High Heels and Lipstick (11 page)

Some of the other clothes on the bed were ones I'd worn when I'd gotten together with him too. That wasn't the only reason I was getting rid of them, but it was a factor. I didn't see any point in keeping stuff around that would only cause bad memories.

Holly pulled the shirt on and adjusted it. It was a little tight over her boobs, but not enough to look bad. The shirt came down almost to her hips, which wasn't great with her baggy jeans, but I could take care of that. “You look good in that,” I said.

“I do?” She went toward the full-length mirror on the back of my bedroom door. “Yeah, maybe. Red isn't really me.”

“It looks good,” I said again. “Your skin's kind of pale. The red brings out your color. God, I sound like Evan.”

Holly laughed. “Yeah, if he doesn't make it as a drag queen the way he wants, he has a great future as a fashion consultant.” She looked in the mirror again. “I guess you're right. I do kind of like it.”

“You need skinny jeans, though.” I rummaged through the pile on the bed. I had a few pairs of skinnies that were a size or two too big for me thanks to well-meaning relatives who had at least attempted to be on trend. I found a pair of blue ones and a pair of white ones with a red floral pattern. “Here. Try these.”

She took both pairs of jeans and held up the blue ones. “Really?”

“Stop arguing with me, or we're going to be here all night.”

She tried on the jeans, which fit her as well as I'd figured they would. “I didn't think I could wear skinny jeans. I only have a couple pair.”

“Anyone can wear skinnies.” I found the other pairs I'd pulled out of the closet. “Look, I get that you're afraid stuff won't fit you. I'm not going to point at you and laugh or anything. This is all stuff I don't want, and I picked out the things I think will fit. So just try it on. The worst that will happen is something will be too small, and that just means you don't take it.”

“Yeah.” She hesitated. “Why are you giving me all this? We haven't even been friends until the last couple of months.”

“The last couple of months, you've been one of the few people I can trust,” I said. “Besides, it bugs me watching you walk around in clothes that hide your body. You're cute. You should let people see it. I've seen you wear better-fitting stuff, so what's with the baggy things lately?”

“I gained some weight.” She looked at herself in the mirror again. “Maybe not as much as I thought. Plus like I told you the other day, the baggy stuff is warmer than the clothes that fit me better, and it's way too cold this winter.”

“I agree with that.” I didn't blame Holly for choosing comfort over style, but there was no reason she couldn't have both. “Some of this stuff will be good for winter even when it's insanely cold out. Some, not so much, but you can hold on to it for spring, right?”

“Yeah.” She straightened her shoulders and turned to look at herself sideways in the mirror. “I don't look as fat as I thought.”

“You don't look fat. You look curvy. A lot of people think curvy is hot. Deal with it.”

“Sure.”

I tried not to look at her when she changed clothes. It was one thing to look at the outfits, but watching her change crossed the perv line as far as I was concerned.

Holly had only gotten through half the pile when I heard the back door close. “I'll be right back,” I said.

She nodded and picked up a minidress I thought would look great on her if she actually worked up the nerve to try it on.

I went downstairs. It was later than I'd realized, almost five, and Mom was in the kitchen unpacking a couple of bags of groceries. She gave me a hug. “How was school?”

Thanks to Holly and her fashion show, I'd almost managed to forget the bad part of the day. Now it came rushing back. Not that I wanted to talk about it, but Mom would realize something was wrong if I tried to cover. She almost always picked up on my lies, which was why I'd never tried to lie about partying and sex. I just hadn't said anything at all.

“It was pretty good other than someone who used to be my friend turning on me,” I said.

“Again?” She sighed. “This is why we want you to change schools. We were going to talk to you about that tonight, but your dad called and said he thinks we should put it off until we find out Jim's sentence. I have no idea why, but I agreed.”

“Good. I don't want to talk about the school thing. Today was about one person, Mom, not the entire school.” I hesitated. She and Gina's mom were good friends, so she probably wouldn't be happy to hear about this. But she would find out sooner or later. “Gina. She painted ‘slut' on my locker and Maryellen's either yesterday after school or this morning before people showed up.”

Mom's eyes widened. “You're joking. Gina wouldn't do something like that.”

“She did it.” I folded my arms and looked right at her. Mom had never tried to defend most of the people who hassled me, but she considered Gina another daughter. Apparently she'd missed the whole thing where Gina and I had barely spoken for two months. “The school found out and suspended her, and she's been reported to the police. Vandalism plus bullying equals she's in a ton of trouble. She isn't as sweet as you think.”

“I can't believe it.” She held up her hand. “I believe
you
. I just can't believe Gina would deliberately hurt you. You and she have always been friends.”

“Not since November,” I said. “She joined the ‘let's slam Chastaine' club. For all I know, she's one of the ones posting stuff about me online. Some of it's been anonymous, so there's no way to tell.”

“I'm going to talk to Jane about this.” Mom started putting away the groceries.

“Don't bother. She isn't going to do anything.” Gina's mom liked my mom a lot, but she blamed me for the trouble Gina got into. Mom didn't know that, of course. Jane never said it in front of Mom. Only when she was alone with Gina and me.

“We'll see.” Mom opened the fridge. “What were you doing upstairs?”

“Holly's here, and she's probably wondering what's taking me so long.” I grabbed a jar of peanuts out of one of the bags. “Can I take these upstairs? We need a snack.”

“Clean your room. I don't want peanuts all over the floor.” She glanced at me. “Holly?”

