Taste (H.S. / A.U.)

Chapter 2

ELOISE DUPONT

I double check my bag just like Jade had asked moments ago, "yes it is there Jade. I told you, I went through this last night multiple times." My sigh was apparent to us both that I was ready to stop checking to make sure I didn't forget things.

Jade was stretched out on my couch, with her head resting delicately upon a white pillow. Her long black hair was straightened and tossed over the armrest. "Since we are just flying to Louisiana I guess you can leave your passport, but then also don't forget it when we get back to the city. I can give it to Ricky if you want so that he has all of them, if that is easiest?" Jade pulled her phone out at the mention to start texting her husband, the plan I assume.

Jade made looking casually put together effortless at all times. Today I expected us to run errands and finish last minute things, which personally meant maybe putting on a simple pair of slacks and sweater, but for Jade it meant a vintage tweet black and white dress over stockings and black oxfords.

We may be part of the same tax bracket and social economical standard, but we have never quite mastered acting and looking like we are the same. Jade drips poise, class, and posh from her old school family trust funds.

Jade was naturally tall, slender, and radiant. She had a sharp jawline, a wondrous 5'11" height without heels, and her body never exceeded a size four even when bloated. Jade never had a moment where her hair laid out of place, her hands were not perfectly manicured, and her skin wasn't glowing. She always told me it was only because she scored amazing genes from her parents, being half Japanese and half Armenian. Claiming it gave her access to all the best genes like being tan, having dark eyes that always looked mysterious and full of depth, and skin that never broke out.

Meanwhile I was the exact opposite in my pale almost Victorian childlike ivory skin that practically glowed-in-the-dark. I constantly suffered from rosy cheeks, and my blue eyes gave me the appeal of an ice queen. Everyone assumed because of the strawberry blonde hair I had to be Irish, but when I surprised them with the full blooded French bloodline they always were taken back.

I actually looked exactly like my mother, except she embraced her beauty in a natural tone in every photo I saw, makeup less, pastel loose dresses consistently covered by an apron, and never a hair out of place from her strawberry toned slick back ponytail. I have a little less luck, usually battling my curtain bangs to hang correctly, remind myself not to skip hot yoga after gorging on pasta to keep my figure, and beating a full face of makeup onto my skin to get the same effortless beauty.

My legs had gone asleep a while back, from sitting on the floor so long and getting up made me feel older than my age with creaking bones. I pad my way over to the kitchen to start making a hot tea, offering the same to Jade who scrunches her nose and brushes the idea away.

I was a tea person, Jade was an iced coffee person.

Jade was still scrolling along her phone, this time attempting to go over the schedule and itinerary we have lined up. Jade had booked all the hotels, villas, airbnbs, vehicles, and anything else you could consider. If one single thing was left to chance or a change of plans that might give Jade her first gray hair probably.

She huffs, "I must have drank too much wine the first night planning. Why did we do down to Louisiana and then back up here to New York just to then go back south for Mexico City? This sounds so counterproductive. I blame this one on Ricky though. At times I swear Ricky does not think in terms of back and forth, that silly man." I nod along to her while starting to pull down a few cookbooks, mentally telling myself to double check the homemade one I am preparing for the trip.