The Bad Girl Game

Chapter Two

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Chapter Two

I looked at myself in the floor length mirror and wondered what the hell I was supposed to do with the can of spray tan that I was holding. I'd already tried reading the instructions, but they didn't help much, so I closed my eyes and prayed that I was doing it right.

I pressed down the button at the top of the can, and a gush of cold air came out. Jumping out of the way, I fell into the cupboard and bashed my hip. "Ouch! Shit!" I muttered, first looking at my hip, then to the messy blob of tan on my right leg. How do these popular kids do it? For me, sitting out in the sun wasn't going to do anything except give me a nasty red blob, or skin cancer. Spray tanning was pretty much my only shot at looking good - for once.

Reaching for my phone, I instantly scrolled through my contacts to Bekky, and began typing a text for her to come over and help me put this stuff on. But then I remembered. Bekky and I weren't friends anymore, she didn't want me, and I didn't need her. Did I?

Well obviously when it comes to spray tanning, I do. But I was going to have to soldier on on my own, and try to forget that Bekky even existed. It was hard but if I was going to hold onto my sanity, then I was going to have to.

I shook the can up, preparing myself to try again. Again, a cold burst of air spat from the canister, settling on my legs. Despite shivering heavily, I carried on, trying to cover my whole body with the freezing mist. When I was finally finished, I set the can down on the edge of the bath and admired my handiwork.

The tan was blotchy. And orange. And I looked ridiculous, with a capital R.I.D.I.C.U.L.O.U.S.

Why would people do this daily?

I took the can back off the edge of the bath, pressing the button, and trying to fill in the blotches so that I at least looked presentable. Stretching my legs and arms out in front of me, I stood in awe at how good I looked without looking terminally ill. I shook out the bag from the dug store, full of makeup, then searched through the array of tiny bottles, boxes, tins and tubes to find a bottle of foundation. I unscrewed the cap and placed a dollop of the creamy tan coloured liquid onto my fingers, then rubbed it in in gentle circles. Once every blob was blended in, I pulled out the brozer compact and opened the packet of the brush I'd brought, and applied it onto my cheecks. I didn't have a clue what I was doing - I just hoped it would look okay once I'd finished.

I smoothed a layer of dark brown eye shadow over my lids, and pulled on the skin below my eyes and applied eyeliner in one think, black line. Pulling the plastic packaging off my new mascara, I pulled off the top and cautiously applied a layer to both top and bottom lashes. To finish off my new 'look', I put a layer of clear lip gloss over my lips and looked at myself in the mirror.

Every cell in my body told me to grab a wet wipe and wash all of these chemicals off my face. I resisted, and reminded myself to have one hell of a shower once this party was over.

Thankfully, my red hair was already ruler-straight. I was thankfull for my hair; it wasn't ginger, just a lovely shade of auburn-y red.