Kim and Emily almost peed themselves when I told them what happened.
"You gotta stay away from him."
"Way too dangerous."
"I mean, unless he was really cute, then by all means…"
"KIM!"
"What? I was her age once, and let me tell you, if some 6 foot tall Greek God walked into my autoshop let's just say he'd get more than a tune up-"
"STOPPPPP," I pleaded, burying my face in my hands. "If you two keep arguing, I'll never tell you anything again."
"Look, all I'm saying is that those guys are usually trouble."
"So you know him?" It was more of a statement than a question, and I eyed Emily warily.
"No, but I know people LIKE him, and trust me-"
"People like him?"
Emily sighed and threw her face on the table as Kim rolled her eyes.
"Just be careful, okay kid?" Emily whined. I nodded and played with a curl.
"As long as you guys swear not to tell any of the boys."
"Why not?" Kim asked. I shot her a look.
"Because you have a big mouth, and if you tell Jared, Jared will tell Paul."
"And you're worried about Paul why?" Kim smirked. I threw a half-eaten bagel bite at her.
"Because I don't feel like listening to him make fun of me."
"Please, if Paul found out, you'd be the least of his problems. He'd probably find the kid and eat him ali- AHHH WHAT A BEAUTIFUL SUMMER MORNING." Kim cried, switching topics quickly as Emily swatted at her.
"Although, we do have a price." Emily mused, raising an eyebrow. She and Kim exchanged looks.
"No," I pleaded, knowing immediately where this was going. "No, no, no, no, no-"
"Oh PAUUUUUUUL," Kim sang out at the top of her lungs. "WE HAVE A SECRET TO TELL YOU-"
"OKAY," I cried, throwing my hands in the air. "FINE, FINE, FINE."
Emily and Kim high-fived before grabbing me by each elbow and towing me out of the bakery in a fit of giggles and murmured excitement.
The first thing they did was take me to Port Angeles. It wasn't the fashion capital of the world, that was for sure, but it had some pretty nice things.
"I'm so tired of seeing you wear that God forsaken T-shirt," Kim grumbled. "If you're gonna be a superhero nerd, at least be a sexy one." She tossed me a dangerously royal blue bra with the Superman logo etched across the back of the matching boy-shorts. They had a set for each of my favorite heroes.
"Do you like dresses?" Emily asked, peering through a rack of clothing. I shrugged.
"I never really have anywhere to wear a dress to." I admitted.
"Maybe, but you got huge boobs," Kim pointed out loudly, a few stray shoppers sneaking a glance in my direction. My cheeks were on fire. "So I think the best thing to do, naturally, is show them off."
"Kim, you have huge boobs. I have mosquito bites."
"That's because," Kim grumbled, ripping off my T-shirt. "You try to hide them underneath all your hideous sweaters and what-not. See? THOSE are not mosquito bites my friend." My face went red hot as I squealed, Emily yanking me into the nearest dressing room.
"You could've at least waited until we were behind closed doors!" Emily shouted, drawing even more attention to the three of us. I groaned and threw my hands in my face. "Oh, stop." Emily scolded, pulling my hands away from my cheeks. "You'll be alright."
She helped me sort through the mountain of clothes Kim had thrown over the door, including dresses, clingy camisoles and ridiculously short shorts.
"You look hot." Kim winked as I exited the dressing room, wearing a pair of white shorts and a navy blue crop top. I rolled my eyes, my cheeks still burning. "I mean it!" Kim cried. "You got a great tummy." She patted my abs as if to prove a point.
We bought the ridiculous amount of clothes, and as I did so, I couldn't help but wonder how pissed Mom would be at me for spending so much money-but at the same time, I didn't care. She'd left me, after all, so why not treat her like what she was-a simple bank account?
The next stop involved many broken combs and an ugly, pointy-faced man named Stacy.
"I luff your curls dahling, so vat ve vant to do heyah is add a leaf in conditionah, to ensure maximum hold and shine, yah?"
To be honest, I didn't have any idea what the fuck he was saying, but I nodded and smiled anyway, allowing him to attack my mane with everything he had, Emily and Kim chirping in the waiting room as he did so.
Three hours and seven magazines later, I actually looked like a girl. Not that I hadn't looked like one before, it's just that now I actually looked like the type that went on dates and got boyfriends, like the ones you might see in mall ads or something. My usually fluffy fro had been transformed into flowing, spirally ringlets, all perfectly organized to frame my heart shaped face. I hadn't even realized how long my hair was, even when at its curliest, it was tickling the middle of my upper arm.
"Holy shit," Kim murmured, raising her eyebrows as Stacy turned my chair around to face them. She elbowed Emily. "Paul's gonna have a REAL tough time now."
"Paul?" I asked, wondering why she'd bring him up. She waved me off, but I couldn't help but get a prickly sensation in the pit of my stomach at the sound of his name. I would never have admitted it out loud, but I missed him.
