Rhombus [h.s]

16

16

Emily was ecstatic on Friday afternoon. She spent twenty minutes in the shower, which was fifteen minutes more than usual. She blew her hair dry, which I'd never seen before; in fact, I never even knew she had a blow-dryer. She tried on five different dresses for the ball, before settling on a blue velvet gown. She applied, then reapplied, mascara. She fastened a simple gold chain around her neck and two tiny gold hoops into her ears. After she pulled on her shiniest pumps and said, "There."

She looked beautiful, I guess. But different. Something was missing in her eyes.

All this took her ninety minutes, which was eighty-five minutes more than I spent on my entire cargo pants and wool pullover ensemble.

"Rue, are you sure you'll be alright by yourself tonight?" She asked me as she slipped her invitation into her purse. She was specifically invited to attend the Stein Ball. Student union perks, I guess.

"I mean, I can always ask Felicia to come by," she said.

"No, no. I'll be fine. Thanks." I said. I hated her loud ass friend Felicia, anyway.

She gave me an apologetic look. "Don't worry. I'll make sure you'd be able to attend the ball next year."

"Really, Em. It's all good." I said and gave her the best smile I could muster.

"Okay then. I'll see you tomorrow morning," she said and winked and left.

...

I was sitting on the floor in front of Woody, pretending that I was flipping through The Summit, but really just biting my nails and freaking out.

She put this gorgeous red evening gown in front of herself and modeled it for me. I winced at the odd juxtaposition of her bright orange hair and intense red of fabric. It gave me an ocular migraine.

"You know you'll look like a vixen in this dress," she said, meeting my eyes in the mirror and smiling. "A sexy but deadly vixen."

I frowned. "Where did you get that anyway?"

"I borrowed it from Becka," Woody said. "Now"-she turned to face me-"get up. They'll be here soon."

"They?"

She rolled her eyes and laughed. "Your carriage drivers. G and Murdock."

"Oh."

"Are you nervous?" She asked, her voice soft. She kept her eyes on mine and I knew she could already see the answer.

So I just said, "Hey, no sweat. I'm fine."

"Fear not," she said and grinned, "for you are in the guiding hands of a skilled Picasso. I'll make sure you'll look gorgeous tonight."

"Right."

"Now put this on."

I stood up and changed into the evening gown Woody got for me and stared in the mirror for a long time, not used to seeing myself in clothes that fitted my shape. Woody insisted I'd look wonderful with my hair in a twist chignon and my lips painted crimson red, "the classic Hollywood glamour look," she said. I really liked how my makeup turned out that night.

"You look breathtaking!" Woody exclaimed.

I looked at myself in the mirror again. "More like breathtaken," I said. "I can't breathe in this thing."

"Blame Becka and her waifish figure," she laughed slightly. "Still, you should give it a huge up for making you look hot as hell."

Her phone rang on my bed.