Exquisite

Chapter 2

When I came back from lunch that day, having sat on my own, of course, Jen was nowhere to be seen. I flopped down on my bed, when something caught my eye on the wall above it.
It was Jen's Fleetwood Mac poster. I frowned. Then smiled. My heart gave a little flutter in my chest- she had given her poster to me. I didn't know why she would do that. But it was nice.
I didn't see her all day, but I was lying awake in the dark when she came in that night- alone, this time. I heard her fumbling quietly, probably getting changed. I waited til I heard the bed springs creak when she lay down, then I spoke into the darkness.
"Thank you."
"What?" She mumbled.
"Thank you. For the poster."
"Oh, yeah."
I heard her moving, then the lamp flicked on.
"Do you like it?"
"Of course I do," I propped myself up on my elbow.
"I thought you could do with something over there. It looked a little bare," she smiled, "It looks better there anyway."
"I... thank you. It was nice of you."
"And I wanted to say sorry. For, you know..."
"Calling me a frigid bitch?" I smirked.
"Yeah, that," she grimaced.
"You already did."
"Yeah, but... listen, I was just drunk. I didn't mean it."
"You did," I said quietly, "And I get it. I know how I come across."
She went quiet, looking guilty.
"It's okay," I said, "Really."
She looked at me for what felt like an awkwardly long time.
"You... You look good," she said decidedly.
I looked down at my checked nightshirt, my messy hair, and gave her a look.
"No, seriously. You're like a different person when you look comfy. Why d'you normally dress like a grandma?"
I looked down.
"Sorry... that was mean... again," she put her face to her palm.
"You're just being honest," I sighed, "I just... I don't know... my dad. He's... strict."
"I would never have guessed," she said sarcastically.
"He has a lot of... rules."
I chewed on my thumbnail, everything tensing up.
I think she sensed I didn't want to talk about it.
"Okay," she said gently, "Well... goodnight."
"Night," I said as she flipped the lamp off again.
I lay awake for a while, thinking about how much I hated being me. My whole life had been lived under dad's thumb, terrified to break or bend his rules. I was only allowed to wear what he wanted, do what he wanted, and it made me stand out for all the wrong reasons. Every rule had some kind of warped justification in the bible, though he didn't live by it himself behind closed doors. Sometimes I thought the whole strict Catholic thing was just another way of keeping me obedient. Or maybe his brain was just so twisted he couldn't see the hypocrisy.
Things began to feel more normal as the weeks went on. Classes started. I never spoke, I just listened. I loved it- we read books I knew and loved, books that were new, plays, poetry. I found it all so interesting.
Dad would call every few days. Mostly, he checked to see if I was staying in line. One, horrible time he had clearly been drinking, and said the most disgusting things, begging me to send pictures of myself and describing exactly what he wanted to do to me. That was a bad night.
Jen and I were polite to each other. We spoke a little, mostly about homework and stuff, but it was all very surface level. She had her own friends. I had my own company, my books, my guitar.
One time in class, I was sitting a row or two behind Jen and her friends.
"How are you getting on with that roommate?" One of them asked her.
She shrugged, "Fine, I guess."
"She's so weird. I don't know how you do it. I've never even heard her speak. Does she talk to you?"
"Yeah, I mean, sometimes."
"I literally think I saw her in a skirt my grandma has the other day. It's actually embarrassing."
I stared down at my notepad, trying not to listen.
"Don't be a dick," said Jen's voice.
My ears pricked.
"She's alright. She can't help it. I think it's kind of... cute."
Cute? I didn't know whether to be flattered or embarrassed.
"Honestly, put her in some better clothes, maybe a haircut, bit of makeup... she'd be pretty. I wish she'd make some friends. She needs someone to take her out, show her a good time. Help her relax a bit."
I cringed.
"Why don't you do it then?" Teased her friend.
She turned, giving her a look, "I'm not a babysitter."
My face flushed. I clenched my fists. And I made up my mind.
I went to my car straight after class- it was only a morning session, so I had all afternoon to spend. I searched on my phone for hairdressers nearby and called up the cheapest one- they had room for walk ins. I drove straight there.
