Chapter 4

Ava

 

I look like an idiot. I’m in my room looking in the mirror, disgusted at myself. I’m getting ready to go to the restaurant to meet my grandparents for dinner. I’m wearing this dress that makes me look like a little kid. I just want to die. I don’t really have any other good dresses, so I’m dead. At least mom hasn’t looked at me yet, so I’m good. For now. I’m startled by my door opening. It’s just Emily, which makes me feel calm. Emily looks at me and laughs. I roll my eyes and go on my knees.

“Please Em, help me!” I say which makes her laugh more. I know begging for my sister to help me is a little bit pathetic, but come on. I look like a five-year-old! Emily takes my hands and brings me up. Emily looks so pretty, and I just look like a kid. She’s wearing this tight cute beachy purple dress. And damn, she looks good. I mean I hope she’s not trying to pick up someone there over dinner. I mean, Emily is not that good at keeping guys. The most she’s been with a guy was only a month. I mean come on! Emily’s hair is down, but curled which makes me want to touch it. She takes my hand and leads me to her room. She opens her closet which makes a big thump.

I sit down on her bed, hoping she’s not going to give me a slutty dress. Thankfully she pulls out a cute blue beachy dress, not tight, but just enough to hug my body in the right places. Ugh, never mind, I don’t want it. It’s tight on the chest, but flowy on the bottom. I put it on quickly without saying anything because I know Emily’s going to shut me up. I walk over to her mirror and groan. My boobs look big. Like I don’t have big big boobs, but this dress is pretty tight on the top, so of course my boobs are going to look big. Hoping that there are no boys there, I’ll be fine. Emily then pulls out a pair of shoes that match the dress. What else does she have in there? A hair stylist? She tells me to sit down, which I do as she goes down on the ground and puts the heels on me. She must think I’m an idiot. I can’t put high heels on my feet. But she’s right, I can’t. I mean, these types of heels have so many straps, and it would take me a long time to do. Luckily Emily is fast, so we have time to do my hair. Emily hasn’t said anything and neither have I.

I guess she works well when everything is quiet. I sit down on her chair as she does my hair. She curls it fast, then puts it in a cute messy low bun. She then sprays it with perfume to make it smell good, I think? She moves to my face next. She puts some eyeshadow, mascara, blush then some clear sparkly lip balm. I know when she finishes by the squeal that she makes.

“I should be a makeup artist or something.” She says putting her makeup back into place. I get of the chair and give her a big hug.

“Thanks, Em. I don’t know what I would without you.” I say, which makes her squeeze tighter.

“I know.” She says letting go of the hug and looking me in the eyes. I smile and take her hand as we go downstairs. I see my parents in the kitchen all dolled up like us. My dad is wearing a suit, while my mom in a nice dress. They see me and Em and it makes them smile. I bring my phone just in case, and put it in my bag. I walk out first and go in the car. Em sits next with me of course, and my parents in the front.

“You look so pretty, Ava.” My mom says, turning to see me. I smile and then look at Em. She’s rolling her eyes of course. I mean, who wouldn’t. I didn’t even do all of this. Em did, which makes her mad.

“What about me, mom? What am I? Chopped liver?” She says which makes me burst into a laugh. My mom just waves her hand at my sister, while rolling her eyes.

“Nonsense, Emily. You look really pretty. Both of you do.”

“Thanks, mom.” Me and Em say at the same time. We both laugh and then go back to what we were doing. I go on my phone and check Instagram, and of course, nothing on my page. I stopped posting when I got out of the hospital. I didn’t need anybody say how pretty I looked in the picture, or where I got that shirt, or where I took the pic. I don’t need any of that. All I need is me, and my family. I close Instagram and take out my earphones out of my bag. I plug them into my phone and lean back into the seat, and listen to the music vibrating through my whole body. I’m in sync right now with my music, and there’s nobody stopping me.