Justin and Elysandra have been best friends for as long as they can remember. But their friendship is put to the test as they both start university together. Will the pressure of college tear them apart, or push them closer than they ever thought po...
It's Friday night, and I'm getting ready for the hockey team's party. It's the first major party of the year, and everyone's going. It's supposed to be epic. I have to look good. Which is why I'm currently in a robe with a towel wrapped around my freshly washed hair, standing in front of my closet looking for the perfect outfit, and I've been doing so for what seems like forever. Justin will be here to walk me to his house for the party at eight. I think it'd make more sense if I were to just meet him there, but he insisted it'd be safer for me if I weren't walking around alone at night. Boys. Frustrated, I just grab a solid black mini dress with mesh detailing on the top, simple but sexy.
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After sliding on my dress, I walk over to my vanity to figure out what to do with my hair. I decide to go for an effortless look, settling on a wash and go. I add product and separate a few curls before blow drying it. I lay down my edges before I begin my makeup. I apply my usual base makeup, you know, foundation, contour, highlight, along with neutral eyeshadow to give my eyes dimension. I add winged eyeliner and a berry red lip stain. I know tonight is gonna be way too wild to touch up a lipstick. Just as I go to grab my heels, lace up of course, just in case I get sloppy drunk, I hear Justin's key in the door. I hurry to lace up my shoes, so he can't complain about how I'm always late.
"Who's ready to paaaaarty?" Justin says in his usual singsongy manner. I have to admit he looks good. His white button down complements his summer tan; his light wash jeans are perfectly fitted; his hair subtly styled to perfection. Who's he looking good for? But more importantly, who is he looking at? I notice him staring at me with a blank expression. Shit. It's probably my hair. I knew I should've done more with my hair. Is it too big? Lopsided. I'm starting to get paranoid because he's still staring.
"What?" I snap. I don't mean to be rude, but the staring is killing me. "If I look stupid, you can just tell me."
A confused look washes over his face, before he says, "No, Ely, it's not - you don't - I mean, you look good. Really good."
Now it is me who isn't saying anything. Butterflies flutter in my stomach, and my face gets hot. What the hell? He just said I look good. It's Justin, why am I making such a big deal out of this? "Thanks, you too, pal," I finally say. Pal? Pal??? God, I sound stupid. His face looks as disgusted as I feel at the word "pal."
"Are you okay?" Justin asks, looking genuinely concerned. Why does he have to be so nice?
"Yeah, just nervous, I guess. It's my first college party," I say, grimacing. "What if I embarrass myself? What if I look stupid? What if I-"
"Do a keg stand, and show the whole school your underwear?" Justin interrupts, mocking the look of paranoia I am probably wearing right now. That is, until his comment makes my face feign seriousness. "You have nothing to worry about. You look great. You know it, I know it, and soon, the whole school will know it. Just be yourself, don't sweat anyone else."
"Thanks, J. I really needed that," I say, pulling him into a hug. We linger there for what feels like a moment longer than we should have, until he gently pushed me away.
"You better not have gotten any makeup on me," he says, jokingly.
"Oh, really? You've got a problem with that?" I ask, teasingly, before pecking him on the cheek, leaving a soft lip print.
Justin looks at me mouth wide open before saying, "Oh no, you didn't!"
"Oh yes, I did, Bieber. What are you gonna do about it?" I retort. Before seeing him lunge at me with a devilish grin on his face. He grabs for me, but I jerk out of the way just in time, breaking into a sprint. "You may be fast on the ice, but I've got you beat on land," I yell behind me, running out of the dorms in the direction of the hockey house, Justin running after me. By the time he catches up to me, we are in front of the house, but he still hasn't given up. He grabs my waist. I struggle to get away, but it's no use. He's much stronger than me. He pecks me on the cheek, the same way I did to him. I feel the spot where he kissed me long after his lips left my skin.
