Paper Airplane

6

Chapter Six

 

 

                “How do I look?”

                Lucy stepped around me and pursed her lips.  Her hair was in a tight knot at the top of her head today, and her purple streaks were in full view in the back.  She looked very hipster, especially with her glasses, and very cute.

                “Like you have the best stylist in the world,” she responded.

                I smirked, looking into the mirror again.  Brady had insisted that since we were going to spend time with an incredibly famous band, I should at least look like I know what I’m doing.  So he called Lucy over, explained the situation, and she arrived with a grin so wide it must be painful.  She already knew exactly how to make me look athletic but innocent, and I have to agree that the hairstyle is perfect.

                My hair was pulled back into what looked like a simple ponytail, but where the hair was pulled back was separated into twists, along with a braid she’d incorporated with my bangs.  She put the sparkle spray in again, which I loved, and then she did a little bit of curling with the ponytail. 

                I hadn’t planned on her doing my makeup either, but when she got here and I hadn’t done it yet, she immediately offered to do it.  Of course I didn’t refuse.  I couldn’t get over yesterday, the way she made it perfect with just a simple touchup. 

                Lucy was a beauty genius.

                “You’re technically not my stylist,” I reminded her, reaching back to touch my ponytail. 

                “Eh,” she shrugged, smiling at me proudly in the mirror.  “I think I am.”

                Whatever she says.

                “Are you guys ready yet?  I’m going gray out here.”

                Brady poked his head in the doorway, instantly wrinkling his nose upon smelling a mixture of hairspray and mousse fumes.  Lucy had done his hair first, which of course took all of five minutes.

                “Just about,” she told him, turning to adjust the braid a bit.

                “Why does it take you so much longer to do her hair?” my brother asked.

                I raised a brow at him.  Really?

                “Um, maybe because her hair is twenty times longer than yours?” Lucy responded, making a similar face to my own.

                Brady responded by childishly mimicking Lucy’s remark, disappearing to finish waiting in the living room.  He’d sent Mom and Dad out for lunch at the type of fancy restaurant Mom’s been dying to go to since we got here, and she was too ecstatic to refuse, much to Dad’s dismay.  But he was happy that she was happy, so he didn’t make a stink about it.

                Lucy finished adjusting my hair, tweaked my makeup once more, and then was finally satisfied.  And I was satisfied with myself, so much that I nearly hugged her.  But she wasn’t quite through with me yet.

                “Come on, let’s go pick out your wardrobe now.”

                After going through what I’d brought with me from home, she quickly decided that I was in no way prepared to play a sport.  Aside from my four pairs of Converse sneakers, I had no type of tennis shoe with me.  Not to mention all of my shorts were denim, and all of my T-shirts – apart from the one with Brady’s song lyrics on it – were V-necks and tight-fitting.