We left Stacy to babble more about maintenance and making sure my curls stayed in tip top shape as we headed back down to La push.
There was an odd feeling rustling about inside me. When I'd first arrived, I was almost positive that I'd hate it. I didn't want anything to do with this God forsaken place, or it's ugly houses-but the more I went out, the more fresh, crispy, pine-scented air I took in, the more I realized that this had been my home for Lord knows how long. It wasn't that I was just going to La Push, it was that I was going back.
I bustled in through the front door of YaYa's, 80 large shopping bags in tow.
"Holy crap," she muttered in shock. "I didn't know you liked shopping."
"She doesn't," Kim gasped, crawling from underneath the pile of clothes. "But we do….can't….air….ahh…." she collapsed and disappeared into the mass of crop tops.
"So you finally gave in, huh?" Adam smirked, walking across the hallway and into the kitchen. I snapped a rubberband at him.
"Awe, you guys didn't even tell me!" Yaya cried, literally stomping her foot. I didn't know grown women actually did that. I didn't even know people did that in general. She pouted, sticking her bottom lip out so far that Kim probably could've grabbed hold of it and used it to pull herself out from underneath the clothes. Yaya perked up immediately, however. "I CALL DOING HER MAKEUP!"
She grinned at me before yanking me up the steps, Emily and Kim dragging my bags up the steps behind us. Yaya threw me down in the chair perched before her vanity, flipping the lights on to her room. She brushed my new curls away from my left cheek.
"You have really pretty eyes," she mused, Kim hauling out enough makeup to cover an elephant. "So the best thing we can do is make them pop.
They covered my lashes in thick, dark Covergirl products and took a black stencil to the corners and tops of my eyelids, using a shimmery dust near my tear ducts.
"Her skin looks better bare though, and we don't want her to break out, so leave that part alone." Emily ordered, swabbing some gloss across my bottom lip.
"Pin her hair up!" Kim cried, throwing thousands of bobbypins on the vanity and going to work. They were all very excited, chirping and picking at me until I was satisfactory, and again, I got the prickling sensation of home. I felt wanted around here, I felt like I had attention, but not the bad kind. It wasn't the kind you had to fight or cry out for, it was the good kind, the kind people wanted to give you.
When they were finished, I almost wasn't sure who I was looking at. She was a stranger, with a smoothe, coco-colored porcelain face, her full but small lips shiny and glistening. My eyes looked ten times bigger, but the liner had kept them in check, highlighting their shape and extremely dark color, the shimmer in the corners of my eyes adding a little flair. My curls had been pinned back, a few of them left to hang loose around my cheeks and forehead, the others piled into a beautifully messy knot at the upper back of my head.
"I'm pretty." I murmured in surprise, raising my eyebrows. They all smiled, especially Yaya.
"Oh, Honey, you were always pretty. This is just…enhancement, that's all. It's the wonder of makeup." She winked at me and kissed me on the cheek. "But I do believe that there's someone who might want to see you. Go sweep him off his feet, sexy girl."
At first, I didn't know who she was talking about, and then I realized that Emily and Kim must've told her about Jackson.
"Oh…him," I murmured, my cheeks turning red. "Maybe I should go see him."
Yaya grinned in approval before tossing me the keys to her Jeep.
"I don't have a license," I said bluntly, staring at her. "I'm only 15."
"Can you drive?" she asked, already knowing the answer. I'd spent nights on end picking my Mom up from the bar. I nodded. "Well then." She smirked, leaving me with the keys and an overriding sense of guilt. I sighed and said goodbye to Emily and Kim, promising I'd meet them back home after I was finished at the garage.
I wasn't quite sure where Jackson lived, but the shop was my best bet. I'd had to take all of his insurance information a few nights before anyways, so everything still should've been in the database. The trees blurred against the windows, the road seeming to stretch out endlessly around me. Jackson kept flashing through my head, his dark, matted curls that matched his beautiful eyes. I wanted to see him smile again, like it was some sort of drug that I was starting to become addicted to.
It wasn't like that night had been the only one. I'd caught him several times, peeking through the windows, leaving sweet little notes on the tool tables when he thought I wasn't paying any attention-and then there were the strange days.
Those days were different. He seemed to be invisible, moving without me even seeing him there or noticing his presence in the first place. I wanted to believe that it was an accident, that it was just me being ignorant, too wrapped up in the Mustang to see anybody coming or leaving-but deep down I knew that wasn't the case. There had to be a way that he was sneaking into the shop, tiptoeing across the floor or something so that I wouldn't know he was there.
Some people say that ignorance is bliss. That it's better to ignore the complicated details and instead look at the bigger, happier, clean-cut picture. I say I was an idiot for thinking I could live this long with such oblivion.