A/N: Still don't own them, still wish I did :)
Thank you so much to those of you who have been reviewing. I love each and every review, and I've really enjoyed the conversations that have developed out of some of the comments. You guys keep me writing!
And without further ado…the day of the non-date! Note that the non-date night is actually split into two chapters, so don't kill me when you get to the end of this one please :P It just grew into a monster, so I'm splitting it and posting them close together.
----------
BPOV
My week had been going so well.
The classes I was taking as a Masters candidate were intriguing. The classes I was teaching as a TA went smoothly. I hadn't had any papers to write or grade, so I had plenty of time to play WoW and hang out with Jasper and Alice. Our guild had added two new bosses to our killsheet. The apartment was clean. I'd tried out a new recipe and had both Jasper and Alice rave about it. Jasper and I had kept up a running Cowboy Bebop marathon every night, and we'd just watched my favorite episodes – both parts of "The Real Folk Blues" – last night. My last class of the afternoon had been canceled, and I'd gone for a fantastic run through town today in its place.
So where did it all go wrong?
Had my week been too good, and this was some sort of metaphysical balance being exacted by the universe?
Had I accidentally run over someone's cat, and karma was out to kick my ass?
Whatever the cause, I was now in my own personal hell.
Literally.
I sighed.
Alice looked at my reflection in the mirror and grinned, completely unruffled by my obvious lack of enthusiasm for her current project.
Unfortunately, that current project was…me. Alice had gone from looking at me like a science experiment to actually treating me like one.
It was 3:30 on Friday afternoon, and we were in my bathroom, completely surrounded by "product," as Alice called the countless bottles and jars strewn across my counter. For some reason, Alice had deemed it necessary to start now to have me presentable in time for the 7:30 movie tonight.
Seriously, was I that hideous?
Even worse, I'd taken a look in my closet earlier today, and I'd been satisfied that there was nothing too terrible for Alice to pick out for me to wear tonight. After all, I'd been weeding things that made me uncomfortable out of my wardrobe for years, so I really was left with only clothes I felt okay wearing. So, surely, whatever she chose would be fine, right?
How wrong I was.
I didn't realize that Alice had an addiction to shopping. I also didn't realize that she had an uncanny ability to tell someone's size by sight alone. And, finally, I didn't realize that the clothes I'd worn around Alice had offended her sensibilities enough that she had decided I couldn't possibly have anything in my wardrobe worth wearing.
So, not realizing any of these things, I'd been totally unprepared when she'd shown up at my door with not one…or two…but three bags from the mall. She said she'd even bought new underwear for me, for fuck's sake.
I sighed again.
I hadn't even seen the "adorable outfit" she'd chosen for me to wear tonight. Apparently, my face – despite the fact that I'd told her I would wear only mascara and lip gloss – was going to take some time, and she wanted to save the clothes as the last surprise.
So as I sat on the chair Alice had moved into my bathroom, I kept eyeing the bags on my bed, and they seemed to grow larger and more terrifying with every passing second. I cringed to think of what Alice might have chosen. Her clothes, while absolutely adorable on her, were way too revealing for me.
I bit my bottom lip, trying to stave off the panic that was threatening to set in.
Alice was idly playing with my hair – even though a hairstyle was not part of our deal – as she looked at my profile in the mirror. Suddenly, she seemed to snap out of whatever reverie she was in.
"Alright, time for you to shower," she said.
"But I just took a shower after my run two hours ago!" I protested.
"Bella," Alice said with exaggerated patience, like a mother explaining something to a toddler, "you need to take a shower so I have a clean slate. You need to wash with this" – she handed me a bottle of something – "scrub your face with this" – a jar this time – "and wash your hair again, using this conditioner. When you get out, put this on." With the last statement, she handed me a new soft white robe, another mall purchase.
"Alice…" I was trying really hard not to whine, but I'm not sure I was succeeding. "Why does it matter what I wash with?"
Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say because Alice's eyes just about popped out of her head, and she started sputtering, not even able to get any words out.
