’s been no one I want enough to go the whole way.
Sadly, the one guy I have met who I want enough is the worst guy I could pick. Sick of going around in circles thinking of Ethan, I start at the knock on the door.
Ann comes in and holds aloft a big, shiny box. It looks like a feminine toolbox. “You said you wanted to try some make-up. You’re going out tonight, why not let me put some on you now? I promise to keep it subtle this first time. I’ve got some clothes you can borrow, too.” She glances at my outfit of an ankle length skirt and t-shirt. “Only if you want. I know you’ll have left most of your stuff at home.”
I smile at her pretending we both don’t know that I don’t have any fashionable clothes at home either.
“Okay. I’d like that.” I know Ethan is bad news, but I still want him to notice me. Want him to see me as something other than a frumpy, naïve idiot. Why he kissed me I have no clue, but I want him to get the urge to do it again. And then I’ll shoot him down. I’ll be the one to reject him this time.
She comes to sit by me, and opens her shiny toolbox, and my eyes nearly fall out of my head. There’s so much stuff in there. All different colours. Wow. She looks at me and narrows her eyes. “I’m definitely going to go natural with you. You’re gorgeous anyway, too much and it’ll take away from your natural beauty.”
I give a little huff of breath in response to her delusions about my looks, but don’t say anything.
“I think some warm peaches and golds. You’ve got a light tan, and those colours will complement it and bring out your eyes.”
I have no idea what colours would suit me so I merely nod. I’m completely in her hands. She sets to work and I find it oddly soothing. We don’t talk much as she swipes at me with soft brushes and pencils.
After about fifteen minutes, she sits back and eyes me, before grinning wide. “You look fantastic. Take a look.”
She points to the mirror, and I turn to it. Holy crap! I stare, dumbfounded. Who is that girl looking back at me with the cheekbones and the full, pouty mouth? Whereas before my features always made me feel baby faced and childish, now they look womanly and sensual. My eyes are highlighted with a faint wash of gold, there’s a coral gloss on my lips, and warm blush on my cheeks. She’s done something to my brows, maybe brushed them or something, because they are the same colour, but they look more arched.
“How did you give me bone structure? I don’t understand.” I’ve always possessed pudgy baby cheeks.
Ann laughs. “Oh, darling. You’re the perfect canvas. You’re gorgeous. Your skin is a dream. As for the cheekbones, I did a bit of contouring, and then put a dab of highlighter on the top of your cheekbone to reflect the light. She gently moves my head side to side. “See? And don’t be hating on your cheeks. There are women who pay a fortune to get stuff pumped into their face to get the youthful, full look you’ve got going on.”
“Right.” She claps her hands. “Clothes.”
She pulls me up from the bed and we head to the room she’s staying in. “I stopped at my place on the way home from work when Ethan texted me to tell me he was taking you out tonight to meet Luka, and I grabbed some things.” She frowns then. “What size shoe are you?”
“Five.”
“Perfect! I’m a five too. This is like…meant to be.” She giggles and I’m not sure what she’s talking about but her enthusiasm is catching, and I find myself grinning.
She begins to pull some things out of a small case. She holds up a strappy, wispy dress and I shake my head. No way am I wearing that.
She shrugs. “Can’t blame a girl for trying. Okay, what about this?”
She holds up a forties style tea dress. I like it. It’s pretty, and it has little cap sleeves. It doesn’t look as if it will be too revealing. I nod and she hands it to me. “Try it on.”
I start to undress and then stop, remembering my scars. But why should I be ashamed of them? They’re another sign of my strength and all I’ve gone through, and I know Ann won’t judge me for them. I pull my t-shirt over my head and her eyes widen the moment they land on my stomach and side.
“Wow, Isla. What happened to you?” Her voice is gentle, but not full of pity, which I couldn’t stand.
“Car accident. My mum died in it. I got tons of glass embedded in my stomach, hips, and thighs. I needed surgery as I had trauma to my liver from the accident.”
“How old were you?”
“Nine.”
Her eyes fill with tears, and it shocks me a little to see this stranger moved by something that happened to me a long time ago.
“It’s okay. It happened ages back.”
“I know.” She sniffs. “But what an awful thing to go through so young. And to lose your mum, too. I’m sorry, Isla.”
“it’s okay.” And I mean it. Yes, it was awful, but I had my dad, and he’s been my rock. I’ve experienced a better upbringing than most of my friends with two parents. I still miss Mum, every day. But Dad has given me more than enough love in my life. As to the operation, it was awful, for sure, but nothing compared to what came later. And that’s something I hardly ever talk about.
I shimmy out of my jeans and pull the dress over my head, fastening the tiny buttons at the chest once it’s on. I glance down and am relieved to see it ends right above my knees. I don’t like wearing skirts that are too short as they show my scars.
“You, are a knockout!” Ann stares at me. “Here, slip these on.”
She hands me some sandals, and I’m relieved to see they have a small-ish wedge to them instead of heels. I’m useless in heels. I slip them on and fasten them, liking the feeling of extra height. I’ll have to get myself some shoes like this. I have a few boots with block heels, and a pair of low heeled smart shoes, but that’s about it.
“Go look in the mirror.”
I head to the full-length mirror, running down one of the wardrobe doors, and once more am shocked by what I see. The dress looked innocent in Ann’s hands. And in many ways, it is. The buttons fasten up to my collarbone, the cap sleeves cover my upper arms, and the hem flutters above my knees. But it clings to my curves in a way that’s almost obscene. My boobs look massive in it, my waist tiny and nipped in.
I narrow my eyes at Ann. “This is the sexiest, conservative dress I’ve ever seen.”
“I know.” She laughs. “It’s why I love it. Confuses the fuck out of men. You’re going to do such a number on Ethan tonight. You’re meeting Luka, too, and he’s as hot as the sun.”
“Really?” I can’t imagine him being hotter than Ethan. “Do you like him? Luka, I mean.”
“Oh, I like him alright. Like any other warm-blooded female would. But I’m not stupid enough to get mixed up with him. He’s walking heartbreak, that one. But it won’t hurt if you flirt a little and make Ethan jealous. Mess with his head some more.”
I start at her words. “What do you mean?”
“Only that my brother has the hots for you, and after tonight he’ll like you even more.”
“He has the hots for me?” I know he kissed me, but I’d thought it a game, or maybe an experiment. See how the geeky virgin kisses or something.
How can a man as virile and handsome as him have the hots for me? It makes no sense. He’s like a force of nature. Watching him hitting that punch bag made me want him so badly. I wanted the power and energy of him to be focused on me.
It’s out of character for me, and my brain knows it is a bad, bad idea. It’s not only Ethan, either. I keep getting urges to do crazy things. This feeling has been building in me for the last two years. A need to change things, shake them up. To step out of my suffocating comfort zone. But then fear will step in and hold me back. Fear of what’s out there. Of the unknown. Fear of hurting my dad. He loves having me at home, and he ended his only romantic relationship because she wasn’t nice to me. If I leave, what will he do? We’re a team. A good team.
If only Ethan does like me... He can be my temporary walk on the wild side.