"What's wrong with some light stabbing?"
Delving into vigilante-ism, Charlie Redmond has balance everything from her superhero neighbor to her math tests to her inability to talk about her feelings. Unlike her morally righteous co-worker, Spider-Man...
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"The blue one or the gold one?" Jackie holds up two dresses, both in glitter fabrics with short hems. Her hair is pulled up in a ponytail, a gold beret in her hair. Clothes were thrown in around in the room, her room only ever got this messy before a party. Other than that, the purple walled giant bedroom stayed impeccable.
"Blue," I say from her large bed, legs crossed, a black kohl liner in my hand and a mirror in the other. There was a sheer shadow on my lids that not even I could mess up and I was making progress in making my eyes be less bug-like. Keeping my hand as steady, I make another mark on my waterline. "fuck."
"Let me," Jackie says after she quickly slipped on her blue dress. It makes her already long legs look longer and tan with her heels. She takes the liner from hand and gently applies it. "I bought this dress the other day, it's super cute. It's too short on me, though, but I figure that your petiteness would fit in it fine. Wanna wear it?"
I nod, not fully paying attention, and she brings out the sparkly black dress. Thankfully, it leans on the more modest side, hiding at least most of the bruises from the other day. She leaves to get her purse while I try it on. It isn't a bad dress, but it's just different.
Jackie walks back in with her matching blue bag. She looks at me, then squints. "Did you lose weight?"
"I don't think so," I say looking at the slightly-looser dress, though it would have hung looser had I not eaten a few bowls of pozole. Knowing very well I could not admit I was exercising every day to kick stranger ass, look a little confused. Pretending to think about, I turn back. "Maybe it's all the sit-ups kicking in."
"Maybe," She smiles, giving me a joking bump on the hip. Then she looks at me through the mirror. Her body jolts up, then she digs in her drawers. Soon, pulls out a silver necklace with a simple circle on it and hands it to me. I put it on, carefully, this probably cost more than me. Jackie takes a step back and nods approvingly. "Good, now we both look stunning. Smile." In the blink of an eye, she pulls out the newest iPhone and takes a picture of us. I pull an awkward smile and notice she put her caption almost covering my face. Thank god. Once she's content, she puts her toned arm out to me. "Shall we?"
I take her arm gracelessly, tonight there's no Voltage, superhero neighbors, or blonde mentors. "Let us go to the STD cesspool of a gathering, my lady."
***
"This is going to be fun." Jackie smiles handing me a Mountain Dew and holding onto a red solo cup. The house is huge and flooded with people, most people moved between the living room and kitchen with the exception of a few stragglers who roamed up the lean white stairs. Loud music shook the house, it's bass burns into my skull and the tinted lights move things out of focus.
Parties are not my scene, something I learned when an older foster kid snuck a more naive ten-year-old me to one. The music was ear-splitting, a thick foul smell in the air. Someone grabbed me and I went numb, I don't remember what happened after aside from a cop ride home. They thought I had tried running away again. Even without memory blackouts, group festivities are shit.