"Okay, okay, never mind!" I mumbled, grabbing the product out of her hands. Cradling the containers to my chest, I put my free hand on Alice's shoulder and pointed her toward the bathroom door, pushing her lightly.
As I closed the door, she finally found her voice again, calling out, "When you use the conditioner, remember to start at the ends and work your way up! And leave it in for five minutes!"
I rolled my eyes, turning the lock on the door. I leaned into my shower, dropping the products unceremoniously on my shelf before turning on the water. As I straightened up, sliding the shower door closed, I couldn't help but smile. At least I'd get a nice, relaxing hot shower out of this ordeal. And the longer I stayed in the shower, the less time I had to spend under Alice's torturing hands.
I leaned back against the bathroom counter, surveying the frightening array of items Alice had brought. I couldn't even imagine what some of them would be used for – a few, I was sure, were actual torture devices of the type banned by the UN Committee against Torture.
Biting my lip, I pushed myself off the counter and slipped out of my clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor. I smiled and exhaled with a contented sigh as I stepped into the shower, feeling the steaming hot water pouring over my body, soothing the slight ache of my muscles from my run.
After a few minutes of simply standing there, I picked up the body wash Alice had given me, noting that it was "extra moisturizing" and "calming." I grinned to myself. Maybe Alice knew me better than I thought. I popped open the top and squirted it onto my body sponge, inhaling and catching the fragrance of lavender and vanilla. It wasn't bad, though I think I preferred my normal freesia.
I washed myself slowly, and then picked up the small jar Alice had given me for my face. I opened it, examining it curiously. It smelled of ginger and lime – I heartily approved. Still, it looked lumpy, and there was a plastic…thing in it, similar to the little wooden spoons you get with individual ice cream cups. I frowned and turned the jar, reading the instructions.
Then I shrugged, scooped out a bit of the scrub onto my fingertips and began rubbing it into the skin of my face, struck instantly with the idea that I was scrubbing with sandpaper. Dear god, why would people voluntarily go through all of this? Making a face, I left it on for a couple of minutes before turning my face under the shower head, letting it rinse away. Experimentally, I touched my face, and it felt…sticky. That can't be right.
I picked up the little jar and turned it to the ingredients. I rolled my eyes when I saw "sugar" listed first. So that's what felt like sandpaper…
Retrieving my body wash again, I squirted a small amount of it onto my fingers and re-washed my face. I didn't know if that would be a Tinkerbell-approved maneuver, nor did I care.
That done, I washed my hair and used the conditioner she had provided, taking care to make sure I followed her instructions and worked from the ends up. I had no idea what any of this was for – I mean, honestly, how can my hair tell if I put this stuff on the bottom or top first?? But since I'd agreed to let Alice have her fun, I was going to follow through as best I could…so long as she played nice, of course.
While my hair was conditioning, I decided to shave, having skipped it after my run earlier. I hummed to myself, noting that the water was starting to cool slightly, and when I was finished, I rinsed my hair and turned off the water, stepping out of the shower into a bank of steam clouding up the bathroom.
I dried quickly, never enjoying the way my skin cooled after a shower, raising goose bumps. I wrapped a towel around my hair, threw on the little white robe Alice had gotten me – noting with a blush that it ended at mid-thigh – and pulled open the door, singing, "Alright, I'm all done!"
And then I promptly collapsed onto the floor, back against the cabinet, head between my knees. My breath came in ragged pants, and I could feel myself shaking and my eyes tearing up. I scrubbed at my eyes, trying to rid myself of the flashes ransacking my mind.
Anger. Hatred. Loss. Pain. Ripping. Tearing. Bleeding. Beating. Evil. Blue eyes.
Breaking.
Breaking.
Breaking.
"Bella?!" Alice yelled, and I heard the shoes she had been holding fall to the floor with two distinct thumps. I felt her small hands cradle my head, and I jumped, a sob escaping my lips.
"Bella, are you okay?" Alice's voice was panicked, and I struggled to pull myself out of the memories threatening to drown me.
