Inconsolable » Squid [Holes]

19: Understatement

The mascara wand barely touched her eyelashes when Mickey jerked away. It wasn't that she wasn't used to makeup, she had to regularly go "full face" as her mother puts it whenever it was competition day. No, it was the wielder of the mascara wand; Alexis had a way of brandishing it like a sword. With her hand held high and her grip tight, any resistance would be dealt with a quick blinding strike. Literally. Mickey had been on the receiving end of them one too many times.

"Would you—Mickey, for real, hold still!" Alexis grabbed the top of Mickey's head, her thumb poised over her right eye so as to force back the eyelid. "God! You're such a wimp!"

Mickey rubbed her lips together, grumbling beneath her breath. They slipped and slid around due to the glossy coating that Alexis had applied earlier. It tasted too much like coconut. How Alexis became so knowledgeable with makeup, she didn't know. It was just a week ago, basking in the golden glow of their dying days of summer, that they were running around the Country Club catching frogs and talking about forming a club when they entered high school. The day came and, the next thing Mickey knew, she was being pulled into the bathroom and was told that it was imperative to set their freshman year off right by looking the part: older.

"More like clowns," Mickey grumbled in response.

Alexis shot her a look. Mickey pinched herself on the leg, a quick punishment for saying the wrong thing again. She'd been tripping over her words since Alexis had cornered her in the bathroom. So far she'd indirectly insulted Alexis's clothes, weight, and face since the moment they were reunited. And Mickey apologized every time, she was just excited to see her friend again and...everything came out all at once in a spectacular form of word vomit. Alexis used to laugh about it. Now she just rolled her eyes and huffed, ending with that cutting look that would send Mickey searching for the right thing to say to placate her. But the right thing may as well be written in a foreign language that was impossible to decode. One week. How could someone be so different in just one week?

"Why are we doing this again? Who cares what we look like?" Mickey asked.

Alexis scoffed, carefully dragging the mascara against her dark eyelashes. "You should care. You don't want to start off freshman year with people thinking that you're a kid."

"We are kids."

"For now. The thing is, you still look like one." Alexis replaced the mascara wand into its tube and closed it with a loud snap! "How are we going to get into parties and have people take us seriously when you look...adorable?"

Mickey's stomach clenched painfully at Alexis's words and she turned her head, glancing at her reflection in the mirror behind her out the corner of her eye. How could she make one simple word turn into a brick careening at her face? So what if she was adorable? Her father called her that all the time. It was a good thing...wasn't it? Or did the vernacular somehow flip on her, like how sick traded hands and became an exclamation of approval.

"Do I really look that bad?" Mickey asked, her eyebrows furrowing.

"Course not. You're a babe," Alexis replied, flashing her a grin, "thing is, we're in high school now. That's what you want people to think. Rather than thinking you're, like, a baby. Get it?" Without waiting for a response, Alexis dug into her bag, which sat nestled in the sink, and removed a case of eyeshadow. She held it with such ease and dexterity, like a painter with a rounded pallet.

"I guess."

"Good. Now, close your eyes."

"You're not going to make me look...dumb...right?"