Don't change

I was tired of being the geek, the loner, the fat one. I wanted more than one friend. I wanted to be popular, pretty, sexy. So I got a makeover..


27. His message


On Sunday, the day after my date, I woke up early after a night of unrestful sleep. My dreams had been haunted by a giant purple monster with Dan's head, chasing after me, and he was getting nearing and nearer. His arms grasped my waist, and then I awoke. By the looks of it my nightmares had come back...
I got up and dressed, and went to go and do my make-up. I picked up my normal stuff, concealer, powder and blusher, and looked in the mirror. My reflection stared back at me unblinkingly, the bluey circled under my eyes obvious and a few spots erupting on my forehead. My hair was a mess, and I looked lifeless. I needed foundation, I decided. I carefully applied some, and it covered my spots and imperfections nicely. I brushed my hair, and looked in the mirror satisfied. I was presentable now.
I was just about to see if I could meet Lisa when my phone beeped. It was a message from Alex, which stated that we had to talk, and could I come round his in five minutes. I was confused about how had for my BBM (probably from Max or something), but I replied yes. I was intruiged, in keeping with my plan I hadn't spoken to him all week, I had basically ended our friendship by doing that. What could the matter be?
I shoved on a hoodie and pulled on some canvas pumps, and wrote a note telling my parents where I was, before opening the door and stepping out.
The sky was a deep grey, and there was a strong wind; a sharp contrast to yesterday's sunshine. I snuggled my hands into my pockets, and went and knocked on Alex's door. He appeared to have been waiting for me, and opened the door. "Come in," he said stiffly, moving out the way. I took a final glance outside, and went in.
He led me through the hallway, him walking in front while I followed. His mum was good at designing, and the house was homely and warm, like a giant hug. I loved the way she managed to make ordinary things seem so different, with a patchwork cushion here and a bowl of potpourri there. It was a stark contrast to the modern design in my house.
We reached the patio doors, and Alex and I went out into the garden. He sat underneath the oak tree (with the treehouse in), and I did the same. He looked deep into my eyes, and I looked into his. A weird feeling surrounded me, like there was a giant firework inside me spitting sparks. The air was full of tension, so much it felt like the air would snap. I couldn't take it anymore.
"So," I began, still looking into his eyes, "what do you want to talk about?"
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