I Wish

Chapter 20

It was one thirty in the morning when Jeremy came back. Sneaking in like a ghost, I heard the sound of the living room tv drift through the open door. Mum and dad must still be up watching their dork shows, or hardcore horror. One day they would realise that Mark loves horror, and they can stop sneaking around each other to take turns watching the same gorefest thrillers in secret. I was glad I didn’t give up and go to bed, I thought as the door closed with a soft click. I’d gone through all my make-up twice, and thankfully now that I looked at the sheer amount I had, it was clear that I easily had enough for two people. I’d found an old black pencil case, and cleared it out, plopping it on the bed. It wasn’t something that my brother would look out of place carrying.

“What is all this for?” Jeremy whispered with wide eyes, and okay I admit if you looked at the minimal that mum had it wasn’t surprising. I went through a stage where I had obsessively followed tutorials, and thought I had enough skill to need all of this. I wasn’t bad at it, I was just never able to pull it off as well as they showed. Usually I’d be able to make it look like I’d done it on purpose so that was something at least. Turning my attention back to my brother who was standing frozen on the spot, I chuckled and started holding them up one by one.

“Primer. Concealer. Contour. Liquid foundation. Powder foundation. Bronzer. Blush. Eyeshadow. Eyeliner pen. Liquid eyeliner. Mascara Lip Liner. Lipstick. Lip Gloss, and chapsticks,” I say, listing them off in amusement as I showed him, “Don’t freak out, you’re still in the tinted moisturiser beginner level.” He shook his head, possibly at the fact that I had more chapstick than I did hair ties. It wasn’t my fault, they just had so much in the way of fun to say flavours. Actually I thought deviously, maybe it was time I started to wear those again. Jeremey snorted before he responded, and I got it. This was a whole lot of crap and he probably didn’t know how to use half of it yet.

“Still freaking out. Are you supposed to wear all of this at once?” he asked, baffled and taking a seat next to the giant pile of stuff. I laughed quitely. Freaking out or not, I’d seen the look on his face before. When it was Christmas, we would all sit around the tree, and wait for our parents to wake up so we could open presents. Conviction in an opinion that I’d formed myself really felt good, there was a difference between that and the magically induced that I’d come to realise, and looking at Jeremy’s face I just knew. What I was doing here was the right thing, chips fall where they may later.

“You don’t really need anything that comes before the eyeshadow,” I said before revising my statement, “Actually, we don’t need any of this. We wear it because we want to. Just don’t ask me why we want to, because I ask myself that question every time I have to take it off.” He nodded, but I wasn’t so sure he understood exactly what I meant. I spent the next twenty minutes teaching him how to do the bare basics. Tinted moisturiser, mascara, tiniest bit of eyeliner and chapstick.

“So that thing that women do, where there’s a big line on their neck that looks like a tan line... that’s not supposed to be there?” he asked as I showed him how to blend it, “That can’t be right. That many people can’t be screwing it up.” The phrasing made me wince, thinking that someone else was going to get quite angry at that. Nobody liked to be told they’d screwed something up.

“Some people can’t see it, some people don’t realise it happens, some didn’t get taught to fix, and others just don’t care,” I said with a shrug, “Telling someone that they’ve got one seems like a nice thing to do, don’t. Not unless you know damn well they’ll appreciate it, otherwise you can have one angry and offended individual on your hands.” He looked at me startled, and I sighed trying to find a better way to word it.

“Why wouldn't someone prefer to be told, rather than be left to walk around with it all day?” he asked as though that made perfect sense, and it did. Logically. The trouble was in most cases logic wasn’t any help.

“Well for one, it’s embarrassing. Hey stranger, you don’t know me but I saw your make-up from across the room and I have an issue with it,” I snorted at the idea, “Plus for all you know they’ve gotten up at five thirty in the morning, two hours before they had to, and tried really hard only for some asshole to go hey, you missed a spot.” He winced.

“Oh. That’d really bite the big one,” he agreed, starting to see where I was coming from. Yeah, oh I thought, as I started tipping the things I was giving him into the pencil case. He didn’t stay for much longer than that. There was school work again the next day and two nights up until stupidly early in the morning was pushing it for morning functionality, thankfully he seemed to know that already so I didn’t have to explain. “Maybe next time I can wear it longer than five minutes,” he muttered, staring into the mirror, before wiping it off and leaving. Jeremy took the bag and presumably stashed it in the bathroom in my draw, where nobody would question it being there. I had to sort this s**t out pronto, which meant finding an actress that looked enough like Ivy that it didn’t look fake when I pointed out how attractive they are. I wasn’t even sure if I should call bi or lesbian. One way or another Ivy was beginning to look like the future. Even if I didn’t get into a proper relationship with her, and something in the back of my head coughed ‘mate’ the same way that highly unoriginal sometimes coughed the word slag, I still didn’t see her just letting me be with anyone else. I didn’t see me much wanting to be with someone else, even if I didn't want to be with her. In the end there were no actresses that looked like Ivy, probably because she was literally out of this world, and I discovered that I was going to need a plan b.

