Free Choke by Diana Lopez

Elena never had good ideas like this.
    We went to Dillard’s. As we walked through the cosmetics department, a lady offered to squirt us with perfume, so we held out our wrists. The mist was cool, and I liked the floral scent even though it made me sneeze.
    â€œThis is really expensive,” I said, glancing at the prices on the makeup containers.
    â€œDon’t worry. My treat.”
    â€œOh, no. I couldn’t, Nina.”
    â€œIt’s not a problem. I owe you, remember?”
    â€œFor what?”
    â€œFor being my friend. I was the new kid at school, and you made me feel right at home. I was really lucky to meet you.”
    Wow! Her compliment put me on cloud nine. If I kepthanging out with Nina, I’d be in the in-crowd before the semester ended. I just knew it.
    â€œI guess you can treat me, then,” I said. “But let’s look at the clearance or the discontinued stuff.”
    Nina agreed and bought me a brown eyeliner, a very natural-looking lip gloss, a compact that was the exact shade of my skin, and a bottle of clear polish for my nails. The total was over $20, but she paid. I figured her parents must have a lot of money.
    â€œLet’s go to the restroom,” Nina said, heading to the hallway behind the customer service counter.
    The restroom at Dillard’s had a parlor with a small sofa, a coffee table, an arrangement of fresh flowers, and a huge gold-framed mirror. Another door led to a room with silver stall doors, and sinks that were nestled in a black marble countertop that almost looked like a mirror because it was so clean. The whole place smelled like lavender. And everything was no-touch. Just wave the hand beneath the faucet for water or under the dispenser for soap.
    First, I washed my face. Then we sat on the sofa in the parlor. Nina took the compact and brushed the powder onto my face. It tickled the way Raindrop’s fur tickled when he nuzzled against my neck. Next, she told me to close my eyes as she applied the eyeliner. I could feel her body warmth as she leanedclose and smell the perfume that lingered on her wrists. Finally, she handed me the lip gloss, telling me to use just a little bit.
    â€œYou look great,” she said.
    I looked at my reflection in the mirror. I did look great. Nina was right, again. My skin looked smoother, my lips fuller, and my eyes more defined.
    â€œYou think Ronnie will notice?” I asked.
    â€œAre you kidding? He’s been noticing you all week.”
    It was true. Ever since our conversation at the bus stop, Ronnie had found me in the cafeteria or hallway and talked to me. A lot.
    â€œLet’s do your nails,” Nina said.
    She took a file from her purse and shaped my nails, rounding the edges and making them all even. Then she opened the bottle of clear polish. For a while, the chemical smell overpowered the lavender, but I got used to it. Nina took the little brush and swept it over my nails. Then she blew on them, her breath like autumn’s first cool front, the one that reminds you that the sweets and gifts of Halloween and Christmas are only a few weeks away.
    I knew it was a stupid question, but I had to ask. “Is this how you become a breath sister?”
    She laughed a little, and I felt like a kid who still believes thunder is the sound of angels bowling.
    â€œI thought you knew what a breath sister was,” she said.
    â€œI do. It’s like being a blood brother, right?”
    â€œThe concept’s the same.”
    I stared at her, waiting for more.
    She stopped blowing on my nails but still held my hands. Then she asked, “Have you ever heard of the choking game?”

I know about metaphors. We talk about them in English class. Metaphors happen when people say something that really stands for something else. Like when you say “letting the cat out of the bag” or “spilling the beans” instead of “telling a secret.” There isn’t a cat in a