KissnTell

Chapter 3

POPULARITY, HERE WE COME

Vaughn

I had to pee, sitting there on the bus with Anais, even though I had, like, just peed before we left for our first Cranbrook party ever. My leg wouldn't stop jumping. And I couldn't stop playing the same scene in my head: Xander opens the door, his blue-gray eyes brimming with joy and relief that I made it there, to his party, which he had personally invited me to. He takes me in his arms in a lingering embrace, and whispers softly in my ear, I've been waiting all night for this moment.

I had been waiting my whole life for that moment, which is exactly the level of hype that could erase all foresight and pragmatism—if I even had any to begin with.

Whatever, I looked ridiculously hot. Pam, also known as Anais's mom, was a fairy freaking godmother. Channeling boho-chic Nicole Richie, she swept my bowl cut into a messy bun, leaving my bangs shaggy in front. She christened my typically beady, some might say "creepy," eyes with smoky, charcoal shadow. She stuffed inserts in the sad A- cups of my wilting training bra to fill me out a bit. Then she decked me out in this insane Pucci-inspired caftan thing she found at Rodeo Drive Resale; it was multicolored paisley, she said, and it was very 70s, which meant very "in" right now. At first I thought it would make me look shapeless and dull, but as it turns out, I am shapeless and dull, and apparently two shapeless and dull elements repel or something because the combination of me in it was unbelievable. I looked even taller, even leaner. Sophisticated.

In the same store, Pam found a Rebecca Taylor cream-colored, georgette silk babydoll dress for Anais. It had an empire waist that cinched her where she was smallest, a Peter Pan collar, and little buttons down the front. She emerged from the powder-scented dressing room tugging awkwardly at the hem. I almost choked on my gum. She looked insanely beautiful.

Pam gasped instantly, then toned it down a bit to gauge Anais's comfort level. "Well?" Pam asked encouragingly.

Anais shrugged, her head dipped toward her thighs. "It's...short," she managed to say.

Pam scuttled to her side, brushing a dust mite from the back of the dress. "But it isn't too short," Pam said, studying Anais, who I would've known was miserable if I hadn't been preoccupied with the fashion show starring me parading through my brain. "Is it?" Pam finished, her voice an octave higher.

Anais shifted her weight. "You tell me."

"I think you look beautiful," Pam said.

I nodded enthusiastically. Anais turned to look in the mirror. Her reflection clearly pained her.

"Aren't chubby girls supposed to wear black or something?" she asked. Pam and I exchanged a look.

"The fact that you think you're chubby is seriously disturbing me right now," I said, examining my nails.

"You are anything but chubby!" Pam echoed, scolding her. "You're womanly."

"I would kill for your boobs," I added.

Anais returned to the dressing room and pulled the curtain shut.

She let her mother buy the dress, though she didn't seem to really want the dress, or anything else on the agenda, for that matter. She had a let's just get this over with kind of attitude that I did not get at all. It was her birthday. We were going to an amazing party. She should have been ecstatic! I looked over at her. She gazed out the window biting her lip. Pam had set her hair in hot rollers and brushed it out so she had that sixties, Brigitte Bardot look. I had to Google "Brigitte Bardot," which made Pam feel old. I know she was a French bombshell and all, but I couldn't help taking notice of her yellow teeth, leathery skin, and brassy hair. I was left sort of underwhelmed. Anais was clearly prettier with her strawberry blonde mane, perfect ivory complexion and full lips. In times like this, I wished she could appreciate her looks like I did. Instead, she was totally killing my buzz.