The Necromancer

Six

"Can you get your fat head out of the way!" Jen wailed at Lilah, using her hip to knock her aside, out of the mirror the size of a spiral notebook.

"Ow!" Lilah shouted back, gripping her stick of eyeliner like it was a deadly weapon. "J! You almost messed up my wing!"

Jen shrugged, her lips forming an "O" as she applied mascara. Amused, I shuffled through the selection of clothes Lilah had set out on her bed. Fabrics of every color, material, and style were strewn across her comforter.

Lilah had insisted that I be her human dress-up doll. A blank canvas ready to be painted; clay ready to be shaped and molded. It wasn't enough that I'd agreed to go to this stupid party—and now, to have no freedom to choose my own wardrobe?

Sure, I could have thrown a fit, whined a little and gotten my way, but that would just be a waste of energy. Lilah had been hurt when I'd left. If letting her play dress-up was going to mend the minor cracks in our friendship, I'd let her dress me up every day for the rest of my life.

Lilah made a show of stomping away to help me. Jen didn't bat an eye.

"Okay, let me see here," Lilah murmured, sifting through the pile. "This." Toss. "This." Toss. "And this." Toss.

I caught all three items and proceeded to the bathroom without looking at them. Sighing, I stripped off my garb and began pulling on Lilah's. It was convenient that Lilah and I were relatively close in size. It was normal for the two of us to borrow each other's things. Poor Jen, however, was 5'4 and very petite. Her clothes were comically small on us—like children's clothes.

Lilah's voice came through the crack of the door, loud and clear. "Make sure you tuck it in or it won't have the right effect. And you have to have the jacket with it."

"Fiiine," I grumbled, tucking in the shirt.

I peered in the mirror. She'd chosen a pair of high-waisted, dark jean shorts and a thin, strapless, black cami, as well as a fitted army jacket. Skeptically, I yelled through the door, "I'm not so sure about the jacket. I'm gonna look like a tool bag."

"No you won't, I promise. Just put the damn thing on and come out here. Oh! And make sure you wear your boots with it—you know, the black laced ones."

I pulled the jacket on and rejoined my girls, pulling on my boots before facing Lilah. I held my arms out wide, feeling like a fool. "What do you think?"

Lilah blinked once—twice—before leaning over and smacking Jen's arm. "Ow!" she began, but then looked to where Lilah was gesturing. "Damn, girl. You're gonna catch a husband with that outfit."

I chuckled.

Lilah grinned from ear to ear, clearly satisfied. "Not to toot my own horn or anything, but damn I am good."

I threw myself onto the cluttered bed, wincing as a heel dug into my back. Pulling it free, I dropped it over the side of the bed and closed my eyes. "I'm ready to go so if you guys could hurry up, that would be great."

"Don't be impatient," Jen said, once again looking in the little mirror above the vanity. "It's not an attractive quality."

"Neither is vanity, but you're sitting at one."

Lilah snorted but once again, Jen was unaffected.

"Fun sponge," I muttered.