I rolled my eyes. “You know who Holly is. I hang out with her all the time.”

“I'm just surprised you brought her here. You usually go to her house.”

Now that I thought about it, this was the first time Holly had been to my house. I shrugged. “My closet was getting ridiculous. I thought she might want some of the clothes I don't wear. That's okay, isn't it?”

“Yeah, if you don't wear them, someone who will may as well have them.” She went back to putting away the food. “If she wants to stay for supper she can. Meatloaf and roast potatoes.”

“I'll ask.” I doubted Holly would want to stay that long. Mom's meatloaf was practically an all-night production.

“Let me know.”

I nodded, even though she didn't see me because she was looking into the fridge, and went back upstairs.

Holly was wearing the minidress, and she looked amazing. On me, it had been too loose, which defeated the purpose. It hugged her body in all the right places, and it wasn't quite as short on her as it had been on me.

“I don't think I can wear this,” she said.

“Why not?” I closed the door so she could see herself in the mirror again.

She patted her belly. “This. I look like I'm six months
pregnant or something.”

“Shut up.” I turned her to see her side view. “Okay, so your stomach is there. Big deal. Half the girls who wear this kind of dress have bellies. It doesn't mean it looks bad.”

“Yeah, tell that to the people who are going to call me fat.”

“I bet Nathan will like it.” I'd seen her with Nathan at the
donut shop, and they'd gone to Homecoming together. As far as I knew, they were dating, though neither of them ever actually said so.

She rolled her eyes. “I don't care what Nathan thinks, and he probably wouldn't notice anyway.”

“I thought you and he were into each other.”

Holly snorted. “Okay. I'm going to let you in on a secret, but you have to swear you won't tell anyone. Not even Nathan.”

“Okay.” I raised my eyebrows. “If it's a secret about Nathan, doesn't he already know?”

“I mean don't tell him I told you.” She turned away from the mirror. “Everyone thinks we're going out because that's what we want them to think. It's easier than letting anyone find out the truth.”

I wasn't exactly stupid, so I caught on right away to what she meant. It wasn't anything I hadn't suspected, but I'd assumed I was wrong after Homecoming. “He's gay?”

“He isn't the only one.”

This time, I took a few seconds to understand. Her blush helped give me a clue. “You?”

“I like girls.” She grimaced and turned away. “If you want me to leave—”

“Why would I want you to leave?” It was good news as far as I was concerned. If I ever sorted out how I felt about Holly and filled her in, at least she wouldn't freak out about having another girl interested in her.

“I lied to you.” She paused and looked at me, surprised. “Okay, not exactly lied, but I covered it up.”

“Yeah, well, people can be idiots, so I don't blame you.” I tried to process. Holly hadn't dated much as far as I knew, but the times she had, she'd always gone out with a guy. I never would have figured her for being into girls. “I'm friends with Evan and Guillermo. You really think I'm going to judge you?”

She shrugged. “You might think I'm going to hit on you or something. That's what Stephanie thought. She's the only one who knows besides you, and she probably would have blabbed it all over the place if she hadn't promised to keep her mouth shut. She can be a bitch sometimes, but she doesn't break promises.”

“That's one good thing, I guess.” I thought about what she'd just said. “Evan doesn't know? I thought you told him everything.”

“He deals with enough. And he would probably try to get me to come out, which would be a disaster.” She picked up her clothes from the bed. “His mom and my parents flipped out when Evan said he was gay. They're still wrapping their heads around it six years later. I don't know how they'd deal with finding out about me. They might say it's Evan's fault or something.”

“Which would be completely stupid. You don't catch gay.” I picked up a black miniskirt and a white sleeveless top. “Try this.”

“It won't fit.”

“You've said that about every single thing so far, and it all fits. Stop arguing.” I waved the clothes at her. “By the way, my mom said you can stay for supper if you want, but it probably won't be ready until around seven.”

“I can't stay, then.” She sighed. “Actually, I should probably go home now. My parents will be home, and they're being difficult lately.”

“Okay.” I set down the shirt and skirt. “Let me get a bag for the stuff you want. And if there's anything you want to try on that you didn't have a chance to, just take it with you and give it to someone else or whatever if it doesn't fit.”

“You're being really cool about this.” She tugged at the dress she was wearing. “I can't walk home in this. I'll freeze.”

“So put your baggy junk back on.” I grinned and went into my closet, where I kept a stash of shopping and gift bags. “What am I being cool about?”

“Finding out I'm not straight.”

I grabbed a couple of jumbo shopping bags and left the closet. “What did you think I'd say? You like who you like.”

“Yeah.” She bit her lip, looking even more nervous than she had before.

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing.” She turned away and took off the dress.

I started bagging up the clothes she'd decided she wanted. For a second there, I'd been afraid she would say she had a crush on me or something. And part of me kind of wished she had.

She'd taken a big chance by telling me she was interested in girls, not guys. I didn't want to push her into telling me anything more, and I wouldn't have known how to respond anyway. So I finished bagging the stuff, and she helped me once she was back in her original clothes. And then she left.

O
NCE
UPON
a time, weekends and vacations were my favorite parts of the year. I didn't have to deal with school, I could sleep in, and I spent plenty of time with friends.

That had all changed. Now weekends meant I didn't have any reason to leave the house. My friends didn't want to hang out with me, and I wasn't informed of parties anymore. Most of the guys I'd been friends—and more—with in the past were no longer interested. So I usually sat around and did homework or chores, or watched stupid TV I wasn't interested in because there wasn't anything else to do.