Page 55 of Puck Your Friend

They don’t wait for a yes as Brielle pulls me up from my bunk and over to the long mirror on the wall. Tasha takes the brush from my hand. Marcy crouches to go through her makeup bag.

They aren’t acting like they’re my best friends. But it doesn’t feel like a setup either.

Brielle takes all three of their foundations and mixes them together to form a shade close to mine. It’s honestly impressive. “We were dicks to you the last few years.” She holds up the shade to my skin, squints, then adds a drop of Tasha’s darker shade. “You didn’t deserve it. We’re sorry.”

Well, I wasn’t expecting this. I guess we are all getting older. It makes sense that they would mature, too. “I won’t say it was alright. But I’m fine with trying to move forward from here. We’ll probably be stuck together next year, too. So we can be civil.”

Marcy smiles as she and Tasha work on my hair. “That’s fair. We’re trying harder to be better. We had some stuff happen at school this year that made us realize we need to be better people.”

Wow, it must’ve been something big for them to shift like this.

Tasha shakes her head. “We probably won’t become professional cheerleaders like we wanted. All our doctors say we’re showing traits of becoming Omegas. We like the community here, and there’s Alphas, so we’ll keep coming until one of us present. The camp doesn’t allow Omegas, so we’ll have to stop after that.”

My fingers twist under the table. I’m not sure if I should offer my condolences or not, but they don’t seem upset over knowing they might become Omegas. Some people don’t care, or see it as an honor of being rarer than turning Beta.

It’s the last thing I want, so I’m probably the odd one out with not wanting to be one. Not all Omegas hate the societal oppression.

I would suffocate in that type of life.

They work fast, with two of them on my hair and Brielle doing my makeup. She’s gotten so much better at it since we were twelve. In no time, she’s done it all, including applying eyelashes. They’re heavy, but I like how they look.

Tasha slides my hoop earrings in. Her fingers are cooler than I expect. All three of them step back to look me over.

Tasha glances at the other two. “We can work some serious magic. Maybe we should open a styling business.” I try to see around them to the mirror, but they block me.

Marcy wiggles her finger for me to turn around. “Go get your dress on and then you can see.”

I get my dress from its bag and slip into it. They help zip the dress. The fabric catches slightly at my ribs, and Marcy adjusts the seams until it smooths out and zips up with ease.

I turn toward the mirror.

My curls look more relaxed than I’ve ever gotten them to be. I’ll have to ask Tasha what products she used on them. Half are pinned up with the flower clip.

The makeup is bolder than anything I’ve worn before. Smoky blue shadow dusted with glitter. Black liner with a sharp wing lines my lids, and I don’t even know how she managed to make it look that crisp. My lashes look unreal with how full and long they are. My lips are rose-colored, soft but defined. It’d be too much for home, but it’s perfect for tonight.

My dress is deep blue, fitted through the bodice and dusted with sequins that catch the light every time I move. The neckline dips into a clean V that dips low, but not too low. The skirt flares out in soft satin folds that swish when I shift my weight. I hook my thumb in one of the pockets.

The pendant glints against my skin. Even with all the glam, it still feels like the centerpiece.

Tasha eyes it. “That new?”

I nod and touch it, running my fingers over the stones. “Yeah. My friends gave it to me this morning.”

They share a look. Brielle lifts her eyebrow.“Are you sure they’re just friends with you?”

I smile. “We’re something.”

I look beautiful. “Thank you for your help, guys. I wouldn’t have been able to do anything this good on my own. You should totally open a styling business if that’s what you want to do.”

They all grin at each other.

Despite the excitement, I still feel off. My body is trying to tell me something as the headache pounds harder and my stomach cramps a little. Maybe the sandwiches we had for lunch weren’t good. I’m going to push through and ignore it. I’m not going to let it ruin tonight.

A knock on the door fills the cabin.

Marcy goes to answer it.

I hear Jace clear his throat. “We’re here to pick up Frankie.”