"No, you're not," she scoffs. "I can tell."
"Girl, then why did you ask?" I toss the eyeliner pen down with a little more force than I meant to.
"Thought it'd be funny. Anyway, did you pick a dress?"
"Yup. The baby pink one."
"Is that the one he fucked you sideways in when he showed up with puppy-dog eyes?" She grins and chews loudly.
"No, that was the purple. But god willing, and the creek don't rise, he'll give me a repeat performance. Can youpleasedo my left eye? I can't get it to match the right." I snatch the pen back up and shove it at her.
"I was wondering when you'd ask."
I don't know how she does it, but Janine perfects the left eye's wing like a pro. I move to go back to the mirror, but she grabs my arm and shakes her head. "Nope, you're getting the full Janine treatment."
"Well, if you insist."
"I do." She whips out the most stunning berry lipstick I've ever seen, and before I know it, I'm done. I look like a goddess. A very professional goddess, I might add. But a goddess nonetheless.
The lime green dye in my hair has faded to a cool minty color. Janine whips out the fanciest curling rod I've ever seen and gets to work, while I allow my mind to race around the subject of Dustin. He wants to be with me. He wants to make this work. I know we've tried long distance before—and it exploded horrifically in sophomore year—but I really do believe we can make this happen.
I just might be moving to Chicago, that's all. Or Dustin could move here. I wouldn't complain about that. If DropTop is being acquired by Atmosphere, that really opens up a world of possibilities. Not that I want to abandon my team—not at all. But wedohave the option to work from any office.
The contented smile drops from my face as Janine yanks a clump of my hair with one of her massive claw clips. "Jesus!"
"Sorry, sorry, you big baby." She sniffs. "We're almost done."
Looking up at the mirror, I see she has my hair sectioned into a very chic half-up, half-down number. The undersides are curled and fluffed into defined, yet beachy, waves. She rifles through her bag and brings out a giant handful of bobby pins and clear elastics. I preemptively wince becausethose things are going to hurt like a motherfucker when I take them all out at the end of the night.
A few tender-headed tears later, I've got the most adorable space buns with wispy curtain bangs, while the lower half of my hair hangs free and delightfully wavy. All in all, I look fucking amazing.
"Did I do good, or did I do good?" Janine clasps her hands together and smiles at me in the mirror.
"You didfuckinggood," I giggle back.
We both squeal with excitement, and I scurry to my closet to find the aforementioned pink dress. It's got a deep V-neck, flowy short sleeves, a poofy A-line skirt, and discreet silver threading around the hem. I love the distinctly early spring vibes it gives off, even though I'll definitely be rocking up with my giant winter coat over it. Here's hoping the cruise ship has heating.
I thank every deity that might be listening that I had the presence of mind to wear a robe during the getting-ready process. I donotwant to think about ruining my hair by pulling a ratty sweatshirt over my head. Dropping the robe to the floor, I quickly step into the dress and do my absolute best to zip it myself.
"Would it kill you to ask for help?" Janine scoffs. She quickly zips me up and gives me a smack on the ass.
"Hey! Ididask for help, if you recall. I asked you to do my eyeliner." I twirl in the dress and squeak happily at the way the skirt poofs out around me.
"Right, and you're at capacity. One 'help me please' per day, huh?"
"Exactly. Can't have you thinking I've gone all soft and helpless now that I've got myselfa man,"I overexaggerate a Southern drawl, and Janine rolls her eyes so hard I think they might fall out.
"Go get 'em, kid."
Dustin
Thesunsetssoearlyin winter. By the time I get out of the menswear shop—several hundred dollars lighter, I might add—the street lights illuminate the bustling sidewalk. But damn, I have to admit I lookgood. I basically told the sales guy that I had no idea what I was doing, and he asked me all the questions in the world, but by the time I was handing over my debit card? I was happy. Iamhappy. The sage green two-piece suit with a crisp white shirt fits me perfectly.
And I can't wait to see what Brooke thinks about it.
I've still got about two hours before the ship sets off, so I head back to the apartment for a little bit of last-second grooming and showering and beard-trimming. I rake my fingers through the shaggy growth. It turns out I've forgotten to keep the beard up to my usual standards. I blame Brooke for that, of course. She seems to like it when the hair is soft and blunted.
However, I'm not going to this dinner cruise as Brooke's date—as much as I would love that, wecan't—and I need to project a professional image on behalf of Atmosphere as a whole.Professionalism. Professionalism. Professionalism.That has to be my mantra for the evening.
