Jessie & Elizabeth (abandoned)

17. Platonic Professions [Part 2]

"Uh," I said again, when the three of them started debating if I should get pink or yellow eyeshadow, "I'm not kidding, guys. Liz, you are gorgeous, with or without make-up, but on me—" I shuddered, thinking back to my teenage self, saving up for red lipstick and a waterproof eye pencil, only to scrub it right off when I saw myself in the mirror and realized I looked like an overworked clown.

Elizabeth frowned momentarily, glancing me up and down, then picked up a bottle of foundation and held it next to me. "Nonsense," she said, switching it for a slightly darker one. "You just need to find the right colors." She opened up the top, and I was too surprised to protest when she drew a line along my cheekbone. "I'll keep the foundation light, so it won't cover up your freckles." 

"Isn't that the point of foundation?" I fidgeted with the string of my sweatpants. Fifteen-year-old me would be squealing if she'd known that in the future, one of the popular girls was finally showing her the ropes and including her in the pretty girl activities.

"Yes, normally," she said, spreading the stuff with a sponge, "but I like your freckles."

It took everything in me to keep still, with her so close and practically studying my features. The kids were staring at me open-mouthed, like something magical was happening. My stomach fluttered even more aggressively than when I'd been drunk twelve hours before, and I wished I would've had the wits to eat something first. My palms were sweaty, and I wiped them on my pants, unintentionally pulling back when Elizabeth traced her thumb down my cheek. Holy shit, I was not going to survive this situation.

She scowled at me. "Will you relax? It's just make-up. I'm not going to permanently alter your face."

Weirdly, that helped to calm down the nerves. "It's just... awkward. With all of you gawking at me."

"Would it help if we left?" Miraculously, it was Ari who asked, and I would've been taken aback if it wasn't for the glint in their eyes — it seemed that someone had not forgotten about the drawing they made. I didn't know how to feel about it. Before I could even formulate an answer, they were ushering their sisters out of the castle, telling them they should all get something to drink in the kitchen.

Which meant I was alone in a cozy tent with Elizabeth. Who was continuing whatever she was doing with that concentrated determination of her.

I was screwed.

Featherlight touches on my cheek, gentle and unwavering. I could see the slight difference in the curl at the edges of her eyeliner, the barely visible dent in her jaw, maybe a scar, the laughter lines around her eyes. My heart was beating in my throat, skipping every now and then, and oh damn, why did she have to smell this good?

She unscrewed the cap off the mascara tube, then looked up, beautiful dark brown stuck on me, pausing for no reason at all. My breath caught in my throat. Her lips, though bare, had never looked more inviting, and crap, the kids were going to have to storm in and break this up, or all would go to hell. "Did you mean it?" she asked then, so quietly she didn't sound like herself.

"What?"

I couldn't form any coherent thoughts apart from wanting to reach out and touch her hair, and I needed the rest of my brain to stop me from doing exactly that.

She toyed with the drop earring, gaze breaking away, and for a second, I was able to inhale oxygen again. That was, until she looked back up. "This morning. Did you mean it?" There was a quiet sort of wonder behind the question.

I stared. She could not be referring to my slip-up, because everyone had forgotten about that by now, right, and she hadn't even commented on it in the moment itself.

"Never mind," she muttered, focusing entirely too intensely on the bottle she was holding, "it's nothing."

"Of course, I meant it." I said it so quickly I nearly tripped over my own tongue. I needed to move, do something, anything, if only rub my sweaty palms on my pants, only it seemed all my energy went into my stomach's latest performance.

Though my subconscious had whispered that that was the answer she'd been hoping for, it took a plummeting dive when she turned away, rummaging around between a pile of cases. I was ready to correct myself, make a joke out of it, save whatever could still be salvaged — but she faced me again, holding out her hand, and every single fear was chased away.

A pack of pink bubblegum, promising extra long-lasting flavor.

"I've been saving this for some time," she said, a blush spreading up her cheeks. "It's stupid—"

I placed my hand on top of hers, cutting her off, under the guise of accepting the offer of friendship, only I lingered, and I couldn't even convince myself that was what I was doing. My skin tingled where it met hers, still as calloused as I remembered. "It's not," I said, and I was surprised at how unaffected my voice sounded, with the way my heart was pounding. "I don't have any Skittles on me, though."

She laughed, a soft one that sent my stomach into a tidal wave. "You can make it up to me later."

"Deal."

It wasn't fair. She couldn't be making a huge declaration of friendship like this and expect me to sit back and enjoy it. Not with that lock of hair falling down the side of her face, begging for me to do something about it. So, obviously, I broke, moving forward to tuck it behind her ear, and oh, when did she get this close?

Out of nowhere, soft lips pressed a lingering kiss right next to my mouth.

For a second, I froze in complete terror. What had I done? How many times did I have to tell myself I could not go around acting out my most treasured fantasies, and —

I hadn't.

Holy shit.

"I—" I had no idea what I was going to say, only that it might've been a question, because what was that, and was that a typical best friend thing to do? All my best friends had usually been male or had fulfilled the role of girlfriend as well, so I wasn't entirely sure about the rules, but holy, holy shit, if my best friend liked to kiss me there, well, I wasn't going to object to it.

She watched me silently, still way too close, waiting for me to say something —

"What are you doing in there?" Ari's voice interrupted, and I startled heavily, pulling back in time to see them snatching back the plaid to peer inside. "Not playing kissy-face, are you?"

I felt myself burn red-hot.

"Eww, Ari, don't be gross!" Manon appeared beside them, eyes trained on me. "Mom, I think you put on a little too much blush. She looks like a tomato."

I covered my cheeks, the pack of gum slipping down my knee to the floor. With Elizabeth around and the memory of that kiss etched into my mind, I was pretty sure I was never going to need any blush ever again.