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Authors: Melody Carlson

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BOOK: Just Ask
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“But do you think there's something I could do to look different?” I try again. “So that guys would see me as more than just a friend? It seems like that's usually what happens. Guys don't—”

“Is this about Matthew?”

“Maybe. But it's really about guys in general, Nat. I mean, think about it, how many guys have ever really seen me as girlfriend material?”

“You and me both.”

“You've gone out with lots of guys, Nat.”

“Maybe, but never any guy who I really liked.”

“But guys like you, Nat. They seem to be attracted to you. If you could get your eyes off of Cesar long enough, you'd see that guys are looking at you.”

“Really?” She sounds interested. “Who?”

“I don't know. Anyway, this conversation was supposed to be about me.”

“It's all about you,” she teased.

“Yeah, this time it is. Tell me the truth, Nat. Do I need some kind of makeover? Or should I act differently? Or do I need to write a letter to Just Ask Jamie’?”

She laughed. “That's what you should do.”

“Fine.” Now I was ready to hang up.

“No, wait a minute, Kim. You want my serious take on you?”

“That's why I called.”

“Okay, I guess you don't really play up your looks much.”

“Maybe I don't know how.”

“Or maybe you don't care. That's what it usually seems like. Have you ever seen that show ‘What Not to Wear’?”

“No.”

“They take people with no fashion sense and give them makeovers. I've considered sending in your name.”

“Thanks a lot.”

“Well, it's like you don't care, Kim. I mean, even when we shop, you usually just buy the same kinds of things. Boring sweatshirts, ordinary jeans, you know, your comfort zone clothes. And your hair…you've been wearing it pulled back in a ponytail for years. Don't you think it's time for a fresh look?”

Suddenly I'm not sure whether to be hurt or relieved. “So are you saying there's hope for me?” I ask meekly “Do you really think I could improve my looks?”

“Haven't I said this a million times, Kim? Don't you remember how I nagged you before school started? Every time we went shopping, I tried to get you to try new things, but would you?”

“I figured they'd look silly on me. You can wear lots of things because you're tall, Nat. I have to be careful.”

“Too careful, if you ask me.”

“Right. And I guess I did.”

“So, do you want to do it then?”

“Do what?”

“A makeover.”

I considered this. What exactly was it that suddenly made me feel desperate enough to consider taking her up on this? Then I remembered Matthew. “Yeah, maybe so,” I finally said.

“So when do we start?”

“This weekend?” I managed to mutter.

“Sounds great. And my mom doesn't have to work so that gives us all day Saturday. This is going to be awesome!”

“Yeah, fun.” Okay, so my voice was less than enthusiastic. But this whole thing's a little frightening.

“God wants us to make the most of ourselves,” she added.

I considered this, but wasn't sure. “Yeah, well, I think I'll still write that letter to just Ask,’” I said in a teasing tone.

“Maybe you should do that. See what she tells you to do.”

“She?”

“Yeah, he, she, whatever.”

And so it's settled. Nat and I will hit the mall on Saturday and I will try to be open to her suggestions. Who knows, I might even consider cutting my hair, but I'm not so sure. Maybe just a different style. We'll see.

Okay, maybe I am doing this for all the wrong reasons. Or maybe not. It might be that I've been changing on the inside lately, and now I want to change on the outside too. Really, what's wrong with that?

Fifteen
Saturday, November 5

Natalie's makeover is complete. Whether it's a success or not remains to be seen. I'm not even sure what I think yet, although my parents seemed to approve, and my mom was relieved that I actually wanted to buy some “school clothes” as she put it, since I've never been into that sort of thing. Mostly I think they were relieved that Nat didn't encourage me to buy anything too whacked or anything that revealed my belly button.

My parents have a serious phobia about seeing anyone's midriff. Well, unless it's on a beach, that is. For some reason they're okay with that. To be honest, I'm just as happy not to go around exposing my belly anyway. Not that it's bad looking, mind you; it's really not. Still, having your belly hanging out just seems a little trashy to me. Or maybe it's just so yesterday.

Or maybe the truth is that I'm too traditional to dress like Paris Hilton or Nicole Richie (both those girls seriously irritate me!). In other words, you could say my taste in clothes leans more toward conservative—or preppie or sensible or just plain old lady. Or in Nat's words, “fashion impaired.”

