Changing the Past

I want to go back and change the past. What I said to Harry Styles in School was all a lie...
My name is Grace Shuatsi and I am 18 years of age. If I told people that I went to School with Harry Styles nobody would believe me. That I was not only friends with him, oh no, I was best friends. The closest friend anyone could have. But something went wrong on the night of the prom... Something which made Harry forget...

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26. Changing the Past; Chapter 26; Valentines Week Part 5

3 hours past and Sarah is still designing. I can hear the pen scratching from my room, stopping for a few seconds, then scratching again. I put my book I was reading down and stare at the wall. If she doesn't finish planning in an hour, I've going to make her. Change of plans, I'll make her finish now. 
"Sarah, are you finished yet?" I ask, leaning my arm on the table. 
"Yep. I finished ages ago so I thought I could just take up the time with designing accessories. Look at this cute little purse I designed." Sarah held up the piece of paper she was drawing on and I see a beautiful red and silver dress. It's so simple looking but breath-takingly beautiful. It's strapless with yet, another belt above the waist. This time the belt has small, clear diamonds on it and one large one at the front. Next to the dress is a red V-shaped purse. Above the button is silver netting with a heart in the lowest dip of the V. There is shoes too; blood red 3 inch heels with (obviously) silver joining the two front parts of material protecting the foot. I stared at it, shocked.
"How did you... Come up with the idea?" I ask, pointing blindly to the drawing of the dress. Sarah grins and says,
"Imagination. A fashion designer has to have a lot of imagination." I snap myself out of the trance and say,
"Well, come on. Let's go. We need to get the materials for the dress." Sarah looks up from her drawing and nods, standing up. After gathering a few things together, we head out the door. 

2 hours later

"I'll be in the wardrobe if you need me," Sarah says, carrying the bags of material we bought today. My mind takes a few seconds to adjusts to what she just said and then realise that she's talking about the walk-in-wardrobe we added last year. The one that she's made all my dresses in. 
Sarah walks through her room and into her wardrobe. I hear the door close softly. Naturally, I want to know what she's doing so I creep into her room and press my ear against the door. I can't hear anything and decide to leave her alone. I undress into my pyjamas and slowly get into bed. It takes me a while to get to sleep but I know that I will wake up early tomorrow: tomorrow is the big day. 

Day 7 (14/2/13)

It's 6am and I'm already awake. I can't get back to sleep so an hour later, I decide to have a shower. No boy likes a girl with greasy hair, do they? In fact, no girl likes a girl with greasy hair unless they like the feel and look of smelly wet pasta. Maybe there is someone out there who likes that... Oh God, what am I thinking about? No doubt that there will be more of this today. Rambling Aimlessly. I step into the shower and use my best, most expensive shampoo and conditioner I have for the best effect I can get and I wash my body with cream soap that smells like oranges. Once I get out, I apply a thick coat of orange body butter. I towel dry my hair and open the window to let the steam out. Someone knocks on the door. 
"Yeah?" I say, wrapping my towel around me. 
"Hey Grace. I hope your ready to try on the dress I made. I need to adjust it slightly to your body shape," Sarah says, "Is it ok for me to open the door?" I nod and realise that she obviously can't see me. 
"Oh, er yeah. You can." She opens the door slightly and looks in. 
"You finished?" She asks and I take a deep breath and say, 
"Yes." 

"Turn for me," Sarah demands. I follow her orders and turn so my back is facing her. I feel the tape measure wrap around my waist and shudder. It's freezing. 
"Wow," I hear her gasp. 
"What?" 
"I've got all the measurements exactly right. You might as well keep the dress on." I turn to face her and say,
"It's 10am. I have 9 hours to get ready." She clasps her hands together and nods.
"Never too much time to get ready. You need your make up doing. And your hair. Oh and try on the shoes and jewellery I made for you." Sarah hands me a pair of shoes, exactly the same as the one on the drawing, a pair of red jewl dangly earrings with a matching neck less and ring. I put them all on and Sarah examines my feet. 
"They're too small aren't they?" She says, trying and failing to push the heel of my foot into the shoe. 
"Yeah. But everything else is perfect. Just one thing."
"What?"
"What will be my coat?" Sarah looks at me and smiles.
"If Harry is a real gentleman then he should ask if you are cold. If you say yes, he should give you his blazer."
I nod and take off the shoes and jewellery. "I'll fit these shoes whilst you go and do your make up." 

I stare at myself in the mirror 2 hours later with my make up on. I decided on a simple smokey eye (following Tanya Burr's instructions) , complete skin make up and nude lipstick. It took me so long because I got the eyes wrong twice and I had to wash off the make up, which peeled the foundation off and so I had to do my skin make up all over again. Twice. It's 12pm and I already have shakes hands. 5 hours to fill in before I have to do my hair. I sit down on the sofa and switch on a recorded episode of The Voice from last year. I feel too sick to eat. 

6 and a half hours later...

"You look so beautiful. I'm seriously jealous of you. You look amazing AND you get to go on a day with the one and only Harry Styles," Sarah says, touching one of my many curls on my head. She has managed to make my hair look like a brown version of the old Taylor Swift hair: extremely curly but amazing. She's also managed to put it in a very loose low bun that reveals all of my curls at the ends of my hair. Even I admit, I do look pretty good. 
"Says you who has kissed Niall Horan," I say playfully back. I'm too much in a good but queasy mood to be thinking about how much that annoys me right now. 
"You've kissed Harry AND Niall. In half an hour, Harry is going to give you a 'hello' kiss." 
"Why do you say that like you know the future?" I ask and she replies,
"It's obvious. Now, go into the living room, Harry could be here anytime in the next hour." 


I fiddle with my hands nervously thirty five minutes later. Harry is late. Only by five minutes, so that's ok, right? Everything's ok... No it's not. Nothing is. I'm waiting for him to knock on the door and burst through when I open it saying, 
"Sorry I'm late, babe. Traffic, then fans." And I would say, 
"It's ok, it's only five minutes. I wasn't like I was dying or anything." 
But there's no knock. And another five minutes later, there still isn't one. Sarah walks into the room carrying a glass of milk. She offers it to me but I decline, knowing that I will throw up if I drink a single drop of it. 
"H-he's not here, Sarah," I say, feeling myself choke on my own words. 
"Shhhh. It's ok. He will be soon. It must be traffic," she says, soothingly. She hugs me to calm me down. A knock at the door causes me to take a shape intake of breath. Sarah pushes me to my feet and nods. I nod back and whisper,
"Thank you so much for the d-dress. Bye." She nods again and I turn to face the door. Three steps and I can open the door. It will be within my reach. It will reveal Harry Styles, teenage heart-throb, the magazines would call him. Enough rambling, I tell myself to take those three steps and open the door. And I do. 

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