Hannah successfully transformed me within two hours. Most of the time was devoted to straightening my curly hair. And while I wouldn't bother wasting so much time on a temporary fix again, I had to marvel at the ease in which I could run a comb through my hair. I was instantly envious of every girl who bemoaned her straight locks that refused to hold a curl.
Straightened, my hair reached the top of my jeans. Even I gaped at how long it was when it lost its curl.
She'd also somehow magnified my eyes. I'd never worn makeup before and couldn't justify the cost of items you'd just clean off at the end of the day, but I had to admit the effect of large, outlined eyes made my face almost pretty. As long as it was paired with some kind of foundation to cover up my freckles, that was.
To complete it all, Hannah added some blush to my cheek bones (as if I didn't redden enough naturally), a sparkly peach eye shadow, and a clear lip gloss. Then she let me look in the mirror.
I stared at this other girl who was undeniably me, but also foreign. More sophisticated, older, tamed. "To be honest, I thought you were going to do something a lot more..."
"Garish?" Hannah supplied. "With bright purple eye shadow up to your eyebrows and black lipstick?"
I nodded.
"What do you take me for, an amateur? The natural look suits you best, not some bold look meant for the club." She was applying lip gloss to herself, and she made smooches to herself in the mirror.
She may have vastly improved my appearance, but I thought her touches to herself really brought out her beauty. With her fairer hair and unblemished skin, she needed less work and thus seemed less "fake." Her dangly earrings would glint in the firelight, I knew, as would her lip gloss with its wet shine.
"Now, time for the finishing touches. Ta-da!" She opened her closet and spread her arms wide to display a set of clothes on a hanger. I had to stare at the outfit for awhile before I realized what it was.
"A dress? In this weather?"
"Don't worry; you'll have leggings, and the dress is wool or something like that. It's too bad you don't have knee-high boots, though." Hannah almost chewed her lip, but she must have remembered the lip gloss, because she quickly released it from her teeth. "What size shoe are you?"
"Five," I answered.
"That's tiny! Sheesh, I'm an eight. Well, you could try a pair of mine with some thick socks added to try to make them fit better." She held out a long pair of boots complete with heels.
Thinking of how easily I tripped wearing simple platform shoes, I opted to forgo the boots, even if it completely ruined Hannah's outfit. My scuffed-up hiking boots would suffice. She relented after I reminded her of my sprained ankle that was still recovering. I didn't limp when I walked anymore, but the fading green of the bruise and the dull ache when my ankle was in certain positions ensured I didn't forget the injury. Besides, this event was a bonfire. Comfort was key, not appearance. I wisely kept that thought to myself, though.
Despite my trepidation, I wore Hannah's wool dress. It felt a little tight in the hips, and I couldn't believe how snugly it held my body. When I glanced in the mirror, I began taking it off.
"What are you doing? Leave that on!"
"I look terrible!" I didn't need my classmates to see so precisely what shape my body was. I wasn't as slim as Hannah, and my pear-shaped body did not align with model beauty standards. Anyone who looked like this didn't want attention drawn to it. I preferred baggy clothes for that reason.
"You're going to ruin my makeup. Just stay still." Hannah tugged the dress back into place and put her hands on her hips. "Now, what's so bad about this?"
YOU ARE READING
Paying the Piper
Teen FictionDeals with the devil are always tricky, especially when it was someone else who sold your soul to the devil. Faye Wulfgaar has always had bad luck. She figured it worked like a genetic trait: red hair, shy, conscientious, and unlucky. She never t...
