summers together and that had made us super close. Sometimes I thought I was even closer to him than he was to his four older brothers. I think our friendship worked so well because I wasn’t actually a part of his big crazy family; yet, I understood where he was coming from.
It was kind of crazy to think that we'd been friends for so long, but our friendship was the most special relationship we both had in our lives. We always had each other's backs. The only problem was, I felt like Harry took me for granted. He didn't see me as a woman that had her own life. He didn't see me as someone to value and put on a pedestal. He just saw me as someone that was always there. And it wasn't just him. It was his brothers as well. Harry had four brothers that he grew up with. And actually I grew up with them too. And not one of them had ever asked me out. Not one of them had ever tried to kiss me. Not one of them had ever looked at me with that look that says, "Wow, you're looking sexy." And now that I was older, it frustrated and upset me. Why weren't these guys interested in me?
I knew I looked like a little bit of a tomboy. I always had my hair in a ponytail. It was four inches too long, it hadn't been colored in my whole life. I wore glasses and frumpy clothes, but I was ready for a change. I didn't want to be the girl next door that no one ever looked at anymore. I was 23 years old already. I had just graduated from grad school. I wanted to be the girl that people looked at and thought, "Wow, she's absolutely beautiful. I want to be with her." I wanted Harry's brothers to look at me and be fighting over me. I wanted Harry to have to break up fights. Well, maybe not literal fights. That wouldn't be cool. And I knew my mother and his mother would disapprove, but it was still nice to dream. They at least could have gotten into heated arguments and argued over who was going to date me or something.
I'd spoken to my friend Gemma about my dilemma. We’d met in Grad school and she was my best female friend. She knew that Harry and I had been best friends since we were kids and were still closer than many people were. When she’d first met him, she was shocked to find out that we’d never messed around because he’s so good looking, but I assured her, we were nothing more than friends. He’d never even looked at me in a special way and neither had any of his four equally hot brothers. She knew that their lack of interest in me actually frustrated me slightly. Not because I wanted them, but because I wanted to be wanted.
Gemma suggested that it was likely that they all took my presence for granted and didn’t really see me as a woman. She kindly told me that a lot of that was most probably related to my tomboy look and the fact that I was a doormat to every single one of them. She suggested that I should get a make-over. She had some friends in the fashion industry that she thought could give me a helping hand. She thought it was a little bit late in life to have a full makeover, but still worth it for my purposes. I wasn’t hurt by her words. I was used to her; she was one of those blunt New Yorkers that had no subtlety, and I was glad to have a friend to tell me like it is.
Normally girls like me had their blossoming or chrysalis in high school; where they went from the ugly caterpillar to the beautiful butterfly and everyone at the Prom wondered who the beautiful swan floating across the dance floor with the high school quarterback was. I never had that moment. In fact, I didn't even go to my high school prom. I stayed at home and watched movies with Harry's brothers who were home from college while Harry went with the head cheerleader. Even though he had already graduated. Yeah, that wasn't sad was it?
Harry had asked me to come with them, but who wants to be a third wheel at prom? Not me. But I was fed