I sat up, excited at the thought of eating something. I’d forgotten to eat at my house before I came here and my stomach was rumbling. I really should have grabbed one of my mom’s muffins.
“No thanks,” Madison said. “We’re fine. Go away!”
My shoulders drooped and I sat back on the pouf. I guess food wasn’t a big priority at this house. I hoped she wouldn’t hear my stomach.
“You know what I noticed?” Madison asked as she sat up straight.
“No, what?” I answered.
“Your eye makeup looked really cool the day of my party,” she said.
“Oh, that was mostly tape,” I answered.
“Tape?”
“Yeah, like special eye tape they make in Korea,” I said.
“You looked really good with it. You should think about wearing it to school more,” she told me. “Korea has such an amazing fashion scene, you know.”
“Oh thanks. I saw a bunch of Korean magazines in the salon and the style is so different, isn’t it?” I tried my best to make “small talk.” I admit it wasn’t easy for me. Like when was the last time I talked to Jason about fashion? Never. I suddenly wondered if she was going to ask me if I wanted to put makeup on with her, but luckily, she pulled out some magazines instead.
“Look at these!” She happened to have some Korean magazines, which surprised me. “Of course I can’t read any of these, but I like to look at the pictures. Can you read any of it?”
“No, not a single word. My parents don’t even read or speak Korean.”
We flipped through the pages and talked about what we saw—that dress looks nice, or that hairstyle looks weird, that kind of stuff—until Arden and Emma came. Time passed more quickly than I expected. I realized that with Jason, we did active things together, but with these girls, I was sitting around talking about stuff. Lounging around and gossiping. It was all new to me.
The girls had a lot to talk about so I hoped it wasn’t obvious that I was just listening and not actually joining the conversation most of the time. We laughed a lot because Arden has this very dramatic streak and likes to tell stories. Maybe I misjudged the girls. I always assumed that they were kind of mean and snobby, but when you spent time with them, they were pretty nice.
When it was time to go home, my mom picked me up.
When I got into the car she said, “Did you have a good time?”
“Yeah, I did,” I replied, and my mom looked surprised.
“Oh.” She paused. “Well, I guess that’s great!” She sounded a little too happy to be real. She wasn’t normally that perky.
We drove home the rest of the way in silence, which was good, because I had a bit of a headache. Those girls could sure talk a lot and I wasn’t used to it. I was so hungry that when I came home to the smell of chicken souvlaki, I think I literally drooled.
“I left a plate for you in the oven,” my mom said. “Tori and I ate just before I came to pick you up, and your dad’s not home yet.”
I sat down with my mom at the table and started eating.
“Hungry?” she asked, almost laughing. “I’ve never seen you eat so quickly!”
“Yes,” I said with a mouthful of chicken. “Madison and her family don’t seem to eat.”
“Well, every family has a different way of doing things,” my mom said. She got up and squeezed my shoulder.
After I ate, I went upstairs because I wanted to lie down. I noticed that Tori had left a big bag full of clothes in my room.
“Tori!” I yelled. “What’s this bag doing here?”
She popped her head into my room. “I’ve cleaned out my closet. Keep what you want and I’ll get rid of the other stuff.”
I realized that Tori had way nicer clothes than I did. On the top of her pile, designer yoga pants, similar to the ones Madison had on today. Why did I have “practical” clothes and how did Tori get all this nice stuff? I needed to talk to my mother about this situation. It was obviously not fair.
I spent the next hour or so trying on clothes. There were a bunch of clothes in her pile that fit me and that I liked. Tori walked in as I was trying on a plaid shirt. She tilted her head to the side as if she were thinking hard. “That one is okay on you, but you can’t wear your usual jeans,” she stated.
“What’s wrong with my usual jeans?” I asked.
“The leg. Bootcut. Nobody wears bootcut anymore, unless you’re a cowboy. A real cowboy, not a fake Western look. You’re too Korean-looking, you can’t pull off a Western look. You need skinny jeans,” she said as she walked over to the pile of clothes and sorted through them until she found what she was looking for.
“Here.” She held out some jeans. “These are too short for me now, but they should fit you. Try them on.”
I paused.
“What, afraid to let me see your underwear? Geez, fine I’ll turn around,” she said.
I waited for her to physically turn around before I took off my jeans and put on her old pair.
“Can I turn around now?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“See, that’s better,” she said as she looked at me with a critical eye. “But don’t wear your usual running shoes.”
Seemed like nothing I had was right. “What should I wear then?” I asked.
She rummaged through her pile some more. “If you’re going to wear running shoes, at least let them be somewhat cool.” She handed me what I guess she thought were “cool-looking” running shoes. I put those on too. I looked at myself in the mirror. I had to admit my sister had a better sense of fashion than I did.
I decided to wear Tori’s old clothes to school the next day. No point leaving
