The Summer Solstice

Chapter 6: Kassia

🌿 Kassia 🌿

Friday rolls around quicker than I realize.

This is not the first party Ben has held, but it's the first I plan on attending. Or rather, the first Gwen and Ty have suckered me into. At least once a day they mentioned it, and between them and the whispers about the party in the halls, I'd be surprised if the teachers didn't know about it.

In a small town, house parties are the biggest source of fun we have. Well, that and the state fair. It's kind of pathetic, honestly.

Despite all the tension we'd probably have, I always wish dad would take me with him on his work trips, wherever that was. It must be more exciting than here.

"Don't look so gloomy, Kass," Ty says from Gwen's bed. A book lays out in front of him, the pages covered in long equations. He's obsessed with physics.

I glare at him. "Easy for you to say. Gwen isn't picking out your entire outfit for you like it's your first day of kindergarten."

Gwen smacks me with her curling iron, thankfully not yet plugged in. She's perched above me, preparing to give—in her words—"The best damn makeover Beauville has ever seen."

In all fairness, she does have immense talent for appearance-related skills. She dyes and cuts her own hair. Her makeup never looks old or boring. And her clothes. She thrifts everything, sometimes patching up holes or combining fabrics on her sewing machine. It all looks incredibly fashionable when she puts it together.

I, on the other hand, enjoy comfortability in my clothes. Plus, I don't want vibrant colors, pixie skirts, or immaculate layers drawing attention to myself. My birthmark and random naps have that covered. Gwen loves being in the spotlight—literally, as a performer—so that's why it's so comical to see her shy away from Ximena.

Compared to my lipgloss and occasional mascara appliance, Gwen's a goddess. And, as I stare at myself in her grimy mirror, I determine she might also be a fairy god mother.

I look different. But a good different. My pale skin isn't hiding under a layer of bronzer thankfully, but I do have blush low on my cheekbones, giving me some color. My eyelashes are longer and darker than I've seen them before, and I gleam with shimmery, nude eyeshadow. It brings out the redness of my hair.

"I don't need to pick out Ty's clothing because I know he won't wear sweat pants to a party," Gwen says as she plugs in the curling iron.

Ty looks up from his book again, smiling. "It's true. I'm a man of many talents—intelligence and recognizing social norms."

He does look well suited for a house party. Compared to his normal attire of button downs and chino pants, his rock-band t shirt and jeans are far more laid back. His black curly hair is touched up and has a fresh fade.

I look up at Gwen with pleading eyes. "I wasn't going to wear sweatpants, I swear! I just forgot my bag at the shop. It had skinny jeans in it!"

Gwen let loose another curl of my hair. It lands warmly on my skin and tickles my neck. "A brilliant story, but you look better in my clothes anyway."

After realizing that all I had were sweatpants and a hoodie, Gwen immediately ripped through her closet and procured the most-me thing she could find: black jeans, a thick chain belt, and a baby blue tank top that brought out my eye color. I did indeed look good. Even with my birthmark.

Thirty minutes later, Gwen lets out a massive sigh. "Finally! My arms are killing me. You're lucky you have such nice hair, Kass. I still wish you'd let me dye it..."

"Use Ty," I suggest, standing up from the chair. "I like my red hair as it is."

"No thanks," I hear him mutter.

I glance once more in the mirror—my hair has become layers of deep, heavy curls. "You do amazing work," I tell her.