I gasped for breath, fists pressing against my eyes as I worked to calm myself down. As I felt the panic start to fade into the background, I felt new emotions beginning to burn within me.
Rage.
Disgust.
Disappointment.
This time, though, all of these were directed at myself. What the fuck was wrong with me?
I had looked out of the bathroom to see Alice examining a new pair of Mary Janes with a smile. That's all. A girl looking at a fucking pair of shoes.
The anger helped me calm my panting and shaking, and I slowly looked up at Alice. Her face was horrorstruck, and her hands kept fluttering as if she couldn't decide whether it was safe to touch me or not. Wiping away the last of my tears, I managed to give her a weak smile.
She has to think I'm insane now.
Hell, I think I'm insane now…
"I'm okay…really. That was…" I grimaced, not even knowing how to explain any of it. It wasn't the shoes, exactly – it was thinking I would have to wear them. I really didn't want to get into the whole story with Alice, especially not right now. It was too painful and humiliating, and I couldn't drag those memories up if I was expected to act normal in a few hours.
In the end, I just shrugged, not finding any more words.
"It's alright, Bella…you're alright," Alice said, a soft, caring smile on her face. She hugged me lightly, a little awkwardly as I was sitting on the floor in a robe that barely covered my butt when I was standing.
I finally laughed at the whole situation. My ridiculous position on the floor, this silly robe, Alice's concern with fashion, our night out…all of it just seemed funny to me all of a sudden.
Alice looked at my face and finally cracked a real smile. "I didn't think my new shoes were that ugly," she said with mock disappointment.
I loved her a little bit more then. She didn't know what, exactly, was bothering me, but she pieced together what I'd said about heels with my reaction to her holding a pair…and she was letting me know that it was okay – okay that I wasn't telling her and okay that whatever had happened to me left me in fear of shoes, of all things. She was also letting me know, subtly, that I wouldn't be expected to wear those shoes.
I gave her a genuine smile and hugged her tightly, even kissing her cheek. "Just think what would have happened if you'd bought me a pair of stilettos." I grinned at her, a little in acknowledgement that yes, I was really that fucking weird about shoes. I was frustrated that my voice was still a little shaky.
She smiled back. "I think we'll start a bit more slowly. Here, these are the shoes I got for you." She stood up then, clapping her hands as she skipped to the bed. She dug into one of the bags and came back with a box that left me cautiously optimistic.
"Converse? I get to wear Converse?" I asked, not daring to hope.
"Open the box, silly!" the pixie commanded.
I obeyed, and I lifted out a pair of tan shoes. "Chucks! Oh my god, Alice! These are awesome!" It was my turn to squeal as my relief at not being forced to wear Mary Janes met my excitement over a new pair of Converse.
Then I realized something else…if the fashionista was letting me wear Chucks, there was no way she was forcing me into anything too terrible. I bit my bottom lip, beginning to look forward to tonight and even to hanging out with Alice, getting ready. A little bit.
And then I remembered the product strewn across my counter, and my budding excitement faded into a resigned sigh.
To be completely honest, the afternoon wasn't wholly terrible. Alice chattered incessantly, talking about school and Jasper and the fashion show she was helping run tomorrow. The whole time she was talking, she was working on me. She brushed my face with something, leaving it tingling, before soothing it with some sort of moisturizer. She made me rub lotion over my entire body, and I had to laugh at the slight shimmer it left on my skin. I was poked and prodded and pulled and rubbed and covered in countless textures and smells. I never knew that anyone even could spend this long getting ready.
There were really only two truly torturous moments. The first was when Alice attacked me with the eyelash curler. The second was when she brought out her manicure set, insisting that I had never told her she couldn't do my nails – and since it wasn't strictly prohibited, it counted as part of getting me ready. I started to argue and then just gave up, renegotiating instead. I managed to convince her that I didn't want any color on my nails, and she settled on a French manicure. So I stared ahead while Alice pushed back my cuticles, trimmed them, buffed my nails, and did who knows what else before proclaiming that my hands were "delicious." Seriously…delicious?
