"Miss Van Doren," the sales clerk acknowledges Tara as we enter yet another boutique. Tara's three-inch nude heels click on the polished floor. She smiles at the employee and looks at me, silently prompting me to follow her.

I do. We stop by the shelves where purses are. The expensive leather seems to glisten under the store lights. Tara inspects each purse and settles on a small, black one.

"This one is perfect for you," she says, extending it to me.

I love it, but my eyes bulge at the price I managed to read on the tag that was carefully hidden in one of the side pouches. 

"Tara, there's no way I can pay."

Tara laughs. "You won't pay. I have a gift card I haven't used. I don't need anything, so let's pick something up for you."

"I don't know…"

Tara rolls her blue eyes at me. "Listen to me. Money. Is. Not. An. Issue. You're my roommate and my friend, and we're on a makeover mission. Let me do my job."
 
I give in and watch Tara hand the card and the purse to the clerk. Five minutes later, the shopping bag with my first designer purse is in my hands.

It took us several days to be able to go shopping. Before leaving the apartment, Tara had studied the contents of my closet. After furrowing her brow and shaking her head, she said that what I wore didn't do my body justice. According to the blond girl walking next to me with her back straight and her head held high, clothes are meant to bring out the best in us.

My old, shapeless ones never did. If anything, they made me look even more miserable and poor. What I bought with Tara's help is different. Almost everything is form-fitting. There are three dresses and two skirts, as well as some tops that show off my cleavage. The Leah I saw in the fitting room mirror was the girl I would like to befriend. She looked more confident and adult, and her eyes shone. I tucked that image in one of the corners of my memory to retrieve it when my confidence faltered.

"So, are we going to that party?" Tara asks me as we stroll to the parking lot where she left her red Maserati. My knowledge of car brands used to be non-existent, but since Tara and I became friends, I've learned a fair share of names.

"I want to. I've been studying too much."

Tara approaches the convertible and tosses the shopping bags onto the back seat. I do the same before getting in the car and buckling up my seat belt.

Tara is an expert driver. She doesn't speed up too much — perhaps for my sake — and knows all the shortcuts, which allows us to arrive home in less than half an hour. 

Once we’re there, I take the new clothes out of their bags and hang them in my built-in closet. What I choose to wear to the party at the frat house is a short black dress. I try it on and head to the living room, where Tara is painting her nails.

"What do you think?" I ask.

Tara gives me a once-over and grins. "That's the one. Take my Louboutins. The red ones."

I smooth out the front of the mini dress and look down on my feet. "Do you think that's 
necessary?"

"Absolutely. Those long legs of yours are meant to be shown off. We will go shoe-shopping next time so that you can have your own pair."

I open my mouth to reply, but the doorbell rings, and I rush to the hallway.

Nash is standing outside the apartment.

"Wow," he says as soon as the front door opens, and he catches a glimpse of me in my new outfit.

I giggle and kiss his cheek, stepping aside to let him in. Nash follows me inside.

"Hey!" he says to Tara. 

Tara smiles brightly and gives him a small wave. "How's it going?"

"Good. How was your shopping afternoon?" Nash asks, sitting on the couch next to my roommate.

"Productive." I flop down on Nash's lap, and he kisses my shoulder, wrapping his arms around my waist. 

"I wish I could go to the party with you," he mumbles with his lips pressed to my skin.

"Me too. It sucks that you have to work tonight of all nights."

"They will pay well," says Nash. "Besides—"

Once again, the doorbell interrupts us.

"I'll get it. My right one isn't done yet," Tara says, hopping off the couch and waving a hand in the air.

I hear Annie's voice as she greets Tara. Then, she barges into the room. Her eyes widen when she sees Nash and me.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

Annie gives me a nervous half-smile. "Wrong? Everything is great. Dang, I didn't know you were busy. I called you a couple of times."

"Her battery died," Tara says instead of me. "The girl never charges her phone."

Nash chuckles. "True. I should have given you a charger for your birthday."

"I have three." I smile before turning my attention to Annie. She looks fidgety. There's too much hair touching and clothes straightening going on. It's suspicious, but it's clear that whatever it is, she won't say it in front of others. Pregnancy or engagement are the first two things that cross my mind. Now that Mackenzie is home again, they are happier than ever.

"Tara and I went shopping. Do you want to see what we bought?" I ask Annie. If she needs us to be alone, it would be a perfect chance to talk without raising suspicions or asking Nash to leave. 

Her eyes dart from me to Tara and then land on Nash. She chews on her bottom lip and pulls her phone out of her jacket pocket. "Dang, it's late," Annie says, glancing at the screen. "How about I stop by tomorrow morning, and you show me everything? I just wanted to say hi before going to class."

"Okay. Are you sure you don't want to have a cup of coffee or something?" I ask, giving Annie another chance to tell me whatever it is that makes her so nervous, but she smiles and pecks my cheek. Then, she waves goodbye to Nash and Tara and leaves our place.

"That was fast." Tara lifts her hand and inspects the polish on her nails. Satisfied with the result, she goes on to apply the topcoat.

"I'll be going, too," says Nash. He kisses me on the lips softly, and I slide off his lap so that he can get up.

"Have fun tonight," Nash tells us. "But not too much," he adds, kissing my cheek close to my ear before he leaves.

"He's so sweet," Tara says, smiling. Nash must have said the last part louder than I realized. "And Annie was so weird."

"You noticed?"

