Page 30 of Just One Year


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After I told her the story of what I’d overheard, she seemed adamant that there was only one next step.

“If Archie asks you out, you go.”

“But I don’t like him that way. He’s handsome, but—”

“It doesn’t matter whether you actually like him or not. You need to prove Caleb wrong. You are the type of person Archie would want to date.”

The more she spoke, the more worked up I got. I had never cared much about what people thought of me. But for some reason, I cared what Caleb thought. Did he really see me as undateable?

“And who exactly is the type of person Archie would want to date?” I asked.

Kai twirled her long, black hair. “Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps someone who lets her hair down once in a while, someone who doesn’t hide her body. Someone with sex appeal?”

I waved my hand dismissively. “You know that’s not me. That’s not who I am.”

“I’m quite aware of that. But this isn’t about your norm. It’s about stepping out of your comfort zone and proving a point at the same time. Any guy would be lucky to date you. Anyone who says otherwise is a damn fool.”***Kai had gotten me all riled up. I’d never admitted the true reason for hiding my sexuality to her. She didn’t know how deeply rooted my issues were and how hard I’d always tried not to resemble my birth mother who abandoned me.

It wasn’t that I didn’t want to experiment with my sexuality. Even though nothing was going on between Caleb and me, just having him around made me feel more connected to my feminine side—the sexual side. His presence meant there was a sexual energy in my life whether I liked it or not. And I mostly liked it. Okay, I loved it—when I wasn’t pissed at him for potentially insulting me, that is.

Looking in the mirror, I wondered if maybe I could play around a bit. I took down my hair and brushed through it. It was very thick—long and straight, light brown with natural blond highlights. I could probably count on my hands the number of times I’d worn it down since the age of about fifteen.

And there was nothing in my wardrobe that could be considered sexy or revealing. That was intentional—though some items were more appealing than others. My typical garb consisted of roomy T-shirts, jeans, and Chucks. I grabbed one of the few fitted shirts I owned before slipping off my T-shirt and changing. The ample breasts I tried so hard to hide were now completely outlined by the thin, clingy fabric. Changing out of my jeans, I replaced them with a pair of black, curve-hugging leggings. Kicking off my sneakers, I put on a pair of black ballet flats Maura had bought me one Christmas, probably hoping I’d take the hint. But alas, the box had never even been opened up until now.

Looking at myself in the mirror, I tilted my head. “Well, whaddya know? She does clean up nice.”

Remembering that I had some old makeup in my bathroom, I went in and opened the drawer, feeling clueless. What to do. What to do. After a moment I realized I didn’t know how to apply eyeliner. So, I turned on one of those YouTube tutorials and watched a girl who had over two million views apply her eye makeup until I felt confident enough to try her technique. It took about twenty minutes and some trial and error, but my eyes were now fully lined and my lips plumped up with a mauve color. The finishing touch was a little rouge on my cheeks. Initially, I put on too much and had to wipe some of it off. By the time I finished, I’d managed to achieve the thing I’d always tried to avoid: I looked even more like Ariadne.

Having second thoughts, I hesitated before heading upstairs for Sunday dinner. But it wasn’t going to get any easier, so I gave myself a mental nudge and made my way up the stairs.

When I entered the dining room, every head turned in my direction. Time seemed to stand still as they took me in. Was it that drastic?

My father looked stunned, probably to see the spitting image of the woman who’d broken his heart. Maura looked almost proud, like she was saying to herself finally. Shelley looked envious, and I assumed she’d be ransacking my room as soon as possible, looking for the makeup. And Archie and Caleb? Well, let’s just say if there were a competition for jaw dropping, I’m not sure which guy would have won.CHAPTER TWELVE* * *CALEBChrist.

What had she done to herself?

Her eyes, her lips, her breasts—everything was magnified. She looked different, but absolutely beautiful. I’d always recognized Teagan’s natural beauty, though, even when she tried her hardest to hide it. But now she was flaunting it. And I didn’t know what to make of that, except that I suspected it had something to do with Archie. That angered me for so many reasons.

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