The Nerd Girl

Chapter Four

"You're only saying that because you're my best friend." I counter, more out of suspicion of his voice than because I want to argue. Although, my heart flip-flops a little when I hear him say that I'm beautiful.

"Amara, I believe that you're very pretty. And I lo—I really do."

I feel my brows pull together when he cuts himself off at the end. I don't know what he was going to say, but it almost sounded along the lines of "I love you." But, I've no real idea. I mean, Danny and I have been like brother and sister since the third grade; he can't be in love with me. Although, when I think about that, a nagging, invisible part of me almost wishes that he does love me—as more than a friend. I don't know why, and I don't think I ever will at this rate, but my chest kind of contorted in disappointment when he didn't complete his original sentence.

I internally shake myself, embarking back upon reality. Smiling up at Danny like my thoughts have been anywhere but on what he might've said, I mutter, "Thanks."

He gives me the reserved, mysterious kind of grin that tells me he doesn't really mean what he's about to say. But I pretend like I don't notice, and when he explains to me that he's glad I'm doing what I'm doing, and that he can't wait to see what kind of magic Penelope works on me, I just listen, ignoring the bit of my mind that shouts at me to forget about the makeover.

. . .

"Are you ready, Amara?" Penelope asks.

She gestures for me to sit in the chair and I do, settling in as comfortably as I can, but making no effort to ease the tension in my shoulders. I inspect my face in the reflective glass, pinpointing everything that Penelope will be trying to fix. My skin has a tan, but one of those faded, washed out tans that appear to be more of a dark pale. I brushed my hair out this morning, and fought a losing battle against my unruly curls with the bristles of my comparatively weak comb, but it's already scrunched back into those frumpy curls that tangle together and bunch up around the shoulders.

Penelope has her work cut out for her.

As I'm examining my lips, the edges of which have begun to chap, I can see Danny talking to Penelope behind me. He looks at her with a pleading expression on his face, his palms turned up in resignation. Penelope clamps her teeth down around her bottom lip, tilting her head worriedly. She frowns, as if she's trying to figure something out, but doesn't say another word to Danny, who seems to be thinking about something else entirely.

Danny looks at me, staring at the back of my head. I quickly wrench my eyes from where they were watching him in the mirror, and act as though I'm engrossed in examining the split ends of my hair. He shakes his head, beginning to converse with Penelope again. I see Danny say one last thing to her, and then she beams at him appreciatively.

With one last fleeting glimpse at me, he leaves.

"Okay," Penelope claps her hands together, approaching me. "Let's get started, shall we?"

I just nod.

I roll my shoulders back, readying myself for what I expect to be a long process. But instead of getting started on the makeover, she drags a chair over beside mine. She lowers herself down into it and crosses her legs gracefully, looking at me curiously.

"For starters, Amara," she drawls. "Tell me, what do you want me to do?"

"Uhm," I fidget for the right words.

I don't want to say "make me beautiful," because she would probably think of me as some sort of desperate loser. And it doesn't seem flattering to blurt out, "I want to look like the other pretty girls," since I know that would label me as some kind of crazy stalker.