Find Her, Fix Him

15 | Forget ourselves

15 | Forget ourselves

~LILO~

The party on Saturday is a date I've been looking forward to and dreading at the same time.

"You've been somesort of weird social recluse for like, two years, and all it takes is rubbing shoulders with Khan Farid to trigger the party animal in you again!" Del exclaims, as she tips a load of product into my hair and slathers it all over my scalp, bubbles getting into my eyes. "Who would've thought you were so sly?"

"Shush, it's not like that at all," I groan, rolling my eyes, though the soapy stuff in them makes them sting. "I didn't befriend him to get invited to parties, I befriended him because he's a nice person, and he's kind to me. Also, we were kind of forced together."

"Yeah, are you glad now that I forced you to come to that rehearsal?" Del smirks as she grabs a handful of hair-bands from the dressing table and starts twisting them into my hair. "Technically, this is all thanks to me. No need to throw roses, I already know I'm amazing."

"Wow, don't be modest. Self-love is the best love."

"You come up with the most instagram-quote-of-the-day-sounding shit ever, Lilo Lasting. You're like a walking hashtag love yourself page. Why haven't you presented a TED talk yet?"

"I know, right? I should be on Ellen."

"Totally. Hey, I saw Timmy Chalamet and Armie Hammer on Ellen the other day on YouTube, it's the cutest content ever. Let's watch whilst I glam you up."

"If I can see," I grumble, as hair-oil drips into my eyes, but watch eagerly anyway as Del gets the video up. It's rare that me and my best friend get this time together- time to goof around, gush about gorgeous actors, make fun of eachother jokingly. Time to be girls. It's really, really rare. I hate the part of my brain that decides to remind me that this is only possible because Dad is in hospital.

That decides to remind me that, as soon as he's better, all this is over.

We're currently using Khan's bedroom to dazzle ourselves up worthy enough for our DelilahxDelilah party comeback after two years, having thrown him out with our arms full of straighteners and lipstick-tubes. To be honest, it didn't take much throwing out; he took one look at our eyelash-curlers, muttered something about bloody dangerous weapons, and fled. I'd die if anyone at school knew about the living arrangement with Khan- because that would obviously bring up inevitable questions about my own parents- but I've never been able to hide anything from Del. She's like a walking, talking lie-detector. And I did need someone to help me get ready, after not laying hands on a mascara for months.

"Are you sure we need this much stuff smeared on my head, Del?" I ask, "The gel in my hair might cut off oxygen to my brain. Besides, this isn't prom. It's a cheap year eleven gathering where kids get too wasted to care what you look like anyway."

"Lilo, mi princesa, this is more than a gathering to get drunk!" Del persists, "You haven't been to a party in forever, and I went off them in support of you. This is like...our reintroduction to social life."

"You make it sound like this is a Jane Austen novel, and we're 17th century debutantes preparing for the season to meet some eligible lord."

"Ugh, why do you read?"

"Well, why don't you?"

We slip back into our familiar argument of books versus films, and it fits like a favourite worn hoodie. I love moments like these- moments where everything is certain, and safe, and I'm not worrying about being home in time to make anyone dinner or prepare anyone's medication, and when I feel fleetingly normal with my best friend. Like any other girl of sixteen...like any other teenager. Moments when I know that Del and I are polar opposites, but miraculously, we fit together like a glove over a hand. She grabs a bobby-pin from the dressing table and says, "Hold this lock of your hair up for a minute, 'kay?"