Finally, Alice let my hair down out of the towel and handed me my hair dryer. She had such a dejected look on her face – I could tell she was itching to play with my hair. And she was being so good about it, not even bringing it up again, just handing me the dryer so I could fix it however I wanted.
Ahh, what the hell…
"Hey, Alice?" I began.
"Yeah?" the pitiful pixie pouted. She really was cute when she was all sad like that.
"I was wondering…" I smiled, biting my lip as I drug it out a bit.
"What?" she furrowed her brow, a little impatient in her petulance.
"Would you mind drying my hair?" I grinned as I watched her smile beam across her face in the mirror.
"Nothing different," I said sternly. "Just brush it and dry it, and it can stay straight like it normally does." I knew she would add a little something, but I hoped that warning would keep it small. I kind of wanted to offer her a little something in appreciation for how she had understood earlier and just dropped everything.
The dryer was too loud for us to talk while she worked on my hair, but I watched her in the mirror as she smiled happily. She would run her fingers through my hair with a wistful expression, and I wondered if she sometimes wished she had long hair. She curled the ends around a round brush she'd brought with her, but she restrained herself otherwise. When she finished, my hair was parted in the middle like always, but she had somehow made it brush back a little at the sides, framing my face with gentle waves. The ends curled under, giving me a softer look than I normally had. It looked…pretty. Huh.
Finally, she clicked the dryer off, dropping it on the counter. She turned to me and squealed, genuine excitement in her eyes. "It's time!" she announced and then danced over to the bed, where she started pulling items from her bags. I followed behind a few steps, looking over curiously.
When she returned, she handed them to me, and I had to admit that it didn't look all that bad. Not something I would've picked out myself, but…somehow, it still looked like me.
"Now, don't look in the mirror! I want to be there when you see yourself." Quickly giving some instructions, she pushed me back into the bathroom with a "Hurry up!"
"Why do I need to hurry, Alice?" I was confused.
Alice trilled a laugh. "Because it's 6:30, silly! I wonder where Jasper is…" she muttered the last part to herself.
6:30? No way…
She pulled the door closed just as I heard her phone ringing.
I heard her answer, but I wasn't paying attention. Instead, I was staring in horror at the tiny blue lace panties and matching bra Alice expected me to wear tonight. Just looking at them made me blush. I'd definitely never owned anything like this before.
A knock on the door forced me out of my dumbfounded moment. "Bella? That was Jasper. He's going to have to meet us there…Dr. Goodson is keeping him late again." There was a pout in Alice's voice.
I shook my head, trying to clear it, and started removing tags. I slowly slipped out of my robe and started getting dressed. The underwear felt strange to me, and I found myself squirming and fidgeting as I tried to get used to it. I felt a little better when I shook out the blue jeans Alice had given me. They had little flowers embroidered on the pockets and near the bottoms, but they were boot cut and looked comfortable. When I unfolded the shirt, I actually smiled. It was so pretty! It was blue and short sleeved with a short collar, and it was fairly plain, with just enough decoration. I loved it!
I dressed quickly after that, noting with a snort that Alice had even included new socks, as if I couldn't manage that much on my own. I was careful to follow her instructions, not looking in the mirror as I adjusted and made sure everything seemed to be hanging right. I took a deep breath and opened the door.
Alice squealed. Then she darted forward and hugged me, gushing, "Ohmygod! You look so pretty, Bella!!" She clapped her hands with delight.
She stepped back, viewing me with her critical fashionista eye. She adjusted a few things here and there, pushing hair back over my shoulder, pulling on the hem of my shirt, before she finally said, "Okay, close your eyes!"
I obeyed, and she turned me around, moving me just so before she sang, "Open them!"
