Empty Closet

Untitled Part 9

A warm breeze flows through the French doors I left open while I attempting to get ready. I curled the ends of my hair, it's a total waste of time they'll be flat again before I leave the house. My aunt bought me tons of makeup during our shopping excursion even after I told her I only use mascara. Pushing all the eye shadows and eyeliners to the side, I grab for the mascara. Twist the cap, pull the wand out and guide the brush over my lashes. Blink a few times, twist the cap back on and drop the tube back on the pile.

I walked in and out of my closet, three times. Also, I reapplied my deodorant three more times. I take a few steps in front of my bed, pivot on my toes and take a few more back. A soft knock at my door halts me.

"Come in." My voice is soft.

"How's it coming along in here?" Dior skips in, eyes me up and down. "Yuck! you aren't even close to being ready?" She jerks back clasping her hand over her mouth.

"Nope." I chew on my lip, sagging onto the edge of my bed with my feet planted firmly on the ground.

Dior shakes her head. "Well, how do I look?" She twirls multiple times in front of me, her long skinny arms and legs creating a slight breeze. The blue tube dress with black high heels she has on is stunning on her.

"You look great." The dress had to be a size 00. If she didn't have a healthy glow, she'd appear ill. Her stick legs stop moving and her arms fall to her side.

"Ok I look great, now what are you going to wear?" She places her hands on her hips, her already big icy blue eyes grow to the size of saucers.

"I have no idea." I throw my hands above my head, falling back flat on my bed. I prop myself up in my elbows, smiling up at Dior. "Will you please help me find the perfect outfit?" Pushing myself up, I place my hands together. "Please? I'm so nervous."

Her face lights up like a Christmas tree. "Yes." She yanks me off my bed and drags me into the closet in one swift movement. Well, I didn't expect that, she has incredible strength for a scrawny person.

"What do you think?" Dior asks after multiple outfit changes. She steps to the side for me to examine myself in the mirror.

My jaw hits the floor. "Dior, I look..." I can't form a sentence. I don't even recognize myself. Of course, it's me but a much better looking me. I admire at my reflection, loving how my off the shoulder sheer top and nude strapless bra looks. The way Dior watched me put on my bra was strange, but I brushed it off since she was being so nice and helpful.

Dior taps her foot, "so do you like what you see?" I ran my hands up and down my thighs. My super skinny jeans felt like a second layer of skin. We bickered back and forth about my shoes, she finally gave in and let me pick out my own. I stepped into my favorite black heels, simple yet beautiful and surprisingly comfortable.

My eyes moved back up to Dior, I could see her mouth moving, but I wasn't sure what she was saying. "What?" My voice cracked. I twist then turn and peer over my shoulder.

"I said, do you like what you see?" Her voice oozing with annoyance, her perfectly arched brows pinch together as her head tips to the side.

"Yes, I do. I look amazing. Thank you." Identical smiles stretch over our faces.

"Let's go then. Come on we have a party to get to. The way you look, I'm thinking we'll have to keep a lot of guys away from you, unless of course you want them flocking." Dior said over my shoulder looking at me through the mirror while she fluffs her hair.

I roll my eyes. "That never happens to me so it's safe to say I'm not worried about it tonight."

Dior took a long step in front of me. "You mean to tell me that guys don't constantly hit on you?"

"No, never." I attempt to swallow the lump in my throat.

"Either your lying or every male from wherever you lived," she waves her long arms in my face, "is blind."

"There was this one guy..."

Her shrill voice cut me off, "one guy?" Her body perks up, "Betsy have you ever had a boyfriend or went on a date?"

"Yes, don't be silly." I bit my lip. I don't have the nerve to tell her I'd only been to the movies or anywhere with guys who were my friends. There were a lot of good-looking guys at me old school, but no one ever really caught my attention. Well besides Josh and I still think that's why my mom sent me here.

"Whatever you say." She laughs, bending her arm, I lace mine through and we then glide down the stairs in perfect sync. Ok this might be good, maybe I do want a sister like my mom had said.

My aunts standing at the bottom of the stairs. "Are you two heading out for the evening?" She glances at me, her hand over her heart. "Betsy dear you look amazing."

"Thank you, Aunt Cathy." I grin, my cheeks slightly tingle.

"Party at Nate's house." Dior bends down to kiss her mom's cheek.

"Have fun and be safe." Cathy winks.

"We will," we say simultaneously running out the front door.

Sitting in Dior's Audi R8 I realized I'm truly happy for the first time since I've gotten here. All my fears and ill feelings about the move have vanished. This could be my home, maybe I do belong here. Everyone I meet today seems awesome, well maybe not creepy Vonn, but there's creepy guys everywhere. Plus, Dylan. Ok don't even go there he has a girlfriend who happens to be your cousin. My evil subconscious reminds me that he held my hand longer than necessary today and was staring at me just as much as I was staring at his beautiful bright green hypnotic eyes. I shake my head out of day dreaming and focus on the here and now.

"This is my favorite song," Dior screams, cranking up the stereo, the music takes over the interior and the seats rumble.

"Oh, mine too!" I bop my head as we sing off key. Dior speeds down the drive, blasting past the guard's station.