Waiting For Us [COMPLETED]

chapter 37 - prom

Talia:

How many hours does it take to get ready for prom?

If you asked me yesterday how long it would take, I would guess two. Hair, makeup, getting dressed—that didn't seem like too many things on the list.

Today, I will tell you my estimate is extremely low. Like, four hours less that it actually is.

Hour six into Project Prom, as Quinn likes to call it, I feel ready to rip my hair out. For the past hour—and counting—Quinn has glued me to a chair to fix my hair up all pretty, so ripping it out is completely out of the question. Darn.

Jess, Quinn, and I have been huddled in my room for so long, I think we have run out of oxygen to breathe. My best friend refuses to open the window to allow fresh air in, insisting how one small breeze can ruin hours of hard work.

This morning at ten AM, I was awakened by Jessica violently shaking me awake. Then, a brand new razor was shoved in my face.

"Shave every hair below your head," she had stated in a very serious tone. Jess then handed me a large can of shaving cream. "Here. Remember, down, not up, when you hit that part of your body. Spread your cheeks if you must! You need to be smooth, Lia. I'm a feminist in all ways, but prom night is an exception!"

It was the most horrified I have ever been in my life.

Thirty minutes after the disturbing demands from my sister, I stepped out of the shower; everything below the neck was smooth. I planned on doing it all anyways. I doubt Grayson would care very much about the level of hair on my body, but it was a personal choice for me to keep things hairless for wherever the night would lead us.

"Hold your head still!" Quinn now squeals from above me. I tried turning my head to get a better look of my hair in the mirror, which I'm apparently not allowed to do. I'm impatient.

"Sorry," I mumble, Quinn returning to curling the remaining strands of my hair.

More than half of my hair cascades down my back in soft curls that Quinn managed to form without using hairspray. That alone will make tonight much easier. That is if anything happens between myself and Grayson. Other strands of my hair sweep up and are pinned at the back of my head in some kind of half-up, half-down look. A whole container of bobby pins with little fake pearls at the end of them sit on my desk, ready to be arranged in my hairdo.

Jessica sits on the floor as she paints her toenails dark purple, sticking her tongue out in concentration. "I hate how small my toenails are. It makes them impossible to paint."

Quinn giggles. "Would you rather have large toes, then? Extra fat to make painting the nails easier?"

"No," Jess huffs, a strand of her already arranged hair blowing upwards. "Never mind, I guess my toes are fine."