Page 255 of Small Town Firsts

She says something else, but I’m too busy plotting to pay her any more attention.

CHAPTER 14

EMMY

“Do we have to go?”I whine, tossing myself back onto my bed.

“Babe. It’s our first real college weekend. It’s a rite of passage. Wehaveto,” Stella continues rifling through my closet. “Plus, Melanie said she really wants us all in attendance.”

“Ugh!” I throw my hands over my face. “Fine.”

“Yay—oh! You have to wear this skirt with a top I have!” She tosses my oldest, most favorite denim skirt my way. I’ve had the damn thing since I was fifteen. It’s distressed and soft-as-silk from wear.

“What top?” I ask, suspicious.

“Just trust me?”

I bark out a laugh. “Solid maybe.”

“Please?” She pouts with big puppy eyes.

“I’ll try it on,” I concede, “but no promises.”

She shrugs. “Good enough. Do you need to shower?”

“I’m good,” I say, having showered this morning. Plus, I can use the free time to do some research for my psych paper, since I’m doing the work of two people.

An hour later, Stella emerges from the bathroom looking like a Victoria’s Secret model with her blonde hair styled in soft, beachy waves and her face made up in a way where it’s hardto tell if she’s wearing makeup or is simply blessed with perfect skin.

All I have to show for my sixty minutes is a sizable list of source documents to hunt down in the library and online.

“Do you want me to do your hair?” she asks, but I wave her off.

“Nah, I’ve got it. You finish getting ready.”

I plug my flatiron in and begin the process of smoothing out my long, thick, nearly waist-length hair. Once it’s silky-straight, I start on my makeup.

I waffle for a moment between subtle and bold. Old me would have gone bold, with dark eyes and bright lips. Current me prefers to blend in. But tonight, I think I’ll marry the two sides of my soul and do a smoky eye with a nude lip.

It’s a silly thing to read so far into, and yet somehow, it feels like one of many baby steps to reclaiming myself.

“Okay,” Stella says, walking back into my room dressed and ready. If my top is anything like hers, it doesn’t bode well for me. “Put this on.”

She passes me a top; well, a scrap of cotton fabric masquerading as one, anyway.

I give her a dubious look, but she’s not having it. “You promised you’d try.”

She has me and she knows it. I grab the top from her and toss it onto my bed alongside the skirt. I hesitate for only a minute more before stripping down and pulling on the outfit of Stella’s choosing.

The top almost fits like a sports bra, with the hemline hugging the top of my rib cage. My skirt sits at my waist, leaving a strip of flesh on display.

“You look hot!” Stella exclaims.

“I feel naked. And it’s cold outside.”

“It’s like fifty.”

I give her a deliberately blank look. “Cold.”

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