I snorted. "Whatever." But as I studied my reflection, I thought she might be right.
Cindy shook her head and continued to pet Gatsby, who sat on her lap, purring noisily. She still wore her jeans but had a strapless nude bra on top.
The party was in a half-hour, but twenty minutes ago, we agreed to meet at Professor Pops'.
Cindy's hair was in three loose French braids that came together in the back near the nape of her neck. She curled the ends and pinned them into a bun and put little baby blue flowers in between the curls.
Her makeup was a little darker than usual. "Dramatic," was what she called it.
My eye makeup was similar.
On her lips, she wore a light pink gloss.
On my lips was a dark red that matched my dress.
Cindy spent an hour using different sizes of irons to put
