Wonder

MEDIEVAL TORTURE DEVICES

"Jesus Christ Lyds, its a formal, not a wedding!"

Ariel McCall sat uncomfortably in one of the excess bedrooms in the Martin house. It was double the size of hers, with floor to ceiling windows and high ceilings. The floor was hardwood and the walls would have been white if they were visible. Every surface of wall that wasn't covered by mirrors or paintings of Marilyn Monroe was decorated by shelves and shelves of makeup. There was even an entire wall devoted to nail polish. Racks of designer clothing were color coordinated and the furniture was the color of pale rose.

Ariel sat at a desk, or a "vanity" as Lydia had called it. It was equipped with a large mirror and bright lights, as well as a frightening array of beauty supplies. Ariel had been sitting in the chair for a solid 45 minutes, with Lydia putting various things on her face and Allison doing something with her hair. She had no clue what was going on, but knew enough to want to get the hell out as fast as possible.

"Shut up and let me put on your lip gloss." Lydia rolled her eyes, her patience wearing thin as Ariel squirmed. She and Allison had finished early and devoted the rest of their time to getting Ariel ready, especially after she had shown up in a sneakers and a makeup less face. Apparently, Ariel was expecting to go to the formal dateless and wearing hobo chic, as Lydia had dubbed it.

"Didn't you already put that on? Like three times???" Ariel was close to losing it. When Lydia approached her lips with a tube of shiny liquid, she jolted away, only to get the burning end of a hair curler seared into her scalp. "Agh!" The pain was fleeting, only lasting a few seconds before it healed, but it brought tears to Ariel's eyes.

"Oh sorry!" Allison hissed, pulling the iron away from Ariel's head.

"Don't you dare cry and ruin my masterpiece!" Lydia was ruthless. "And I haven't put lip gloss on yet! It was a lush lip scrub, then lip liner and then the liquid lipstick. Now stop moving!"

"What the..." Ariel chose to shut up, allowing Lydia to lather more stuff on her lips as opposed to arguing. "Is this necessary?"

"Of course it is!" Allison cheered behind her. She met Ariel's eyes in the mirror and gave an encouraging grin. "You're gonna look beautiful!"

"I don't have anyone to look beautiful for." Ariel shrugged, shaking her hands to dry out her nails. They were painted a off white color that contrasted well with her skin and painting them had been the only thing that kept her in Lydias makeup chair. "Even if I did, who the fuck needs four layers of stuff on their lips?"

"Don't remind me." Lydia hissed angrily, rooting around in her vanity. "I cannot believe you're going alone. That's so lame!"

"Just because I'm not some jocks arm candy? Trust me, I've had enough of overconfident, egotistical, manipulative, lying, psychotic, murderous..." Ariel trailed off as she noticed the wide eyed looks she was getting from her friends. "I mean, boys suck! Ha, ha... haaaa."

"I have to agree with you on that." Allison nodded and the girls mentally agreed to not mention Ariel's accidental impassioned rant against murderers. They didn't need to know about her extremely complicated relationship with the Beacon Hills serial killer. "No offense Ariel, but your brothers an idiot."

"None taken." Ariel snorted loudly. "Scott can barely tell the difference between a girl and a strawberry. That's why I was so surprised when he started dating the nice new girl."