I opened my eyes and blinked. It was…amazing the difference Alice's day of torture had made. I looked…well…pretty. Maybe even more. I was still me – the basics hadn't changed – but my face and hair were softer somehow, my eyes more defined. My lips seemed almost obscenely prominent to me – I wouldn't even notice on someone else, but as I never wore lip gloss, they seemed to be screaming from the mirror. My hair curled and waved around my shoulders and face, creating a delicate frame.
It took me a moment to realize Alice was babbling at top speed, obviously pleased with her results. "And the pintucking and Cluny lace insets in that shirt are just perfect – they scream Bella! Do you like the fabric? It's cotton voile…maybe a little cool for October, but you can't worry about that when you're dealing with fashion, you know?" She continued to ramble, and I let her words wash over me, as I adjusted to the sight before me.
You look like…a…girl…
Even my inner voice was stunned. Wonderful.
I turned left and right and slowly began to smile. For the first time in seven years, I was dressed like a girl and felt confident instead of self-conscious. Alice was a genius.
I giggled suddenly and hugged Alice. She laughed and said she was glad I approved. And I really did.
Looking at her watch, Alice realized it was time to leave, and I started packing up her things until she looked at me, confused. "Those are yours," she said, gesturing with her hand to all the bottles and jars covering my counter.
"Oh," I said lamely. Like I'd even know how to use them.
Alice laughed at my expression and grabbed my hand, pulling me out of the bathroom and turning off the lights. I plopped onto my bed and began pulling on my new Converse while Alice huffed. I could tell that she was plotting how to get me to act more like a lady next.
"Don't even think about it, Tink," I said in a teasing tone but totally serious.
As I finished tying my shoes, I glanced over to Alice's feet and noticed she was still wearing the shoes she had on earlier rather than the Mary Janes that would have matched her outfit perfectly. I gave a small internal smile at her kindness.
We decided to take Alice's car because she refused to be seen in my old beat up truck. As she slid behind the wheel and started the car, she began flipping through stations, finding a song she liked and turning it up full blast.
Figures…I should have known she'd like pop. She's such a girl.
I couldn't help but grin. She sang along as she drove, never missing a word. By the time we got to the theater, my ears were beginning to ring a bit, and I was staring out the window. Alice got lucky, and an older woman was pulling out of a space right near the curb as we pulled up. As she was parking, I glanced out, looking for Jasper, and spotted…
Oh. My. God.
The first thing I noticed was odd, bronze-colored hair standing up in all directions as he ran his fingers through it. Then I noticed the toned muscles of the arm attached to that hand, easily visible through the snug shirt he wore. I admired the width of his shoulders and the way his torso narrowed to his waist. And then he turned and I saw his face.
Holy. Fuck.
There were no words. None at all. My thoughts scattered, and I could pick up only bits and pieces – piercing green eyes, full, kissable lips, a knowing smirk as he spoke.
I felt a strange longing as I watched him. Strange because I never reacted this way. Never. I never even really looked at a guy long enough to decide if he was handsome or not. All I ever cared about was if a guy was nice and funny and easy to get along with. And I…could not take my eyes off this man.
In that moment, I felt the most bewildering combination of emotions I have ever experienced. I felt elated at the sheer joy of such an attraction. Confused by my intense reaction when I had all but avoided men except as my dearest friends for the past seven years. Excited by the possibilities this attraction might hold for me. Despair when I realized there was a reason I never date. A very real reason that I couldn't just ignore because – for the first time ever – I felt a pull to someone so strong that it was impossible to forget.
"Bella? You okay?" Alice's voice pulled me out of my bittersweet musings, and I turned to her with a brilliant "Huh?", my mouth still hanging open.
Alice giggled and looked past me, saying, "Oh, good! The boys are both here!"
I followed her gaze.
No fucking way!
Jasper – my Jasper – was talking to Mr. Dazzling.
"Alice, who is that Jasper's talking to?" I struggled to keep my voice normal.
"Oh, that's Edward!" Of course.
Karma's a bitch.
As the thought passed through my head, I couldn't decide if I meant that this Edward was a torment for my behavior…or a reward.
No comments:
Post a Comment