A Heart Like Yours | ✓

Twenty-five - "Its barely begun"

"This is a terrible idea."

With Jett on another date with Luke, I'm left alone with Charlie, who wants to remind me every five seconds what a terrible decision I have made.

"Like, catastrophically terrible," she deadpans, sprawled across my bed as I comb through my wardrobe, picking an outfit for the concert tonight.

I have less than an hour before Sophia's driver will be here to pick me up and my panic is only rising.

Seeing Holden tonight, the first time after our fight, makes my stomach plummet with nervous excitement. I picture what I might say to him first, something witty, but shake my head in contempt.

I'm being stupid. Right now, I just need to focus on actually changing out of my track pants and dirt stained t-shirt from this afternoon's gardening session.

"It's not that I'm completely against you seeing Holden again, even if he did turn out to be a bit of an ass," she mumbles. "It's just that you're going with—"

"I know," I sigh. "But maybe it'll be good for him. He has all this pent up anger over his past, Char. He needs to release it somehow."

"And trapping him in a room with his cheating ex and back-stabbing best friend is the best option?" She raises and eyebrow, tutting.

"It's just about the only option," I hold a top to my chest, inspecting it in the mirror before throwing it to the growing pile below with a groan.

"Wear the baby blue crop with your white jeans," she sighs, frowning as she inspects her nails. "You always look cute in that outfit."

Despite her dissatisfaction at my omission, I smile brightly at her for the tip, searching through my drawers until I find the jeans. I locate the top buried deep in my cupboard.

I'm pulling the top over my head, bending my arm when I wince. A fresh bruise is blooming on the inside of my forearm; the only remnants of the needle's intrusion.

"I guess I can do your makeup too," she mutters, approaching me with heavy footsteps, like rising from my bed is causing her physical strain.

I sit cross legged in front of my mirror as she rummages through my makeup draw, pulling out all the products she needs as she mumbles to herself.

I lift my hand to my face, applying pressure to my cheeks as I watch the colour draining from them; lifeless.

"I'm starting to look sick," I observe. "Do you think anyone will notice?"

Charlie turns back to me, eyebrows furrowed in thought. "They'll think you look like a hot piece of ass, actually," she grins.

"Can you grab my darker shade of foundation?" The one I use when I tan?" I say, pulling the skin taunt under my eyes, noticing the dark circles beginning to appear.

"You don't look sick," Charlie whispers. "You look—"

"Like I've just risen from the dead?" I offer, forcing a smile. "It's towards the back of the draw."

Despite her will to protest, Charlie's shoulder droop as she turns back around, locating my darker foundation to cover the colourless nature of my skin.

"Have you experienced any nausea yet?" she asks, laying out the products in front of me as I turn to face her.

"No," I shake my head. "Still plenty of time for that. I've only had the one treatment."

"When's your next one?"

"Tomorrow," I whisper, closing my eyes as she begins applying primer. "The frequency of my treatment is a concern, but I'm trying not to focus on that too much."