“Don't even look at those jeans,” she told me in a bossy voice. We were at the Gap, one of the few places I can usually find something I like. “You already have several pairs just like that, Kim. Its all you ever wear.”

“But I like jeans.”

“Fine. I'm not saying there's anything wrong with jeans, but how about a different style? Get out of the box.”

So I allowed her to pick out things I wouldn't normally try. And to my surprise, they didn't look that bad. Okay, some of them were real loserville. But sometimes she'd find something pretty cool.

“I want you try on some of these.” She appeared at the dressing room door with an armful of sweaters and shirts in colors and patterns I would never dream of wearing.

“I don't know… “

Of course, she gave me her look and then actually growled. “We've got to get you out of those pathetic-looking hoodies, Km. It's like you're addicted or something.”

“Whatever.” I rolled my eyes as I relieved her of the pile and continued trying things on. And once again, she
was right about a few things. Not everything. But I did begin to realize that I really can wear a few unexpected colors. like who would've thought?

By the time we were done clothes shopping, Nat talked me into several things, including
à
PINK sweater. Now really, I've never considered myself a pink sort of girl, but Nat insisted it looked beautiful on me. And the salesgirl agreed, but then why shouldn't she, since she's there to push threads?

Then we went over to Splitting Hairs. Natalie had already set up a hair appointment for me at the same place where she'd gotten hers done just a couple weeks ago. “April is really good,” she assured me as we went into the brightly lit salon.

But I was already feeling nervous. I mean I haven't had anything but split-end trims for like the past six years. “Do I really want to do this?” I asked Nat as I held back, waiting by the entrance and considering just bolting.

“It's totally up to you,” she told me. “Just remember you're the one who said you wanted something different.”

“But you said you liked my hair… “

“I do. You have gorgeous hair, Kim. Hair to kill for. But you could look so hot in another style.”

I considered this, and suddenly I was sitting in a chair and April was combing out my hair. “Your hair is gorgeous.” She held it up then let it drop over my shoulders like a black waterfall.

I nodded, almost unable to speak.

“But its quite long.” She drew her brows together as she studied me. “And you're pretty tiny.”

“And she always wears it pulled back.” Natalie reached over now and pulled my hair back like it was in a ponytail. “And then all you see is her face, and it makes it look like her ears stick out like a monkey.”

“What?” I looked at my ears and was surprised to notice they did resemble a chimpanzee. “Thanks a lot, Nat. Why don't you tell us how you really feel?”

Natalie laughed. “Hey, you asked for my help.”

“What if we cut your hair so it still felt sort of long, but not so long that you always want to pull it back?” suggested April.

I shrugged, still staring at my monkey ears which had now grown slightly red and even larger.

“Do you trust me?” asked April, bending down to look directly into my face. I glanced nervously over at Natalie, then noticed once again how great her hair looked.

“Sure, you did a good job with Nat's hair.”

So I decided to just close my eyes and wait. I tried not to think about anything as Aprils scissors went snip, snip, snip. Then after what seemed like hours, she finally told me to look.

Okay, at first I was pretty shocked to see my long hair gone. But then I took a closer look and realize that what she'd done really framed my face. She cut my hair into layers. But not those nice and neat kinds of layers.
She made it sort of choppy and cool looking. I gave my head a shake to watch it move. “I like it.”

“You do?” Natalie's eyes were huge, like she was all worried that I was about to have a huge panic attack.

“Yeah. Why not?” I said calmly. “Don't you like it?”

She sighed. “I totally like it. It's just so different, you know? I was kinda worried you might not like it.”

“But it looks cool on you,” April said as she removed the haircutting cape. “Très chic.”

I smiled. “Hike it.”

Next Natalie insisted we go to the makeup counter at Nordstrom. And even though it was her idea, I was actually getting into this whole scene. No more arguing from me.

“This is so fun,” said Nat. “Just like being on one of those reality shows, like Trading Faces.’”

“Trading Faces?’” I laughed. “Is that for real?”

She nodded as she held up a lip color that might work for her, but didn't seem like anything I would wear. I kept wandering from one cosmetic section to the next, unsure of what I was even looking for. I finally lost Nat to this woman who was wearing sparkling lavender eye shadow that I thought looked pretty cheesy—although I suspect Nat may be able to pull it off.

