Rachel Finishes Her Work

I don't say anything. I can't bring myself to say a single word. I just stare, transfixed, at the sight in front of me.

"It's a first pass," Rachel explains nervously, "And I mean our complexions aren't quite the same and I didn't have anything that really worked too well with what you're wearing. If we were back in my dorm room with all of my stuff I could really do a much better job. I swear."

Babbling, frankly, until quietly she asks me, "Why aren't you saying anything?"

"I just..." I stammer, "I didn't know that I could look like this."

It is, first of all, entirely subtle. So subtle in fact that in an instant I get what she meant when she said that when people think of no makeup or natural looks, they really don't know what the fuck they're talking about.

This is what they're talking about.

If I squinted and looked real close I could make things out. I could see the subtle eyeliner and blush and lipstick. I could see the little blemishes on my skin smoothed out and the way my eyelashes were emphasized by something making them just a little bit longer.

But the truth was that I had to really look for it. And the truth was that even if I knew that it was there, it was difficult to tell.

Nothing in my features was changed, exactly, just emphasized. All the best attributes of me were drawn out and brought to the surface and then had a spotlight shone on them. And at the same time all of my worst features just smoothed over, not hidden but deemphasized somehow.

And the whole effect just had me looking like an enhanced version of myself. My eyes a little brighter and my lips a little pinker. My cheeks a little rosy and my nose a little more buttony. My cuteness undeniable as my lips cracked into a smile and my eyes sparkled with delight.

"I look amazing," I say, breathless, "I don't know how you did that."

"Oh, you like it?" Rachel asks me, her heart soaring and a reddening blush coming into her cheeks as she takes the compliment while she busies herself putting her tools away.

"You're seriously talented," I go on, and she just shrugs.

"I did the best with what I had but you should see what I can do if I have everything with me. One of these days I'm going to have to give you a full makeover girlie, head to toe. You'll be so drop-dead stunning you won't even recognize yourself."

"You mean it?" I ask her, "You'd do that for me."

"Sure!" she exclaims, "It'll be fun. We'll make a sleepover of it. Your place, not mine though."

Biting my bottom lip I turn to face her, "I really appreciate it."

Rachel pauses and turns to look at me, a curious expression crossing her face for an instant before realization dawns.

"You've never had this before, have you?"

"I grew up in the country," I stammered, "And I mean there were girls that were into makeup and stuff but they weren't... They wouldn't... We weren't close."

Rachel doesn't have to be told. She doesn't need the full story to understand the bullying and the distancing and the cruelty that kids can put down and while I doubt she engaged in much of that herself, because frankly she didn't seem the type, there was something more than that which set her apart from them.

Her reaction.

"Fucking jealous bitches," she cracks, a broad smile crossing her face, "But you don't have to worry about them any more sweet cheeks. You've got me now, and we're going to be the best of friends together. I'm gonna show you how to do your makeup. I'm gonna teach you how to make boys drool. By the time I'm done with you you're gonna be an absolute heartbreaker and you're going to be the envy of every last girl on campus and you know why?"

I shook my head. I didn't.

"Because," she said, locking her arm in mine and turning me to look in the mirror right next to her, "Together, my dear, we will be unstoppable."

For a limited time you can join my Patreon for only $2 and get access to over a month's worth of new pages of My Second Chance as well as SEVEN FULL STORIES with a new one every month! Join here: https://www.patreon.com/SophiePert