Being Emily by Rachel Gold

liquid foundation, a compact with four shades of eye shadow, a bunch of brushes to put it on with, bronzer, an eyebrow pencil, two lipsticks and mascara. I must have looked at her blankly, because she sat down looking concerned.
    “Is it okay? I told Mom I wanted makeup, so some of it might be the wrong colors, but I can show you how to do the eyes, I think. I’m sorry, I’ve avoided my mom’s crazy ideas of womanhood so long that I missed a few lessons in all this stuff.”
    I grabbed her and hugged her until she grumbled, “You’re crushing me.”
    “It’s the best,” I told her.
    She shut the door and locked it. “Here are the makeup removing wipes. Mom isn’t supposed to get home for a couple hours, but if she does, I’ll go distract her while you get it off, okay?”
    I nodded.
    “All right, hold still.” She took the foundation out of the bag and a triangular sponge. “Man, this is weird.”
    “If you don’t want to—” I started.
    “Shut up,” she said. “Just let me be weirded out, okay?”
    I looked at her closely, but she was smiling a little, so I let it go.
    We played around for about an hour, and I turned out to be better with the eye makeup than Claire. “You are so doing my makeup for prom,” she quipped. At the end of it, I looked okay. Slightly drag queenish because we overdid the eye color and Claire put the blush too low, but on the whole, very good for a first try. I was going to have to figure out some reason to pluck my eyebrows. Maybe I could audition for the school play; that would give me a good cover story.
    I looked at myself in the mirror for a while, trying to figure out where I could get a wig. Natalie would know. Then I wiped it all off, using three wet wipes to make sure I got every last trace.
    “Thanks,” I told Claire.
    I flopped down on the bed on my back and held my arms open to her. She cuddled up to me and propped herself up on her elbow so she was looking down into my face.
    “Don’t mention it,” she said. “Is it okay if I still think you’re cuter without makeup?”
    “I guess , I kind of still have a guy face.”
    “You should try guyliner sometime.”
    “What?” I asked.
    “You know, when guys in the movies wear dark eyeliner and it makes their eyes look really sexy.”
    “But—” I started.
    “I know,” she said. “You’re not a guy. But if you ever get busted, tell them you were going for the guyliner look.”
    I grinned up at her and wondered if she would think it was too weird for us to kiss after I’d been wearing makeup. I didn’t get to find out because we heard her mom coming in the front door and she sat up quickly on the bed. “That’s your cue,” she said, giving me a quick kiss. “See you tomorrow.”
    “Bye, Ms. Davis,” I said to Claire’s mom as I was heading for the door.
    She turned from the counter where she’d set her purse. “Hi Chris, you don’t want to stay and catch NCIS ? There’s a gothic woman in it, like Claire.”
    From the doorway to her room, Claire rolled her eyes at me, though we did both agree that the character of Abby on NCIS was awesome. The issue was her mother’s attempts to be friendly. Claire thought it was bad enough that her mom was more like a sister to her. She didn’t want the three of us to pal around together, even on the couch in the privacy of her own home.
    “Thank you, but I’ve got to get working on my homework,” I said and slipped into the cold air.
    I drove home and checked myself in the rearview mirror one more time to make sure I had no lingering eyeliner. I felt a little stupid to be so jazzed about makeup. The guys at school would totally kick my ass if they knew. But on the other hand, I looked better than some of the girls who went crazy with makeup and huge hair. I had to figure out how to look less like a drag queen, though. If only I had a sister whose fashion magazines I could steal. I’d have to find good makeup tips from the Internet.

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