The Hockey Girl

Chapter 11

“You’re sure about this?” I asked Hilary. I couldn’t help the nervous edge in my voice, I felt a little exposed. Hilary, naturally, had decided on my wardrobe for the party we were attending tonight – she’d chosen a dress. It’s not that I hate dresses, I even own a few, I simply don’t make a habit of wearing them.

Hilary proceeded to look me up and down, from head to foot; I squirmed under her scrutinising gaze. It was moments later when her features softened and her smile brightened the room. “You look beautiful Ari.” She deemed. She nodded, satisfied with the outcome of her efforts.

“Why the dress though Hilary?” I asked, curious.

She turned back towards my closet and riffled through my shoes as she responded, “Because it’s warm out tonight.” She said.

I laughed at her, “And the real reason is…?” Hils wasn’t the sort of person to run her fashion on the weather alone.

Hils sighed, “You know me too well.” She conceded with a smile. I grinned.

“Because the guys told me about Georgia giving you a rough time the other day…” She explained. “Don’t frown at me like that Ari, you know I get protective.” She defended.

I smiled at my friend, “Hils, I have an entire team of over-protective guys on my side not to mention that I can protect myself, especially when it comes to Georgia and her sheep-like friends. I appreciate you trying to help me with her but I honestly don’t care about it. She’s hated me for so long now that it doesn’t affect me at all.”

Hils smiled at me, “I know that, you fool.” She teased with a smile. “Can you please just trust me though? You look so pretty in that dress! Georgia will have a fit.”

I laughed at my friend’s words, “Georgia having a fit is worth anything.” I admitted.

Hils grinned broadly; I swear the girl was moments away from a ‘happy-dance’. “What about shoes?” I asked her.

Hils mouth formed an ‘O’ shape and luckily for me the happy-dance was avoided when she turned back to my shoe collection. Moments later and she pulled out a pair of silver-studded black heels. “You can walk in these, right?”

I nodded, smirking. Thank God for mum forcing me into what she’d labelled, ‘heel-hell’. She’d always said that as much as she adored heels, she hated them and so one day she’d taught me to walk in them - a full day of heel bootcamp. I’d hated it at the time - walking in heels for hours on end hurt. But looking back on it, I valued the time we spent together that day just as mum and seemed to enjoy it at the time. 

“You can put the shoes on later.” She dictated, “now, put that bracelet on and come with me, I must fix your hair.” She ordered, referring to a silver clasp-bracelet on my bedside table.

Hils led me into my bathroom and sat me down on the chair before she proceeded to use a pre-heated curling iron to manipulate my hair to meet her standards.

“What about you, aren’t you going to change?” I asked her. She was currently wearing a pair of my black sweat pants and a white singlet.

“Of course I am, I brought it all with me. I’ll need to borrow some shoes though, is that okay?” She asked hopefully.

I smiled and nodded easily. She knew I didn’t mind her borrowing things.

When she’d finished with my hair, Hilary made me suffer through fifteen minutes of her applying makeup to my face. 

“Can I see what I look like now?” I asked Hilary hopefully.

“No.” She deadpanned.

I groaned. I hadn’t seen what I looked like even once – that made me nervous. “Are you sure I won’t be overdressed?” I asked.