Pounding on the door ensues.
“Come on! I’ve been patient, but I’m over this whole sneaky, hiding away in the dressing room shit. Let’s see!” Sophie yells. Man, for a tiny girl who’s carrying a set of twins in her swollen stomach, I have to give her props for her energy.
With a sigh, I pop my head out of the dressing room to see Sophie, Suzette, and Indie sitting in cushioned chairs and anxiously waiting for my runway debut. Ya know, since I was cheating before and wasn’t giving them their votes on whether I should yay or nay to the outfit.
“Let’s see it!” Suzette twirls her finger, silently ordering me to do the same.
I spin around on my toes to give them a view from all angles. Catcalling, hooting, and overly-enthusiastic “woo-hoos” commence, making me laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation.
Bowing, I say, “Thank you. Thank you.”
“You look hot!”
“Definitely a keeper!”
“But what do I wear for shoes?” I ask, wiggling my bare toes to emphasize my point. “I don’t do heels.”
“That’s fine. Just wear some Chucks or something. Remember. You’re still you. Just a more dolled up version.” The way Sophie, or Tink, as I’ve recently heard Indie call her, says it makes this more feminine version of myself seem so easy. So attainable. I almost believe I can pull it off.
“Really?” I ask in disbelief. “Chucks?”
“Yup. Ooo…you could do red to make the colors in your shirt pop!” Suzette adds.
“And pairing it with some matching lipstick too? Girrrl….” Sophie kisses her fingers like a fat Italian man describing pasta. “Perfection!”
Indie nods her agreement. “I love that idea! Now, let’s see a few more options.”
My confidence builds the longer I’m with these women as I try on a dozen more outfits. Some are definite nos, while others give me the same catcalling reaction as the first.
Once we’re done, Sophie takes us to her favorite salon. I feel like I’ve been transported to a different planet as they paint my hair and lace it with aluminum foil, letting the deep blue color seep into my natural brown. As I glance into the mirror, I stare at my reflection then make eye contact with Suzette, who grins and gives me a thumbs up.
“You’ve always been gorgeous,” she states matter-of-factly. “But you’re going to knock them on their asses.”
Them? It still feels weird to hear that, and I’m not sure how I feel about the situation. But I do appreciate the girls who I now know have my back. Even if the feeling is foreign as hell.
“You think?”
“I know.”
Releasing all the pent up oxygen in my lungs, I squeeze my eyes shut and pray that Suzette’s right. Because I’m done being the backup for Levi. Speaking of which…my phone vibrates.
Levi: Hey. Conner’s been staring at his phone all day. I’m starting to get jealous. How’s my best friend?
Forehead wrinkling in confusion, I reread Levi’s message a dozen times, trying to interpret his message the way he’d meant it, but I come up empty. I mean, yeah, Conner and I have been texting a little bit here and there trying to figure out the details for our date. But it’s not like we’ve been flirting or anything. Besides, why the hell would he care? Honestly, I’m surprised he even noticed.
“What is it?” Suzette asks curiously. Her question seems to grab the attention of Indie and Sophie too.
With three sets of eyes on me, I reread the message aloud then add, “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means he’s jealous,” Sophie answers.
“From a platonic perspective or a romantic one?” I ask.
Indie shrugs. “I don’t think he knows. Although, the best friend part almost made it sound like a dig. But I think he was trying to remind himself about the label he has on you more so than he was trying to remind you.”
“What do I say back?”
“Tell him that he should be jealous,” Suzette suggests. “I mean, isn’t that the goal in the first place?”