Александра Адорнетто - Halo

“First stop, makeup,” Molly said in her best commando voice. She stuck her head between the two front seats. “Let’s roll!”

We drove down to Main Street and pulled up in front of Swan Aesthetics, one of the two local beauticians. The shop smelled of vanilla, and mirrors lined the walls along with displays of the latest beauty products. The owners had opted for a bohemian, back-to-nature feel, and there were beads hanging from the doorways, incense burning in little jeweled holders, and the calming sounds of a rain forest filtered from hidden speakers. In the waiting room were bright floor cushions and bowls filled with potpourri. Herbal teas were available from urns set on a low table.

The girls who greeted us didn’t look at all in touch with the natural world, with their platinum blond hair, tight T-shirts, and theatrical makeup. Molly seemed to be on very friendly terms with them, and they embraced her warmly when we went in. She introduced them as

Melinda and Mara.

“Tonight’s the night!” they crooned. “Are you pumped or what? Okay, girls, let’s get started so the makeup will have a chance to settle.”

They seated us in high swivel chairs facing a wall of mirrors. I hoped their own makeup wasn’t an indication of how we’d look once they were through with us.

“I want a baby-doll look,” purred Taylah. “Sparkly eye shadow, pale pink lips . . .”

“I want classic sixties Catwoman. Lots of eyeliner and definitely fake lashes,” Hayley announced.

“I want to look soft and smoky,” said Molly.

“I just want to look like I’m not wearing makeup,” I said when it came to my turn.

“Believe me, you don’t need any,” said Melinda, studying my skin.

I listened, trying not to wriggle in my seat, as the girls explained the beauty treatments for the afternoon. To me, it didn’t even sound as though they were speaking English.

“First, we’ll just strip your skin of any impurities, using an herbal mask and mild exfoliant,” explained Mara. “Then pop on a layer of primer, use a formula-one ivory concealer stick to get rid of any spots or blemishes, and then apply base foundation with either a yellow or pink tone to match your own coloring. Then we’ll talk blush, eyeshadow, lashes, and gloss!”

“You don’t seem to have any blemishes or uneven skin tone,” Melinda said to me. “What products are you using?”

“None really,” I said. “I usually just wash my face at night.”

Melinda rolled her eyes.

“Top secret, is it?”

“No, really, I don’t use skin-care products.”

“Whatever, suit yourself.”

“It’s true, Mel,” said Molly. “Beth’s family probably doesn’t even believe in beauty products. They’re kind of like the Amish.”

“I guess reading the Good Book works miracles on your skin,” muttered Melinda.

Although Melinda didn’t seem to warm to me, I had to admit she knew what she was doing when it came to makeup. When she showed me the finished result in the mirror, I was rendered speechless. For the first time there was color in my face and my cheeks glowed a pale rosy pink. My lips looked full and red, if a little too glossy. My eyes were huge and bright, framed by long delicate lashes, the lids dusted with a fine silver shimmer and the rims outlined by a thin black line. I looked so glamorous I almost didn’t recognize myself. The best part was that I still looked like me. Molly and the others had such thick layers of powder and bronzer, they might have been wearing masks.

From Swan Aesthetics the others went straight to the hairdresser, but I decided to go home and let Ivy deal with the issue of my hair. I was already weary from the first ordeal and didn’t think I could sit through any more grooming rituals. Besides, there was no one I trusted more than Ivy to get it right.

By the time I got home, Gabriel and Ivy were already dressed and ready. Gabriel was sitting at the kitchen table wearing a tux. His blond hair was slicked back, making him look like a cross between dreamy Hollywood actor and eighteenth-century gentleman. Ivy was standing at the sink washing up in a long, emerald-colored gown. Her flowing hair was loosely coiled in a knot at the nape of her neck. It was incongruous to see her looking more like a mirage than a human being, and wearing a pair of pink rubber gloves. It just went to show how little she cared about physical beauty. She waved at me when I came in, still holding her sponge.

“You look beautiful,” she said. “Shall we go upstairs and get that hair done?”

Ivy helped me into my gown first, smoothing and arranging the fabric so that it sat perfectly. In the dress I resembled a column of shimmering moonlight. My delicate silver slippers peeped out from beneath spools of fabric. My delight showed on my face.

“I’m glad you like it.” My sister beamed. “I know things haven’t gone exactly as you might have liked for tonight. But I still want you to look dazzling and have the time of your life.”

“You’re the best sister anyone could hope for,” I said and hugged her.

“Well, let’s not be hasty.” She laughed. “First, we’d better see what I can do with your hair.”

“Nothing complicated,” I said as she began to free it and shake it loose. “I just want it to . . . reflect me.”

“Don’t worry.” She patted my head reassuringly. “I know exactly what you mean.”

It didn’t take Ivy’s nimble fingers long to fashion my hair perfectly. It fell in natural waves, and she took two sections from the sides and wound them into braids that joined across the top of my head like a band. The rest she allowed to fall gently down my back. She laced the braids with a string of tiny pearls that complemented my dress wonderfully.

“It’s perfect,” I said. “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

At six o’clock Xavier arrived to see me in my dress so we could pretend, at least for a little while, that our perfect evening hadn’t been ruined by one ill-timed tackle. I heard him downstairs chatting to Gabriel and instantly felt an armada of butterflies spring up in my stomach. I didn’t know why I was so nervous when being around Xavier usually felt as easy as breathing. I suppose I just wanted to impress him, to reassure myself that he loved me by the look on his face when I came down the stairs.

Ivy squirted me with an atomizer, took my hand, and walked with me to the top of the stairs.

“Will you go first?” I asked, swallowing apprehensively.

“Of course,” she smiled. “But I don’t think it’s me he wants to see.”

I watched Ivy descend gracefully and wondered why I had asked her to go first. Nobody could look elegant next to her—it was an impossible task, and I might as well have conceded defeat immediately. I heard Xavier applaud softly and make complimentary remarks. I knew that Gabriel would have been waiting at the bottom to take her arm. Now it was my turn and my family waited expectantly at the foot of the stairs.

“Coming down, Bethany?” I heard Gabriel ask.

I drew a deep breath and began my shaky descent. What if Xavier didn’t like the dress?

What if I stumbled? What if he saw me and realized that I didn’t measure up to the girl he had created in his mind? The thoughts rushed through my brain like small bolts of lightning, but as soon as I rounded the curve in the stairs and saw Xavier standing below, all of my worries and inhibitions slipped away like flour in the wind. His face was turned upward, alight with anticipation. His eyes widened into two vivid pools when he saw me, and his mouth opened slightly in surprise. He was resting against the banister, his left ankle in a brace. He looked dazed, and I wondered if it was me that inspired such a reaction, or just the concussion.