dozens of them,” Selena says, holding them out to me like I’m supposed to pick between the two. “We always bring a couple with us, in case of a serious hair emergency.” She rolls her eyes, and I smile. I've missed having a girlfriend around to talk to. My heart clenches when I think about Monica, but I shake it off. It wasn't just that she cheated with Cody (although that is sort of a big deal), but it was the way she treated me, too.
She forgot my birthday, she was never willing to take a minute out of her day to talk to me, and then when I did question them about their affair, she acted like it was my fault. I wish she'd call and apologize, and I’d just forgive her, and we could move on.
But that's never going to happen, is it? Life never works out nice and pretty like that, does it?
“One time,” Selena continues as I grab the red wig, and she leans down to put the other away, “my friend Bethany caught her hair on fire during a fourth of July thing, and well, there was a singed bald spot on one side …” She trails off, grabbing a clean towel from a stack on the bottom bunk of the nearest bed. Selena towel-dries my hair, and then puts a net on to hold the tangled strands back from my face.
I'm fully expecting the wig to look like, well, a wig. But this is no cheap Halloween store find; I think it might be made of human hair. Sort of creepy if you think about it, but … when she puts it on, carefully adjusting the little wispy pieces in the front, it looks so good that I gasp.
“Told you,” Selena purrs with a little grin. “You look like Jessica freaking Rabbit.” She curls the long red strands over my shoulders, and then reaches down for some foundation. It's a lot paler of a color than I'm used to, but I guess I don't exactly have much of a tan anymore. “So, which one of those beautiful Student Council boys are you crushing on?”
My cheeks flush red as she covers up a few small, stupid pimples, and then goes in with sparkling silver shadow, black liner, and mascara.
“None of them,” I say, which is totally a big, fat lie. “All of them,” I finally add with a sigh, shifting uncomfortably in my seat. “I don't know. Most of them still think I'm a guy …” I trail off, and glance over at her as she picks through a series of lip liners, choosing a much darker color for me than I'd normally go for. “Um, about my being a girl and all …”
“I won't tell on you,” Selena says, smiling at me with her red, red lips in the mirror. “We all have our secrets.”
She finishes up my makeup, and then ushers me into the bathroom to change. The dress she's given me is freaking gorgeous, like something I'd have found in Monica's closet. It's got this low-cut V in the front, showing off the breasts I've been trying so damn hard to hide. It hits me about mid-thigh, making my short legs look long and lean.
The dress is made of this matte black material that pairs perfectly with a sparkling black belt that Selena wraps around my waist.
“How are you in heels?” she asks, offering up these delicious stilettos with a little zipper detail on the front, and a silver heart charm that reminds me of Ranger's key.
“I'd consider myself a bit of a … well, not Miss J level,” I admit, referencing the fabulous runway consultant on America's Next Top Model, this gorgeous guy who walks in heels better than any woman I've ever seen, “but I'm like an advanced level student. I can totally handle those.”
“Perfect.” Selena passes me over the shoes, and then gives me some jewelry to put on. After she's finished, she cocks her head to one side, grins, and nods. “Oh yes, Miss Charlotte, I think you're ready.”
“Not quite,” I say, reaching into the front pocket of my hoodie and pulling out my spare glasses. The lenses are a bit scratched, but the thin silver frames with the little rose details on the corners will help keep me disguised. I always carry around an extra pair, just in case. Not being able to see is the worst.
Selena holds out her arm, and I take it, letting her