Old Soul

Chapter Twenty-Five: Prom Night

Like a scene in a completely unrealistic Disney movie, I wake up to the sound of birds chirping. I sit up, yawning, rubbing my eyes to get the crust out of them. Ready to fight the feathered fiends that woke me up, I stand up. I go to stomp over to my window when I trip over something, becoming acquainted with the cold hardwood floor. I groan and sit up, only to come face-to-face with Rosalie, who's holding her phone in her hand—the source of the bird sounds.

"Guess it really does work."

"What do you want?" I groan, about to pull myself back into bed when she snags the back of my shirt, effectively stopping me.

"I'm rescuing you."

"Pretty sure this counts as torture."

"Either I kidnap you and get you ready for prom, or Alice does. Your choice." Rosalie sits back, positive her ultimatum will sway me to her side. I glare at her for a beat before turning on my heel and going to get ready in the bathroom.

Teeth brushed, hair fixed, and pedestrian clothes on, Rosalie marches me out to her convertible, telling my parents that we'll be back "in a bit."

Once at her house, she sets me down in her massive bathroom, surrounded by enough beauty products to stock a Sephora. Leaning against the doorframe, Rosalie looks unsure.

"Do you want me to do your makeup, or would you rather do it yourself?"

"I think I got it. If I need you, I'll call. I will probably need your help with my hair, though."

"You got it." With a tentative smile, Rosalie leaves the bathroom.

"Oh, and Rosalie?" I call out. The blonde appears immediately, her face expectant.

"Thanks. For not letting Alice kidnap me."

"Sure." With a nod, Rosalie leaves again.

I start swatching products, trying to find the right match for my skin tone and to get a feel for the products laid out before me. I select a foundation, and after applying primer, begin to apply it, slowly building up my makeup a bit heavier than I normally would. Once my base is applied, blended, and seamless, I move on to my eyes, priming them for the eye shadow I'm about to put on. I grab a palette filled with berry tones, slowly deepening up my crease until it's a cross between a deep plum and red. To add some sparkle, I add a silver shimmery shade to my lid, blending the edges to prevent it from looking too harsh. Saying a prayer, I grab a liquid eyeliner pen and bring it to my left eye. Whatever deity heard my prayer answered it graciously, and my eyeliner is winged and smooth without being too thick. I'm about to go in with mascara when Rosalie appears.

"I was told to get these on you "at any cost."" She holds out a pair of thick, full, and jet-black false lashes.

"These are huge! I'm not trying to have my eyelids lifting weights all night." I complain, handing the box back to Rosalie.

"Will you compromise with a less dramatic pair?" I consider the proposal, tapping my chin with the tube of mascara in my hands. I finally nod, figuring it was probably the best deal I was going to get. Rosalie returns a second later, a smaller, thinner pair of lashes in a cartridge that she hands to me. I thank her, pulling them out and gluing them to my eyelids, sealing the false and real lashes together with the mascara. I consider the rainbow array of lipsticks in front of me, my eyes scanning the rows of pinks, reds, purples, and nudes in front of me. I pluck one from the lineup, a pink shade a few shades deeper than my natural lip color. Sliding the creamy color along the path of my lips, I watch them become more noticeable and plump.