The John Hughes Club

Chapter Twenty Seven

"Did any of what Mr. Higgins talked about in Geography this afternoon actually sink in with you, because it sure hasn't with me?" Resting her chin on the back of her propped up hands, Ros sighs back at me on my screen. Deciding to FaceTime me, she's been casually chatting about school stuff, while wanting to show off her new experimentation with eye makeup.

"I kind of feel sorry for him. I think he's quite a shy teacher, so his lessons aren't exactly taught with much passion," I casually tell her, crossing my legs so I feel more comfy on my bed.

Ros starts pursing her bemused lips. "Meaning, he's boring."

Wanting to swerve away from any more talk of school after not long just completing my homework and some revision, I now want to chat about Ros and her fab makeup. "Enough about Geography, let's discuss your cute feline flicks on your eyes...I love them!"

Pleased with herself, a soft smile lifts the corners of her thinnish mouth. "I think it's about finding the right liquid eyeliner that works for you. I've been trying out different lengths and thicknesses, as well. This is currently my fave." Again, Ros smiles.

"Well, it really suits you," I eagerly tell her, understanding the importance of a really good liquid eyeliner. I wouldn't be without mine, or my black kohl pencil.

"I'm quite surprised you're not thinking about doing Beauty Therapy once you've left school, Mindy? I think that's what I'm going to do once I've left Archleigh," Ros happily informs me, a sheen of excitement glimmering from her pale shade of slate eyes.

My heart has always been set on doing Art beyond my school years, I don't think anything will ever change that—not even makeup. "Nah, I really want to explore where my art might lead me. Sure, I love messing around with makeup, but it's not something I want to base a future career on," is my confidently given reply to Ros.

Moving herself to a sitting position on her own bed, a frown of confusion now dances across the features of Ros. "Yet your makeup is such a big part of who you are, Mindy. It's something that people first see of you, before they see any of your artwork."

Tilting my head gently on my shoulder, I softly nod. "That's true, but my makeup isn't what defines me, Ros."

Still, she seems just as confused. "But it kind of does." To accompany what she's about to say, she offers me a well-meaning smile, "I'm probably right when I say this, but I bet it wasn't long after the death of your sister that you began wearing all of that makeup? For years, you've been hiding yourself behind your eyeliner, mascara and lipstick, trying to mask all that you were feeling. That, has become something that defines you, Mindy." With her words temporarily ceased, her prettily made up eyes blink back at me. "You have been masking all of your pain behind your makeup. I know that, because I've been hiding mine behind a wall of bitchy attitude."

Rigidly, I remain still on my bed. I daren't move. Daren't blink. For hot tears are beginning to swell on the lower rim of my eyes, ready to drop over the curve of my lashes. Never before has anyone questioned my reasons for why I wear my makeup. Over the years, it's just become a part of who I am, but no one has ever wondered why it became a part of who I am—or at least, they've never vocalised it to me. Yet Ros, she knows. She knows, because in a different way, she's been doing the same as me—hiding her hurt. "Nearly a year after Anais died, I went to a Halloween party," I quietly begin. "The more makeup I put on, the more I felt like I was becoming someone else. Once I'd finished, I remember looking at myself in the mirror, thinking that it was the first time I was seeing a face that I could just about bear to look at. The Mindy without any makeup on, had the face of the sister who had watched Anais die. The Mindy with makeup on, became the sister who had watched Anais die but was camouflaging that despised face of hers with the blackest eyeliner, mascara and lipstick she could find—a cosmetic armoury to shut everything out with," I admit with quiet sadness, followed by an inhalation of the same sadness.

Staring at her screen, a stare of understanding is there in Ros's eyes. "Just like me, you'll learn that you don't need to hide your pain, Mindy. You'll learn to just be you. You'll find a way to be transparent about your past. That face of yours is a strong face. It's a face that's gone through one of the worst things it'll ever go through...no amount of makeup will ever change that." I don't yet say anything. I can't. Instead, those swollen tears on the lower rim of my eyes, they break free. Once free, they glide down my cheeks one after the other. Becoming emotional herself, Ros is quick to reply to my tears, "I'm sorry, Mindy. I didn't mean to upset you." Looking at her screen, the sympathy and apology coming from my unlikely friend, is warmly felt by me. Brushing the tears away with the fingers on each of my hands, a trembling smile is all I can give her in return. To which, Ros quickly replies, "You're helping me, I just want to do the same for you." Being stronger than I am, she's managing to contain her emotions. Pulling her shoulders back, Ros now looks at me with a new kind of fondness. "I had you all wrong, Mindy. When you first came to Archleigh, I had you all wrong. We both know that Chas himself has been to hell and back with his own losses, but since he's met you, he seems less troubled...less burdened. I admire you far too much to lie to you, so I won't even bothering trying to lie about my feelings for Chas. I'll always care about him, always. He went out of his way to be there for me when I lost my sister. I would have liked it if he had let me be more in his life, but he chose you for that. I'll never be bitter about that. I'm glad he's got you, and now that we're becoming friends, I'm glad you have got him. You're good together, deservingly good together."

The last of my previous tears have just rolled down on both sides of my jaw, yet all that Ros has just said to me, now brings the newest of tears to my eyes. These tears are different. They come for a very different reason. They are salty droplets of gratitude and happiness. Smiling, I gently brush those new tears away. "It's a good job I'm not going anywhere, you've turned me into a right mess!" I emotionally joke to her, swiping more of those tears away from my cheeks.

"Well, this is a perfect time for you to take off that makeup and start reacquainting yourself with the face that's a kind and strong face. When you're ready, everyone should see just how kind and strong it really is." With a smile, Ros then lifts her iPad into her lap. "Anywaaaaaaaaaay, moving on...tell me what's going on with Zigs and Ella?" In a second, Ros has gone from emotionally deep to jovially inquisitive.

Not really feeling like it's my place to broadcast what may or may not be going on between them, I decide to be casually diplomatic with my reply, "I'm not entirely sure, but if there is, I'm sure Zigs himself will announce it to the entire school." With a short laugh, I think I have successfully skimmed over that conversation.

Nodding enthusiastically, Ros grins. "Very true!" She agrees, still grinning. "Well, I'm off to have a shower before having a YouTube sesh with a load of YUNGBLUD videos. See you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow," I brightly say, smiling at my screen. "Ros?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks." My smile says it all—thanks for being a friend, thanks for not hating me about Chas, thanks for understanding grief—just, thanks.

"No problem, Mindy." With a final little wave, Ros and her smile are gone.

However, my smile, is still on my lips. There, because it just is. Sighing, I rise from off my bed, making barefooted steps towards my mirror. Ros and her words are still echoing inside of my head while I stare at my mess of a face. Black makeup is now smudged all around my eyes and tracks of it line my cheeks. I'm a mess, but a happy mess. For the first time, I am wanting to see the face beneath this smudgey mess. I want to see its bareness and its pale truth. For so long, my makeup has hidden my truth, hidden my pain. Now, I want to remove that mask, remove my cosmetic armour. When I do, I just hope that Ros is right—that beneath all of that blackness, there really is a kind and strong face.