With a huff, Alisha stands and follows Jordan out of the closet, and Jordan closes the door behind her.
I’m left standing in the closet alone, surrounded by clothes I could never afford. I hang the dress on the nearest rack, then start to strip out of my clothes, feeling grateful I thought to shave in the shower this morning.
Now in my bra and panties, I slip the dress from its hanger and start to shimmy into it. It’s skintight, and I have to wiggle to get it into place, but once I have it on and turn to look at myself in the mirror, my jaw drops.
I’ve never worn anything like this before, so thin and skimpy and . . . sexy. The soft black fabric hugs my hips, showing off my waist and thighs. If I don’t look at myself too closely, I can almost imagine I’m someone else, one of those girls who goes out every night and smiles in every photo. And honestly, I kind of like it.
There’s a light knock on the door, and then Jordan pokes her head in. When she sees me in the dress, she gasps.
“I knew it!” She throws the door open and walks in, Alisha on her heels. They give me a onceover, and Alisha reaches for my bra strap.
“You should take that off. It’ll look much better without it. Want some help?”
Despite feeling a bit shy in front of them, I nod. Alisha walks around behind me and unclips my bra, and then I pull the straps down and yank it off.
“So much better,” Jordan says, giving me an approving nod in the mirror.
I’m not usually proud of my tiny boobs, but in this little black dress, they look, well, good. No, great. And seeing myself like this actually makes me smile. I’m not used to it, and I would never have picked something like this for myself, but somehow, it works.
“Okay, now your hair.” Jordan waves for me to follow her, and I do so happily, only now starting to get excited about our night out. We walk into her bathroom, and she’s already set up a stool in front of the huge mirror over the marble sink. “What style do you usually like?”
I take a seat and shrug. “I don’t know. I usually have it pulled back, I guess.”
“All right, let’s see what we’re working with.”
Alisha hops up onto the counter and starts scrolling on her phone while Jordan gently and expertly unwinds my braid and works her fingers through my tangles.
“Such a pretty color,” she says. “Is that natural?”
“Yeah. I’ve never dyed it.”
“Never?”
I shake my head, and Jordan laughs as she reaches for a comb.
It’s comforting, being fawned over this way. I’m an only child, so I didn’t grow up with a sister, though I would’ve loved to, and Mom has never been much into beauty, so I struggled through on my own for the most part.
Jordan detangles my hair gently, then steps back and stares at me for a moment. “Straight? Waves? Curls?” she says, and Alisha looks up, her head tipping to one side.
It feels like I’m on display at a museum or something, given the intensity of their stares.
Finally, they both say, “Straight.”
While Jordan pulls out her straightener and plugs it in, I look over at Alisha.
“So, how long have you and Lucas been together?” I ask. Small talk has never been a strong suit of mine, but I have the urge to at least try.
Alisha puckers her lips thoughtfully. “Eight months.”
“Really?” Jordan says from behind me. “I didn’t realize it’d been that long.”
“Yeah. I’m his longest relationship to date.” Her full lips pull into a smirk. “I think he wants to put a ring on it.” She holds up her left hand and wiggles her ring finger.
Jordan scoffs. “Are we talking about the same Lucas?” she asks. The straightener beeps, and she starts running it gently through my hair, straightening out all the waves and kinks from the braid.
They laugh, seeming completely at ease in each other’s company. Suddenly, I get a bit jealous. I had friends in high school and college, but since moving to LA, I’ve mostly been on my own. Watching them chat so casually and comfortably with each other makes me long for a close female friend.
“What’s the deal with Sebastian?” I ask.
Jordan gets a big smile. “He’s single, I think. Always running after the wrong women and getting his heart broken. Why? Are you interested?”
“No!” I say quickly. “Just trying to figure them all out.” I look down at my hands in my lap and twist my turquoise ring around my thumb. “How about Dex?”
There’s a beat of silence, and when I glance up, they’re both giving me knowing looks.
“Don’t even go there with him,” Jordan says, shaking her head. “He’s the total opposite of Sebastian.”
Alisha nods. “Dex is a fuckboy. He’s even worse than Lucas was when I met him.”
Jordan mumbles her agreeance, and we lapse into silence as she continues straightening my hair.
What Alisha said doesn’t surprise me, so why does it feel like a knot just formed in my stomach? I’ve known Dex is a playboy since before I met him, and I’ve told myself all along not to get swept up in his charm, but it’s so hard when he looks like that.
“There. Done.” Jordan steps back, and I finally look up from my hands and into the mirror.
“Wow,” I whisper. My long brown hair is straight and smooth, and without all the waves in it, it hangs down to my elbows. “It looks amazing,” I say as I run a hand through the silky strands. “Thank you.”
“Sure. Now we need the final touch. Alisha, wanna do the honors?”
