Found in the Weeds: An Angela Story
Chapter 1
January 1971 – Yale University
Angela bit her lip in concentration as she flicked the comb down to the top of Trish's honey-colored head. Teasing is such a barbaric practice, Angela thought, glad she hadn't been asked to later detangle this mess that she was so fearfully creating. She'd been helping her roommate get ready for the Winter Carnival for what seemed like hours, and was now on the homestretch. Angela smoothed the top layer of hair, and pinned it carefully over the elegant and wispy, low-beehive updo. "There!" Angela smiled. Trish looked up into the mirror from the January Cosmo she'd been flipping through.
"Ooh…just a little bit higher, Angela?" Trish bargained sweetly. Eager to please her style mentor, Angela nodded quickly, and began to gently remove the bobby pins. "You're a peach," Trish grinned as she wiggled her slight frame into a more comfortable seating position.
Angela was grateful to be a part of this. Somehow, of all the girls in their pledge class, she'd gotten paired with Trish Baldwin as a roommate. Despite just being a sophomore, Trish was one of the most popular girls at Yale. She was even going to this thing with the most beautiful man Angela had ever seen.
Robert Andrew Holmby III was in his senior football season with the Bulldogs. Angela had seen him around campus, and once, had stared at him so long, she'd caught his puzzled attention. She had even sat through a whole home game for a chance to see him play. Despite the decidedly unhelpful fans in her section, she'd gathered that Robert was what was termed a "cornerback". Apparently, he was a very effective player, but all Angela could tell was how fast he was.
She had actually been the one to answer the door the day he came to invite Trish to the Winter Carnival. Thick eyelashes, chiseled jaw, and probably six-three - Angela realized she wasn't breathing, and couldn't do a thing to stop it. Her gaze just kept climbing in slow motion until she got to those eyes that looked made of pure jade.
While re-working the top sections of Trish's hair, Angela so marveled at her beauty. Of course Robert would want to go with Trish. Anyone else, namely Angela, just wouldn't be good enough. She understood that. She wasn't even hoping; that would be dumb. But she would give anything to look like her roommate; that's one fantasy she allowed herself. Maybe someday, she would. In fact, as she sculpted Trish's updo, Angela found herself attempting to mimic her mannerisms. Angela tilted her head, and pooched her lips into a little pout. She swung her hips a little, as she shifted her weight from one leg to the other. She sucked in her tummy, arched her back, and held her breath, longing for the silhouette of her flawless friend. Angela caught a peripheral glance of her own reflection. My face looks skinny like this, she noticed brightly. I almost look pretty!
Angela was intently tucking the last piece of hair into place, when a loud, Pfffft! preceded the most exaggerated laugh, and broke her concentration. "WHAT, are you doing, Angela? You look like you're trying to poop!" she bellowed. Immediately self-conscious, Angela's now non-contorted face felt hot. Snatching the aerosol hairspray from the counter, Angela said nothing, but misted the room heavily enough to hide in its cloud - preferring the CFCs to the scrutiny of the porcelain princess.
When the haze settled, Angela was still mortified, and hoping with all her might that Trish wouldn't keep the spotlight on her nonsensical vanity. But Trish was already distracted by her own reflection. Turning her regal jaw from side to side, Trish busied herself making sexy faces into the mirror as Angela slowly wrapped the cord around the hair dryer.
Defeated, Angela looked over again at Trish, who was now smooshing the last coat of dark red, Max Factor lipstick into place. Her lips perfectly matched her full-length ballgown. It had spaghetti straps, a tight V-neck bodice, and a flowy, scalloped skirt. Angela knew Trish would have every guy on campus following her fairy dust.
"You look very pretty, Trish," Angela smiled sadly.
Trish walked over to her, and laid her hand softly on Angela's face. "Aww. You'll get invited to something…sometime. Someone will like you." Trish giggled, and with a little squeeze to Angela's cheek, she picked up her purse, and flounced out of their room.