Page 24 of Grease Monkey
Morgana:Can you please help me?
Shay:Girl’s night at my house? Sleepover, movies, and we can look at what I’ve got that could work for a first date.
Morgana:Can you come here? My parents are away for the weekend.
Shay:Even better!
“Morgana Tallulah Adler, stop blinking. You’re making me mess up.” Shay smacks the eyeliner tube on my head, making me wince, before continuing to poke the wand in my eye. I flinch, and she grips the top of my head, the tips of her fingers digging into my scalp as she growls, “Hold still!”
When Shay insisted on helping me get ready for my date with Teddy, I was thankful. Now… not so much.
“I am!” I whine, not used to this amount of primping. “And that’s not my middle name.”
She gently blows across my eye, drying the black liquid.“Well, if you had one, I’d use that, but instead, I have to make up my own.”
“Last time, it was Louise,” I say, peering through slitted lids, too scared to open them fully and smudge her work. My best friend’s wrath isn’t something I can endure, especially when I’m already on edge tonight. Shay rummages around in her makeup box, one of those fancy things professionals own to store and cart around their collection. She opens the lid to a lipstick before shaking her head and pulling out a different tube. Gripping my chin, she pouts her lips, and I copy the action.
“Whatever. You need a middle name when you’re being a pain in my ass and won’t sit still.” She lightly lines my lower lip with the pigment, mimicking my pout like it helps her put it on and then tilts her head. “Rub your lips together... gently.”
I do as I’m told and take the handheld mirror she passes. Her eyes soften, and a smile morphs across her face. I turn the mirror over and look at the girl in the reflection.
“Not that you don’t normally, but holy shit… you look absolutely stunning.”
I glance up at Shay, then back to mirror me. I look… different. My eyes are more defined, my cheeks have a rosy glow, and my lips look fuller than usual. It’s not caked on either; it’s elegant and natural, andnothing like how the professionals Mom hires to do our hair and makeup for campaign functions make me look.
“Okay…” Shay claps her hands together, spinning on her heel and marching toward the bed where three outfit choices are laid out. “We have…”
She holds out outfit number one; a red bodycon minidress that would show more of my ass than cover it. I scrunch my nose, and she tosses it over her shoulder to the floor. Number two isn’t much better; a violet low-cut top with the V so far down you’d be able to see my belly button. She sighs when I shake my head, the top meeting the same fate as the dress.
When she holds up choice number three, I huff, “Really?”
She grins, shaking the spider web out in her hand. Because that’s what it is—a contraption made to snare and trap and looks painful to be caught in, and it only has enough lace to cover nipples and what I hope is also the crotch area. Holding the strips of fabric against herself, she wiggles her eyebrows.
“Don’t you want to be prepared if he, ya know…” She gyrates her hips and hums something that sounds a lot like Tom Jones“Sex Bomb.”
“I’m not putting out on the first date, Shay.” I scoff, pushing from my chair to grab theunderwearand add it to theover-my-dead-body-am-I-wearing-thatpile. I push her onto my bed, and she groans theatrically, telling me I’m a lost cause.
I bend down and drag over the extra-large suitcase she brought over last night, filled with what—if I didn’t already know better—could be her entire wardrobe. Riffling through the clothes, I try to find something that won’t make me look like a stripper.
“Do you know where he’s taking you?” Shay asks, swinging her legs around to lie down on her stomach, chin resting in her hands as she watches me go through the suitcase.
I shake my head. “Nope, he just said to be comfy.”
“Comfy? What the hell doescomfymean? Oh—oh—” She stretches her hand out and waves it at the side of my head at a yellow top in my hands. “That would be perfect. It would go with your eyes and hair. Sunshine personified.” I hand her the top and continue looking for bottoms to go with it. “What about those dark jeans?” she asks, pointing to a pair of jeans that had fallen out of the case. “And you could pair them with your Chucks? The ones with the platform sole?”
“That could work,” I say, finally happy with something that isn’t too revealing or just isn’t me.
Shay hops off my bed and whirls my chair around, tapping the backrest for me to sit. Brushing a wide-toothed comb along the length of my hair, she creates the beach wave I love so much but can never quite manage myself. My hair isn’t one thing or another, more like a cascade of curls that have a life of their own and don’t like to be told what to do. But when Shay gets her hands on it, it could be used in an advert for shampoo or something. The girl is seriously talented.
Once she finishes, I duck into the bathroom, quickly pulling on the clothes and brushing my teeth. Shay wolf whistles when I open the door and walk over to the full-length mirror, admiring her hard work.
“Damn, Morgs, you look so fucking hot. Where were you hiding this body?” she asks and slaps my butt. I blush, taking in my reflection one last time before grabbing my coat and handbag and walking downstairs with five minutes to spare.
The sound from Teddy’s Mustang outside is almost as loud as Shay’s squeal as she runs to the front door and waits for the bell to ring. I want to puke. My heart is hammering so hard I wouldn’t be surprised if it punched a hole through my chest and it squelched on the floor. Shay, however, looks like she’s about to wet herself with excitement as she flings the door open before the first chime of the bell finishes.
“Well, aren’t you punctual?” she coos, leaning against the doorjamb and shamelessly checking him out. “And you scrub up well, Teddy Bear.”
“Teddy Bear? Really, Shay? You know I’m twenty, not a kid?”
