Adorkable(63)
“Calm down, Sal. It was just—”
“Save it.” I hadn’t talked to him for the rest of the day.
After that, I learned to turn off my emotions. I didn’t want to be that girl. It was better to be a shell, empty. Go to school. Come home. Repeat. Over the next couple of days, I was pretty much unaware of anything.
When Mom let Hooker into the house, I didn’t even look up from my book. Gilbert was about to ask Anne to marry him, and like an idiot, she was going to stomp all over his heart. Turning the page, I sighed. Nice people always got trampled by the ones they loved.
“Spitz, what are you wearing?”
“Oh, hey,” I said, startled. Carefully, I slid my bookmark into place. “How’s it going, Hooker?”
“So you can still form complete sentences. I was starting to get worried.” She took a seat on the couch, and tugged on my fleece. “You didn’t seriously pay money for this.”
“What?” I looked down at myself. “Are you talking about my snuggie?”
“Your what-ee?”
“Snuggie,” I repeated. “It’s like a big, soft blanket you can wear as a robe.”
“Spitz—” Her lip curled as she held up one corner. “—it’s got that little green guy on it.”
I tugged the material away, frowning. “That’s Yoda.”
“I know who it is.”
“It’s a Star Wars snuggie. Special edition.”
Hooker sighed. “Spitz, are you kidding me with this?”
“What?”
“This.” She held out a hand, gesturing to me. “Are you really going to let Becks do this to you?”
“This isn’t about Becks,” I said, teeth clenched.
Hooker rolled her eyes. “Yeah, okay.”
“It’s not.”
“You’re not fooling anybody, Spitz.” She shook her head. “Your mom’s worried. I’m worried. You know, I even think Becks is worried. This isn’t healthy.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I sniffed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“This is an intervention. Get up,” she demanded, pulling on my arm. “We’re having a Girls Night.”
I blinked. “What?”
“You know, Girls Night, make-up, clothing, ice cream, popcorn and a movie, the works.”
“Which movie?”
Sensing she was getting nowhere, she dropped my arm and said, “I was thinking maybe we’d watch one of those episodes you love so much.”
“You mean…”
“Yes, yes, I mean the ones with Yoda and Skytalker and all those freaks.”
I grinned. “It’s Skywalker.”
“Whatever.”
“But you never agreed to watch them before—and you know how much I hate make-up.”
“This is an emergency,” Hooker said, looking me over. “It’s all about give and take, Spitz. God, just look at that hair. I’m going to have to spend like an hour alone on that frizz.”
Actually, it took more like thirty minutes.
Once I’d showered, I let Hooker do her thing. Hair came first, tackling what she called “the danger zone,” then make-up, which took another thirty. She went a bit heavy on the eyeliner if you ask me, but I wasn’t arguing. Hooker had never watched any of the episodes before. “Superheroes are one thing,” she’d said. “Talking robots and a full-grown man in a Big Foot suit is another story.” I’d told her a thousand times that Chewie was not in fact a relation of Big Foot, just a Wookiee slave turned smuggler, but she’d refused to listen. By the end of tonight, she’d understand.
Finding the right clothes took another hour and a half since Hooker said the choices were slim. “Hideous,” was the word she used, but Hooker was one of those people who had no filter, so I let it slide.
“Phew,” Hooker said, swiping a hand across her forehead. “You actually look human again. Just look at yourself, Spitz. You are one hot mama.”
Looking in the mirror, I thought the skirt was a little short, the top too tight, the heels ridiculous and the make-up just silly, but I didn’t say anything. Hooker had worked hard to make me look this slutty.
“Thanks, Hooker,” I said instead. “You did great.”
“Yeah, I know.” She rested her chin on my shoulder, smiling at our reflection. “I’m a miracle worker. Let’s go downstairs and show Martha.”
Mom nearly dropped the cookies she was taking out of the oven when she saw us.
“Sally, where did you get those clothes?” Me, I corrected mentally. When she saw me. “That skirt is…it’s…”