it. I was about to take it off when Lila burst in.
“You look good!” she said. I couldn’t tell whether she was just trying to make me feel better.
“No, I don’t,” I said. “I feel safe in plaid.”
“No plaid!” she said. “Wear this. You look hot.”
“I won’t feel comfortable.”
“You will. Just give it a few minutes.”
I sighed. “All right.”
“Now what about your face?”
I looked at it in the mirror. “What about it?”
“Makeup? I brought a whole bag full of crap. I think I’ve had some of it since before puberty.” She rummaged briefly and extracted a tube of glittery purple lip gloss. “See?”
“You think I need it?” I was afraid of makeup. It felt like using a toothpick to try to dam a waterfall. I knew that without it I didn’t have a chance with guys, but I was also afraid that if I did wear it and still no one noticed me, it would confirm all my worst fears about myself.
“Just put on some mascara,” Lila said. She never made me feel bad that I wasn’t interested in girly things like she was. I wondered how awful she must think I looked if she was suggesting it.
“Okay,” I said. “Just don’t make it look like I have spiders crawling out of my eyes.”
There was a soft knock on the door. Lila and I glanced at each other.
“Yeah?” I said.
My mother’s blond head came into view. “I just wondered if— Oh my God! Lila, did you get my daughter into an actual dress?”
Lila grinned. “I did. High five, right?” She held her hand up.
“Absolutely,” my mother said. She stuck her palm out but nearly missed Lila’s hand. She let the door slide open. “Can I come in, girls?”
“It’s a little crowded,” I said, but she was in already.
“Are you putting on makeup too?” my mother asked. “You should have told me! I thought I’d never get you wearing mascara, Charlie. Good work, Lil.”
“Mom, we need to go soon,” I said.
“Sure, I know, honey,” she said. “But you’ve got that mascara on a little thick, and if I could just…”
She always did that.
You look fine, but if I could just…
Like I was some deteriorating project of hers that needed constant shoring up.
“Okay, but fast,” I said.
“One second,” she said. She jabbed at my eyes with some kind of pencil. “Okay. That’s…well, it’ll do. Do you want to borrow a pair of my shoes? They might be a little small for you, but I think I have a pump that ran wide—”
“I have shoes,” I said. “We really need to go.”
She lifted her hands up. “Okay, okay, your interfering mother is leaving you alone now.” She paused for a second to survey her work. “Oh, honey,” she said. “You look beautiful.”
My throat closed. I grabbed her into a hug suddenly; I could hear her breath puff out with surprise.
“Thanks,” I said into her hair. “I love you.”
When I pulled back, her eyes were shiny. “Okay,” she said. “Go have fun. Take pictures, all right?”
I was already out the door. “No chance!” I called from the hallway.
“Do you actually have shoes?” Lila asked.
“Technically,” I said.
“Your gross old sneakers?”
“Yes.”
We passed my dad on our way to the door. His head shot up when he saw me.
“Charlie,” he said. “What are you wearing?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Lila made me. Is it horrible?”
“Don’t answer that,” Lila said. “She looks great.”
“I look like an idiot,” I said.
“No, you don’t,” he said. “You look wonderful.”
Lila moved toward the door, as fluid as water. “Let’s go, okay? It’ll be in full swing by now.”
“Get home safe,” Dad said. “If you need a ride, just call me, all right? I don’t care how late it is.”
“You’re awesome, Mr. Porter,” Lila said.
“I haven’t even gotten to what you’re wearing, Lila,” he said, frowning.
“Bye, Mr. Porter!” Lila rushed through the door.
“Bye, Dad,” I said.
“You do look lovely, Charlie,” he