“I should have known better,” I scolded myself. This had to have been the extremely roundabout way of doing things. Especially when I knew from the start that I didn’t have to find someone else I found attractive, I just had to find someone it would be reasonable to be attracted to. I felt like I had only gone looking to see if there was… I’m not sure. To see if I was capable? I wasn’t, or at least if I was I hadn’t found them and I’d put a decent forty-five minutes into this search. Ian Somerhalder didn’t fit the criteria I was looking for, but I decided to check anyway because if anything on the male side of things was going to get a response he was it. Nothing. Zip, nada, nope. I didn’t understand it, I could still see pretty. It was just as if they weren’t people anymore, they were art and as gorgeous as a painting was… well, hopefully you get the point without it being spelt out. Anyway, plan B. Given that mine is a family of nerds, Scarlett Johanson was a pretty safe bet. Actually it was one of the only bets if I wanted to guarantee that dad would be in the room with us. Marvel movies meant folding the laundry in the living room. So lunchtime then, tomorrow. That made me uneasy, but I committed to it anyway. This wasn’t going to get anything other than worse if I sat here procrastinating on it. Briefly I took a moment to appreciate how scared I would be if I had even the smallest instinct that something bad was going to happen.

It was irritating that the thought of Ivy helped. It helped to squash the little voice in the back of my head asking ‘What if?’ Knowing that whatever happens tomorrow, even if I’m wrong and I really should have worried, I have a home and at least one person who will want me in it was comforting. I was never telling her that, all she’d hear is me and her living in the same place. I wasn’t in a place where I was willing to find out what she’d do with that, because whatever it was would be extreme. I’d go so far as to put money on skewed to her favour. I tried not to wonder what she's doing now, and how sad she’d be when she realised that tonight wasn’t her night. Honestly tomorrow might not be that good either, but taking it day by day felt sensible.

The next morning I woke up to the sound of the boys getting ready to sign in for their online learning. Which meant that it wasn’t even eight o’clock yet. I groaned, and slammed my face into my pillow. Today was the day, and although I was really hoping I would wake up later in the day so I didn’t have to wait so long for lunchtime this was my lot. I wasn’t going back to sleep now. Torn between holling up in my room, so nobody noticed how off I was, or going down and trying to act naturally I spent so much time fretting that I actually began to feel sick by the time that lunch breaks were called. Dad meandered out of his office. Wearing, from the waist up, a suit jacket and tie, and from the bottom fluffy pajama pants and slippers.

“Conference call?” I asked, the barest of grins forming on my face. I’d never stop being amused by that. Only having to be in an acceptable dress code where the camera could see was the best part about going to school in lockdown. Either that or class in bed.

“Yeah,” he said tugging at his pants, “When the world goes back to normal I’m going to miss dressing like this for work.” Silver lining to every cloud, I guess but still I had to ask.

“Yeah, okay but can you find literally one other decent thing about any of this?” I questioned him. He snorted and shook his head. No verbal response, but I should have asking such a dumb question. We were both in agreement that the answer was no, by the way. Hard, hard no.

“What are you doing?” he asked instead. Suddenly acting natural was well beyond my reach, I was too busy worrying about accidentally swallowing my tongue. That, tripping over or choking on air. This is what I get for picking on people in movies who get nervous and completely fall apart, but seriously now? Karma has to pick now to take that swing.

“I’m thinking of a Marvel movie. Wanna come watch, the boys and mum will probably come sit with us,” I offered. He smiled, and it was a little strained around the edges.

“I’ve been in a conference for three hours, but I’ll get the wash and see how long I can sit with you, okay?” the counter offered, “I might duck in and out.” The many years that this had been normal meant it didn’t sting as much as it used to, but I was old enough to understand that just sitting around wasn’t an option for dad. Hell, sitting around doing things sometimes wasn’t an option and somewhere along the line I’d learned to live with that. It was just one of those things that wasn’t anybody's fault, it wasn't even all bad, it was just how it was.

“I’ll save you a seat,” I promised heart thudding with nerves, although I didn’t see floor space filling up until after he started folding. He smiled and ventured into the kitchen in search of food. Okay, so I’d decided on what movie we were watching - Iron Man 2, I’d picked the part where I was going to use as an opening, and I even kind of had a script to follow with what I wanted to say. Those very rarely lasted long in the real conversation, but I felt better walking in there with one. I was as prepared as I was going to get, nothing left but to get it over with. Again I wondered how much worse this would be without a bolt hole, it was disturbing to think about. Not to mention the part where I kept getting all of the kind of guilt for even feeling like I needed a plan to begin with. Which could be considered worse I don’t know. Getting through this just fine after having worried and plotted so much, or if there really was a reason we were being this cautious. Dealer’s choice I supposed. All the same, I was definitely dragging in a great big fluffy blanket for this.