When the hairdresser asked me what I wanted, I didn't know what to say. I had never been for a haircut on my own before- just trims.
"Um... I just wanna look... different. Better."
"Different? You want a drastic change?"
"Yes!"
"Buzz cut?" She joked.
"Maybe not that drastic."
"Okay, we'll keep it long... how about just some layers? You'd suit bangs too... we could blow out your waves."
I thought for a second, "Can you make it kind of... 70s? Like... like Stevie Nicks?"
"Oooh, yeah. Now we're talking."
I could have cried when I looked in the mirror when she was done. I gasped, my eyes flooding.
"What? Don't you like it?"
"I love it," I wiped my eyes, "I look so different!"
"You look great- if I do say so myself."
She patiently showed me how to style it with a blow dryer and round brush.
I needed clothes to match now. I must have gone around half a dozen thrift stores. I bought the kind of clothes I'd always wanted- quirky, vintage-looking pieces. Flowy skirts, crop-tops, funky jumpers, leather-look boots. I even bought my first ever pair of jeans- high waisted and flared. I was thankful I'd worked and saved so much before moving out.
My last stop was a drugstore. I googled all the different products I'd need for my full face and picked them up with a set of brushes. I'd need so many YouTube tutorials to work out how to use them all, but I was sure I could learn.
I beamed as I walked back to my car, shoving the bag into my full trunk. I couldn't wait to get back to my dorm and try everything on, have a go with the makeup. I had one last glance at my new hair in the rear view mirror, grinning, then drove back to campus.
Jen wasn't in when I got to the room, which was just what I wanted. I put on my new jeans with a green cropped tank top, admiring myself in the mirror. I looked like a completely different person. I put my hand over my mouth, my eyes streaming. I wiped them furiously. I couldn't help but enjoy the inch of skin that peeked out between the jeans and the tank top, and the way the top showed off my chest. I didn't think my body could look good.
I got started on the makeup then, glad I had gotten the tears out. I didn't do anything too heavy, but it still took me a few attempts and a lot of makeup wipes to make it look good. My favourite part was the black eyeliner framing my eyes. I tidied all the products and brushes away, throwing the wipes in the trash, and sat on my bed with a book.
I read the words on the page, but all I could think about was how I finally felt like myself. Like a whole person. I had never looked in a mirror before and liked what I saw. It felt magical.
Jen came in around dinner time, absent-mindedly throwing her bag down. She glanced at me, then did a double take.
"Oh... my god," she breathed, looking me up and down.
I tried to hide my smile. "What?"
"You look... what happened? You look so different!"
"Good, different?" I bit my lip.
She spluttered, "Amazing different! You don't even look like the same person."
"Good," I smiled, "That's exactly what I was going for."
"You gotta come out tonight. There's a party in one of the other blocks-"
"I dunno..."
"No, seriously. Get out and show off. Please. You'll have fun, I promise. I'll look out for you."
"Well... okay then," I smiled anxiously.
"Stand up," she said, "Give us a twirl."
I did so, feeling a little awkward.
"Grace, you look really beautiful. Honestly."
I blushed.
She sat down on her bed, crossing her legs.
"So what made you do this? Like... why now?"
I shrugged, "I just... decided," I lied, "I needed to change."
"You look really happy. It's nice seeing you smile."
"Thanks," I sat on my own bed.
"I can't wait to get you to a party- get a drink in you. You're gonna love it."
"I thought you weren't a babysitter." I said it without thinking. I was trying to be funny.
Her face fell, turning red, "I... God, how do you hear everything?"
"You don't exactly choose great moments to talk about me. The room we share... the class we both take."
"I know," she sighed, "Would a 'sorry' help?"
I smiled, "No need... as I recall, before you said that, you were actually being pretty nice about me."
She smiled gratefully, "How about a fresh start?"
"As long as I don't have to give back the poster," I joked.
"Of course not."
I held out my hand, "Hi, I'm Grace, nice to meet you."
She laughed and shook my hand.