with stalks of broccoli, cherry tomatoes, cauliflower and carrots, and took a handful. “Get some sleep, honey. It’s good for you, and it looks like you need it. Plus, it helps with weight loss.”
She was right; I was exhausted, but the last thing on my mind was sleep.
I went upstairs with my things and dropped them on my desk, hating that I could go from such high peaks to low valleys in a span of hours. I grabbed my silk pajamas and went to shower off the day and the makeup. When I stepped out of the shower and looked in the slightly foggy mirror, I frowned.
How could I reconcile myself with the girl looking back at me? The problem wasn’t that she had worn makeup. It was that she was trying. Didn’t I scoff at girls who woke up two hours before school to do their hair and makeup just to impress guys who didn’t even have their own bank accounts? Didn’t I hate the fact that I was judged just because of my appearance? Hadn’t I stood up to Merritt and told her none of it mattered?
I shook my head, wishing I could shake the heaviness in my heart. Knowing sleep was nowhere near with all these emotions hitting me full force, I padded past Aiden’s closed door to my studio. The same canvas from last time stared back at me, a perfect portrait of all the things I wished for. And all the things that might never happen.
I ran my finger over the rough surface of the canvas, then moved it front and center on my shelf before setting a new one on the easel. This time, I let all my feelings into the painting. Pain and fear and hope blended into a beautiful, off-color portrait of everything my size told me shouldn’t come true.
Ten
I woke to a new chat I hadn’t seen the night before. Zara had linked me to a “natural” makeup tutorial. As I walked to the bathroom and hit play on the video, part of me wanted to give up. It was thirty minutes long, and I was sure there would be plenty of hitting pause as I navigated it.
But I needed to prove my mom and Merritt wrong. Judgement or not, difficult or not, I was doing this. I was going to be the girl Beckett could fall in love with. For the better part of an hour, I struggled to follow the video and apply my own makeup. Eventually I reached a point where doing anything more would just mess it up. Plus, I needed to get to school for my tutoring session with Anna.
I hurriedly ran a straightener through my hair—no way did I have time for curls—and put on my uniform. Even though I needed to leave, I stopped by the full-length mirror and took myself in. I pouted my lips like I’d seen girls do before, zhushed my hair, and sucked in my gut like my life depended on it.
For my first solo attempt? Not bad. I still didn’t want to endure my mom’s prying questions, so I hurried downstairs, grabbed some fruit from the kitchen, and called a goodbye over my shoulder before going to the school.
I made it just in time to pick up Anna from the drop-off line. Her mom rolled down the window and smiled at me. “Looking good, Rory,” she called.
My cheeks flushed even more so than the rouge implied. “Thank you.”
Anna flew through the sliding van door and came running to me, giving me a big hug. The normalcy of it and the excitement in her greeting warmed my heart.
When she pulled back, she looked at me, confused. “Why did you put that stuff on your face?”
I laughed and stood to walk toward the school. “It's called makeup.”
“I wear my mom's makeup sometimes,” she said, smiling up at me.
“Oh really?” I asked.
“Yes, but only when she doesn't know.” She turned and waved to her mom, like she just remembered she was leaving.
I couldn't help but laugh as I waved as well. As the van pulled away, we continued walking toward the library, as usual.
“Guess what I've been working on?” Anna said in the way that made me worry I’d have to text her mom when this was over.
“What?” I asked hesitantly, sitting with her at one of the tables in the library. The chairs were way too small for me, but none of them had broken yet. (Knock on manufactured wood.) She