That's when I decided to look for a sales clerk who had on the kind of makeup I might be comfortable with. This was my very own idea and quite brilliant if I do say so myself. I ended up at the Clinique counter with a college-aged Asian woman named Nichol. Her makeup
seemed soft and natural looking, with a very light touch, and she seemed to know exactly what would be best for me. Thankfully, Natalie agreed too. Even though she'd gotten some of that sparkling stuff for herself. To each her own.

It was after four by the time we left the mall, and I was totally exhausted, not to mention nearly broke. It was a good thing my parents offered me some extra money for this little spending spree. In fact, they were so supportive of this whole thing, it almost made me wonder if they hadn't gotten together with Natalie in the first place.

“Wow, you look awesome,” Nat said after we got up to my room and I started trying on some of my new purchases together with my new hairstyle and makeup. “You're like a totally new woman.”

And I couldn't help but think maybe she was right. Although I felt kind of strange too. No more hiding beneath baggy jeans and hoodies. Not that my new look was over the top or anything. I mean in a way it's still pretty conservative. Only a little more interesting, I guess.

Natalie made me go downstairs to show off her hard work. “You look beautiful, Kim,” my mom told me as I attempted a runway turn while wearing my favorite outfit—the one with the PINK sweater. Go figure.

“Let me take a picture!” my mom exclaimed suddenly, making me feel like I was back in grade school again.

So, feeling slightly idiotic and nerdish, I stood in front
of the fireplace, posing like a fashion model while my overly zealous mom took some photos of me.

“I hope this doesn't go to her head,” teased Natalie.

“Don't worry,” my mom assured her. “Kim is the least vain person I know.”

“Don't be so sure,” I admitted as I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror above the mantel. “Maybe I just know how to conceal it.”

Mom smiled with approval. “That's what makes you such a lady”

Well, I don't know about that, but I do feel a lot more feminine now. And I guess I'm curious if anyone else will notice my little transformation. To be honest, I'm feeling a little uncomfortable too. I mean, it's not like it's ever been my goal to draw attention to myself.

But seriously, I keep telling myself, my little “makeover” only makes me look more like most of the other girls at my school, as far as clothes and makeup goes. I'm still petite and Asian. And with regard to my appearance and compared to others, I still lean toward the traditional styles. It's just that I no longer blend so perfectly with the walls anymore.

My first opportunity to try out my “new look” was at youth group that same night. And the reactions were mixed. Cesar didn't seem to really like it that much, or at least he didn't say anything complimentary. For some reason this made me feel bad. But then Jake made up for it when he told me I looked like a babe. Even so, I think the best compliment I got was from Chloe.

“Kim!” she grabbed me by both hands when she saw me. “You look so awesome!”

“Really, you like it?”

“I love it. That haircut is perfect.”

I thought it was kind of ironic that Josh's message tonight was from a Scripture that says we are a “new creation” and how we have to put off the old (bad) things and become new. And while I know Josh was talking about our interior selves (and I do feel that God is making me new inside), it was kind of interesting that my exterior has changed too.

Still, I fully realize that it's the inward changes that matter most. And I do want to grow out of my old ways, like criticizing others or being jealous or just having a bad attitude. I do want to be changed (from the inside out), and I do want to end up looking more like God through and through.

I suppose everything that happened today made me really take a look at this particular “Just Ask” letter.

Dear Jamie,

   I've really blown it, and my life is so bad I don't even know who to talk to anymore. I'm sixteen, and my ex-boyfriend introduced me to “recreational” drugs about a year ago. At first I convinced myself that it was no big deal and that I'd never get seriously hooked. But now I'm pretty sure that I'm an addict. My parents are these really normal go-to-church-on-Sunday kind of people and have no idea about my “secret” life. When my
grades began slipping, I made up a big excuse, and they even hired a tutor to help me. But now I think I'm pregnant, and I don't know how to tell them. Not only that, my ex-boyfriend just learned that he has HIV, and now I need to get checked too. I feel like just giving up. I mean, what hope is there for someone who's this messed up?

   Messed Up and Lost

BOOK: Just Ask
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