Katy stared pointedly at Michelle. “Anna and I had an idea.”
“More of a project,” I explained.
Michelle glanced back and forth between us. “Why do I get the feeling I should be nervous?”
“We want to give you a new look,” Katy said.
“You’re such a pretty girl, Mich,” I added, “but no one can see it under all that hair and those—”
“—ugly clothes. Sorry, but it’s the truth.” Katy never minced words.
She sighed. “I know. My wardrobe is pathetic.”
“So you’ll do it? You’ll let us make you over?” I said.
Michelle paused.
I gyrated. “You can trust us.”
Katy tapped her fingers together like a mad scientist. “You have nothing to lose.”
She relented. “Okay, but don’t make me look like a dork.”
I stole a quick glance at Katy and our eyes met. There was no way that could happen. Michelle was already at the bottom of the fashion food chain.
“You won’t be sorry. I’m so psyched!” Katy jumped up to retrieve the makeup she’d brought.
I fluffed Michelle’s hair. “The first thing we need to tackle is this hair.”
“Nothing can fix this mess,” she said, grabbing her crimson frizzy ends and lifting them up in a giant wad. “Believe me when I tell you I’ve tried.”
Katy pulled out a bottle. “Aha…but not this. It’s a new product, a hair relaxer. It promises to tame even the most unruly hair. Don’t you think you qualify?”
Michelle’s skepticism abounded.
“My mom wouldn’t have given it to me to use if she wasn’t a believer.” Katy’s mother worked in a beauty salon, so we trusted her knowledge implicitly.
Katy applied some petroleum jelly around Michelle’s hairline to protect it, then sectioned her hair, squeezing white creamy goo from the bottle of relaxer throughout each portion. “This stays on your hair for twenty minutes before we can wash and dry it.”
Michelle wrinkled her nose. “It smells bad. You sure it’s legit?”
“Totally,” Katy said with assurance.
“While we wait, let’s take a look at your clothes,” I said.
Michelle trudged into her room after us, sitting on the bed with an ambiguous expression. I opened her closet and ventured in, coming out moments later with an ugly blouse. “I think we can all agree this has to go.”
Katy held up a pilled green sweater. “Grody to the max.”
Michelle’s mouth gaped open. “Hey, I like that sweater!”
I made a face. “It’s gotta go, Mich.”
“Fine.”
Katy and I took turns bringing out the most offensive pieces of her wardrobe and flinging them into a heap near her bed. Next we tackled her chest of drawers, and the “no” pile grew.
“See how this shirt goes great with these jeans?” I displayed the combination, channeling a game show hostess.
She nodded.
Katy grabbed a vest. “This is cute, and you can wear it with jeans, too.”
“And you can pair this pink tube top with this skirt when it warms up again,” I said, placing it back in her dresser.
Michelle stared forlornly at her A-cup breasts. “Even though I don’t have anything to hold it up.”
“They look better with a smaller boobs anyway. Busty girls look ridiculous in tube tops.”
“Oh crap! The relaxer!” Katy exclaimed.
We ran to the bathroom.
Michelle unwrapped the towel from her head and leaned over the sink. Katy shampooed Michelle’s hair twice followed by a deep conditioning. She blew it dry, wielding the round bristled brush like a professional to help straighten the mass.
I held my breath as Katy worked, praying we hadn’t fried her hair.
“Is it okay?” Michelle sounded anxious.
“It looks great so far,” Katy said.
“Thank God.”
Katy’s skills impressed me. “Wow, it’s really straightening out, isn’t it?”
Katy seemed dazzled herself. “This stuff really works.”
“I want to see! Can I see?” Michelle pleaded.
“Not yet.”
When Katy finished, we stood back and admired the final product. Michelle’s hair was stunning—straight for the first time in her life. In place of that uncontrollable kinky frizz lay shiny, smooth tresses. It rendered us speechless.
“What? What is it?”
Katy beamed. “I’m amazed. I knew I was good but not that good.”
I laughed.
Michelle tried to stand but Katy placed a hand on her shoulder. “Wait just a little longer. I want to do your makeup.”
Our pet project sighed with unmasked frustration.
Katy spent another ten minutes on Michelle’s face. Nothing too dramatic, just some black eyeliner, an application of mascara, the faintest hint of peach blush and a coating of lipgloss. The result was even more gorgeous.
“Okay, one more thing,” I yelled over my shoulder. I ran to her room and fetched one of the few cute outfits we had assembled. “Put this on,” I said, breathless, “and no peeking!”
Michelle dressed in the outfit, and we blindfolded her, leading her down the hall and into her bedroom in front of the full-length mirror.
“Ready?” said Katy.
“Ready to kill you.”
Katy pulled off the blindfold and revealed the new Michelle.
“Holy cow!” Her hand stroked her hair, feeling its silkiness. “My hair...”
I smiled. “Look at you.”
Michelle became teary. “You guys, this is unbelievable. Way better than I thought it could turn out. No offense. I love it. Thank you.” She turned and squeezed us together in a tight hug.
Katy quietly admonished her. “Don’t cry. Your mascara will run.”
“Let’s go show your parents,” I said. We ran down the hall into the living room, where we