"Noticed? That was like seeing a guy wear socks with flip flops. By the way, never, and I mean never date a man who does that."

"Noted." I giggle, twirling in front of Tara once again. She gives me a thumbs up and shouts "Louboutins!" as I rush to my room to get ready.

***

According to Tara, you can’t call yourself a college student if you haven’t been to a college party. Since my classes started, I’ve been to quite a few, but never at the frat house. 

It’s my roommate’s second year at college. She’s still deciding what her major is going to be. Tara is taking all kinds of classes — from Art to Psychology to Math. She also knows all kinds of people— Tara greets and smiles at someone every couple of seconds on our way to the house. Guys and girls stare at us as we stroll down the tree-lined driveway, and I blame it on the high-heeled shoes I am not used to wearing.

“That jock over there is Drew Evans,” Tara whispers and nods her chin toward a strong, tall guy to our right. “He’s a great friend. Having him in your corner wouldn’t hurt. I'll introduce you to him later.”

I nod, raking my eyes over the clusters of girls and guys. There are too many new faces. Psych students are the ones I’m used to seeing, but I know nobody here.

“Relax and enjoy it,” Tara says, nudging my shoulder with hers. We make our way into the frat house. My eyes water when I inhale the cigarette smoke that permeates the already stale air. I never minded it when Brian smoked, but it was different. His taste and smell were different.

I give myself a mental smack on my head. Why is he even on my mind?

“Be careful with what you drink,” Tara says as we push past the group of girls in almost matching mini skirts and crop tops to get to the kitchen. “If the guys have some Jack, that is much better than drinking whatever crap they mix for the girls.”

“Noted.” I smile. Tara’s rules aren’t different from Brian’s. Another party materializes in my annoyingly nostalgic brain — me in Brian’s arms, kissing him in the dimly lit room as we sway to the slow song Lenny played for us. Brian and I on the roof of his dad’s garage, doing tequila shots. Us in Brian’s room, ripping the clothes off each other. His fingers…

“This one is good.” Tara thrusts a red cup in my hand and then laces her fingers through mine and leads me out of the kitchen.

The music is deafening in the living room. The rap song makes the walls of the stately house vibrate. 

“Oh, my God! The song is perfect,” Tara lets out a little squeal. “And The Nerd is here. See him over there? Here, hold my drink.”

Two cups, not one, are in my hands now. Mesmerized, I watch Tara stroll to the center of the room. The few dancing girls make space for her. Soon, everyone watches Tara move. She’s the prettiest of all the girls I’ve seen at the party so far, and her dance moves are something else. She has no shame and not an ounce of self-consciousness.

My eyes flitter away from Tara and look for The Nerd. It could be whoever, but I notice a handsome guy leaning against one of the walls. His toned arms are folded in front of his chest. A dark-haired girl wearing too-big glasses is by his side. She’s doing everything she can to have the guy’s attention, but he’s looking at Tara with his lips curled up into a smirk. I chuckle to myself. He’s far from being a nerd. I have to keep on looking.

Another familiar figure makes his way through the throng of students. It’s Evans. He’s talking to someone, motioning to his surroundings as if he was giving the person a tour of the place.

The song changes to another one. It’s more sensual, and Tara is still dancing. Some girls join her this time. Tara waves at me, but I shake my head and raise my cup to show her I’m good where I am. 

People-watching is fun. Evans is standing next to the handsome guy now. The nerdy girl is still there, just as invisible to the guy by her side as she was before.

I take a sip of Jack from my cup and spot another tall guy next to the wall. He faces away from me. Evans makes the same gesture with his arm, and when the guy turns around, I cough, spilling the drink onto my new dress.

It cannot be him.

My heart jumps in my ribcage. I press a palm to my chest, but my heartbeat is just as frantic.

Brian. It’s Brian. 

He’s thinner. He’s so much thinner, and his hair is styled in a different way. It’s just as dark, but a bit longer. There’s a slight stubble on his chiseled jaw. He smiles widely at Evans, achingly handsome in his dark jeans and a black shirt. With my heart in my throat now, I watch him take a sip from his cup.

As if feeling my stare on him, Brian slowly turns his head, and his eyes meet mine.

I freeze, and so does he. The air is sucked out of the room. I hear sounds, but they seem distant. Everything blurs and fades into nothingness.

He’s the first one to move toward me. He pushes past the crowd of dancing girls and shortens the distance between us.

We’re standing face to face for the first time in almost a year.

“Ki-”

“Don’t,” I choke out and shake my head. 

Brian’s teeth sink into his bottom lip, and he nods. “Outside?”

I rest the cups I’m holding on a random chair next to the wall and follow Brian out of the frat house.

We keep our distance as we circle the stone construction. I am shaking. Goosebumps cover my arms, and I might throw up if I don’t manage to calm down.

I look great. My eyes are smoky, my lips are red, and my hair is straight and shiny.

The girl who’s facing Brian now is the new Leah. She’s more confident. She can walk in her four-inch shoes without falling. She rides a Harley, for God’s sake.

The wind grows stronger and whips my hair around my face. Brian reaches out and moves a loose strand out of my eyes. His eyes are glistening, and it’s not from the street light outside the frat house. 

Brian’s fingers caress my cheek. He smiles, but his jaw is trembling, giving him away. 

He’s different, but still the same. 

Under my new clothes and makeup, so am I.

Predictions? Thoughts?

How would you react?

Sorry if there are typos. I edited fast and might have to go back and do it again later.