Page 7

After my breakdown on Monday, the rest of the week went by uneventfully.

I still couldn't believe Archer of all people was able to help me calm down.

Honestly, I think half the reason why it worked was that I could see how uncomfortable he was.

He obviously did not comfort a lot of hysterical women but the fact that he tried was almost..

. endearing? I guess I had a human moment and for once I forgot about all of the pain Archer caused me—although unknowingly—and just talked.

When I walked away from Archer I was shocked with myself that I had opened up so much.

After the emotionally exhausting morning I had though, I think I was about to burst and needed to get it all out.

I held it together for most of the morning and kept my anxiety attack at bay, but once I got to that tree, I lost it.

I hated it when this happened to me. My chest squeezed and my breath shortened.

I couldn't stop the tears from rolling down my cheeks as I sucked in air and tried to ground myself.

Thankfully, this didn't end up being a bigger attack so I was able to calm my breathing eventually.

I always felt exhausted and sore after, so I had tucked my head into my knees and stayed like that for God knows how long—until Archer found me.

His advice was honestly not bad either. I used it for the rest of the week and it did help in a few classes.

I also was able to see what he was talking about.

I spent a bit more time watching my classmates and there were a lot of nervous faces in the crowd.

More than a few were only able to stutter out a few words when the professors called on them and the profs seemed to be used to it because they just moved on.

I still felt nervous every day when I walked to my classes but it was at least tolerable. In the spirit of pushing myself, I knew I had to at least try. Running back home the first sign of any problems would definitely not help me become more independent.

Now it was Thursday. I finished my last class for the week and when I got home Madeline immediately jumped on me to get ready for the Pep Rally with her.

I hadn't seen her too much over the last few days since we were both settling into new routines.

But whenever I did, she made a concerted effort to bond with me.

She had even come and sat on my bed a couple of times complaining about her profs, or guys she talked to on Tinder.

She never stayed too long but it was nice to have someone to talk to.

I could already tell being friends with Madeline was going to be very different than what I was used to.

Back home, it was always Brit, Kayla, and I—the three musketeers.

They were so loud and outgoing that I often just sat back and listened more than really contributing anything myself.

They had never minded—or noticed—and it worked just fine for me.

But with Madeline, it was just the two of us alone in this dorm.

Don't get me wrong, the girl was pretty long-winded when we were together.

But there would always be a point where she stopped and turned to me to ask my opinion or for advice.

I felt ridiculous giving her my pathetic responses.

I mean, I didn't have nearly as much life experience as Madeline so I didn't know how anything I said would be of value.

Thankfully, Madeline never made me feel bad about it. She listened intently as I spoke, ignored any time I stuttered or lost a word, and then when I was done she would smile like I was a genius and carry on.

I sat on Madeline's bed while she was at her desk doing her makeup.

We had an hour before we needed to leave for the Rally and I wasn't sure what I could do to myself to be any more ready than I was from this morning.

I had showered the night before so my curls ran softly down my back.

I pulled the top half back into a bun and secured it loosely with a scrunchy like usual.

Over the course of the day a lot of pieces fell out, but I liked the wispy way the curls framed my face.

My makeup routine was the same every day—mostly from the fact that I wasn't very skilled with it but also because my mom had always preached to me that less was more.

Living in California meant that sunscreen every day was a must. So I slathered that all over myself every morning.

Then I would put a thin layer of concealer over my trouble spots, some powder on my t-zone, and a couple of coats of mascara.

I usually topped it off with some chapstick and called it a day.

Madeline on the other hand could start a YouTube channel she was so talented with all her brushes and pallets.

She had been sitting at her desk for 20 minutes now as I sat back and watched the transformation.

Obviously, she was a beautiful girl regardless, but then suddenly with small flicks of her hand, she was contoured and highlighted like someone out of a magazine.

"Okay, I don't want to be that friend that offers to 'make you over' because you're some kind of lost cause... cause trust me, girl, you are beautiful regardless. Buuuut if you wanted to do something a little more...fun? I could help you?" Madeline's words made me smile.

I appreciated the sentiment. Kayla always begged for me to let her help me with my hair, makeup, and clothes.

She never outright said that I was hopeless but I did notice she never offered Brit any help.

Thinking about my two best friends made me realize I hadn't spoken to them since I arrived at school.

I made a mental note to set up a Skype date, then I returned my attention to Madeline.

"I mean... if you want to? I really am not very good at makeup but if you think you can help all of this,"-I gestured to my face-"then be my guest."

Madeline looked at me with a thoughtful smile before walking over with a few products.

"There is seriously nothing to help.. makeup isn't supposed to fix you, it's just a fun way to express yourself.

Now, look up at me and I'll just add a bit of colour.

I don't know if you've noticed," she added with a cheeky grin, "but we aren't quite the same shade.

I think I can make it work though—with a light hand. "

Madeline spent no more than five minutes brushing random stuff on my face before she declared me a masterpiece and walked away to get dressed.

I went into the bathroom to take a look and smiled at what I saw.

Madeline had stuck to her word and used a light hand.

A small wash of contour lifted my cheekbones up, and a dusting of pink sat above that.

She had used a light champagne highlighter at the high points of my face which made me look dewy but not like a unicorn.

She topped it all off with a little light brown eyeshadow on my lids that made my eyes look deeper.

I still looked like me, just a me that had visited Sephora more than once in her lifetime.

When I went back into the room Madeline was already dressed.

Any confidence I had from checking myself out dropped away.

She was wearing crisp white booty shorts, deep red ankle boots, and a tight red USC football shirt that all matched her bright red lipstick.

She had perfectly balanced school spirit with fashion.

I bought myself a similar USC shirt earlier in the week but mine didn't perfectly define my curves like her's.

If anything it defined my tummy more than I really cared for.

I paired it with jean cutoff shorts and my white converse that really weren't that white anymore.

I think Madeline must have seen me staring at myself critically because she gave me a chastising look.

"Uh uh! None of that! You look great!"

"Thanks but... I don't know do I look too casual? Or like a kid? Maybe I should wear heels I think I packed one pair somewhere."

"Look if you want to wear heels then hell, wear heels. But don't do it because you think you're supposed to look a certain way. Trust me you look freaking cute. And guys love that girl-next-door thing."

I hummed as I weighed my options. I really didn't want to wear heels... I hated them and after an hour I knew my feet would be hurting. That is if I didn't twist an ankle first.

I appreciated Madeline at that moment much more than I think I could ever tell her.

She had helped me get ready without making me feel inadequate, or like I needed to change everything about myself.

After I let her know that I wasn't going to change we grabbed our purses and head out to the football stadium.

A sea of students dressed in red and gold rushed in the same direction as us. True to her word Madeline snaked her arm through mine and stayed right next to me for the whole walk. We found seats only a few rows back from the field, with me sitting by the isle and Madeline next to me on the inside.

The music pumped through the speakers loudly as people found their seats.

The energy in the stadium was electric and I felt it surge through my veins as people around me shouted and cheered.

A man approached the podium in the middle, calling for everyone to quiet down and I tried to relax.

This was all very over-stimulating, but all I had to do was sit in this seat for the next couple hours and then I could go home. Right?