Chapter 4: Possibility♥

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Piper is hogging the mirror, which is absurd because she’s already far too pretty. We’ve been arguing all afternoon about what this BBQ entails: do we dress formal or casual? And then beyond that do we dress casually-casual or smart-casual or…

The whole thing makes my brain hurt almost as much as maths does. Anyway, Piper finally made up her mind we should go smart-casual. She and Halle looked great in their own clothes, but I spent half an hour staring at my wardrobe before admitting defeat and calling them for advice. They turned up ten minutes later, laden down with clothes and make-up, and proceeded with the long and arduous process of turning me pretty.

At last they decided on a pretty floaty dress that’s just the right mix of casual and formal, according to Piper. I’m wearing my sandals and my hair is curled loosely around my shoulders instead of wafting off like gravity just isn't a thing, as per usual. We stand facing the mirror, giggling and shoving each other trying to make ourselves look as perfect as possible.

Theres something about dressing up in nice clothes and doing your hair and make-up that makes me feel excited. Sometimes the best part of a night is when me, Piper and Halle are in one of our bedrooms, blasting One Direction or warbling along to Taylor Swift.

It’s just the excitement in the air. The question mark shimmering over everything. Will the night turn out great, or will it be at the other end of the spectrum? But earlier we’ll be dancing, singing and laughing, when our expectations are never let down by reality, the night stretching on endlessly, glimmering with possibility.

Now we stand side by side in my mirror, examining ourselves. When your two best friends are Piper and Halle it’s hard to feel like the pretty friend. Piper’s all big blue eyes and blonde curly hair. Coupled with her tiny height and pale skin and she looks like a little fairy. Her unintimidating appearance contrasts with her bold personality: Piper’s not afraid of anything, spiders, rollercoasters, heights. When we were in year three, and boys were the alien species and had “boy germs”, Piper walked up and poked one in the shoulder. It was the bravest thing I’ve ever seen a seven year old do.

Halle is tall like me, but that’s where the similarities end. While I’m what considerate people call “an athletic build” - essentially code for no figure -  Halle is all curves in all the right places. She has long dark hair, often died vivid colours. Right now her hair is its natural hue, or at least as close to what I imagine her natural colour to be as I've seen it. A silver stud in her nose, and a small tattoo on her ankle, make her what my grandma would call “alternative”. But it’s the same with Piper: her personality is completely different to how she looks. Halle generally belongs in her own world, completely oblivious to everything.

But today, I feel like we’re all equally pretty. And it’s a feeling I welcome.

We head downstairs, to where Charlie and the others are waiting. We got Louise’s address and it’s on the route of a bus we can take, and our mums are picking us up later. I see the lads have made a slight effort; at least they all appeared to have had a shower and changed their shirts.

“Do we look alright?” Halle’s worrying, smoothing down her hair in the halls mirror.

“Yeah yeah, you’re all ten’s. Now can we get moving? We’re going to miss the bus.” Charlie says, shepherding us all out the door. I see Matty hang back to stand next to Halle.

“You look really nice, um…really.” He says, his voice taking on that soft gooey tone it does when he’s talking with Halle.

“Thanks Matty. Not too bad yourself.” She replies, moving on to chat to Piper.

“Tough luck buddy.” I whisper to him, giving him what I hope is a reassuring smile. He smiles back, but sadly. I feel Matty’s pain: countless times I’ve pined after someone who doesn’t even notice me in that way.

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