Fractured Fairytales

   Charlie:

   Curled red hair, red lipstick – bright but in the most subtle way possible, high-waisted black shorts and a lacy light blue crop top that showed bits and pieces of the white bra underneath. This is what I saw when I looked in the mirror; I was no longer Charlotte Woods.

                I wasn’t very fond of what Nikki had put me in, except for the shorts. Not to brag or anything but they made my butt look pretty damn good.

                I cocked my head to the side while I looked over myself in the mirror one more time. I wasn’t the prettiest girl in the school. Then again, I wasn’t the ugliest. It didn’t seem like my appearance was why I didn’t have many boyfriends, though. My poor social skills were what caused the lack of flirting, partying, and boys.

                I took a deep breath and braced myself for what would happen when I walked out of the bathroom. Lord knows what shoes that girl would put me in.

                The second I turned the doorknob, Nikki flung the door open, a huge grin plastered on her face, “Charlie! You look absolutely gorgeous. Why do you always hide that amazing body of yours under those concert tees?”

                I gave her a look, “my body isn’t amazing. It’s my metabolism that everyone’s jealous of.” Nikki rolled her eyes.

                “You know I like my bands.” I stated.

                Nikki started ushering me towards her shoe closet, “I know, I know.” She bent down, grabbed a pair of light brown suede ankle boot wedges. I silently thanked god she didn’t put me in 5 inch heels.

                “You know, Nikki, I don’t have to go to the party,” I said. “I don’t want to drag you down or anything.”

                “Excuse me, I just spent two hours doing your hair and makeup and another half hour finding you something to wear. You are going to the party.” Nikki said. I threw my head back in frustration. “You’ll have fun, don’t worry.”

                “It better be fun.” I muttered. I slipped on the shoes and we started walking to the car.

                “You know what you should do with those concert tees?” Nikki asked.

                “What?”

                “Cut them into crop tops.”

                This time, I was the one rolling my eyes.

                . . . . . . 

                When Nikki opened the front door to Eric’s house – without knocking, might I add – the loud thumping music and the smell of alcohol and illegal drugs almost made me stumble backwards before she practically dragged me into the house. We quickly found Eliza, pouring herself a cup of punch, which was most definitely spiked.

                “Liz!” Nikki yelled over the music and tapped her on the shoulder. Eliza turned around and smiled.

                “Hey, Nik!” She yelled. She turned to me and her mouth dropped a little, “Oh my god, Freckles, look at you! You look great.”

                The corners of my lips lifted, “Thanks, Liz.”