The Perfect Girl

Changing into a picture perfect girl to match Jake’s tastes was not something I, Kylie Adams, could do alone. Altering myself was scary enough, but doing it on my own and to myself was definitely far too much. It scared me witless. Just the thought of being someone else made me sick to my stomach. But it wasn’t about me anymore; it was about keeping Jake around. And after messing up so many times, I was on the verge of doing just about anything so he wouldn’t draw the line and make us two separate worlds all over again.

Usually, the first person I would think of when in search of a makeover would be Jase. My gay best friend most definitely dominated the fashion world with his exquisite tastes and eye for all things beautiful. But there was just this tingle in the pit of my stomach that told me he was not the one for this job. Something –intuition maybe- told me if I asked Jase for help, all I would get would be a long talk about how I was great the way I was. I didn’t need that. I needed to change.

So instantly my mind jumped to Duke who had a relatively nice sense of style. He definitely had the whole hot and sexy thing going on, and I had figured he could help me get the vibes he gave off. But then it hit me I’d get an even worse reaction from him. Duke would not only give me a long lecture about how I was beautiful the way I was, but he’d start insulting Jake for being too materialistic and then he’d go and he’d flip on Jake. That was in no way good.

Then I thought of Jane, a girl from school who thought of me as one of her close friends. She was cute, she had a string of boys wanting her in every way. Logic finally hit me when I recalled her obsessive crush on Jake. Why would a girl help me look nice for the boy she stalked? That had ‘Bad Idea’ written all over it.

I didn’t stop there. I probably thought and pondered over every single person I knew with even a tinge of style, before realizing there was always something that would go wrong.

Except Farrah. My baby sister may have had a crush on Jake once upon a time, but once he lived with us, it was like everything crashed down on her. She hated how he played guitar in the middle of the night and she hated it even more when he hit the drums at three in the morning, waking everybody up. She hated how he acted and looked in the morning with the yawning constantly, eating breakfast with his mouth open, looking homeless and just overall disgusting etiquette. She hated it and his perfection seemed to fly out of the window for her. In fact, she barely even spared him a single glance.

So it was her lack of interest in Jake that led to me knocking on my sister’s door, preparing to ask her for a makeover –something I never thought I’d do.

The door swung open, revealing a bored Farrah Adams, “Kylie? What do you want?”

I gulped, licked my lips, opened my mouth… and nothing came out. How in the world was I supposed to ask my sister –the one that hated my filthy guts- for help? I could only imagine the mortification of my baby sister telling the school I wanted a makeover. It would be humiliating. I would definitely be dumped then.

“Well?” Farrah persisted, raising her eyebrows and shaking her head subtly. She sighed, leaning back, “Just spit it out, Kylie.”

I bit my lip, “Promise not to tell anyone? Ever? And this stays between the two of us?”

She searched my eyes, her hazel eyes pierced into my brown ones before she grimaced and nodded, “Sure. What’s going on? Did something happen to you?”

Farrah reached out, took my hand and pulled me into her bright white room. She gestured for me to sit on her Vera Bradley printed, quilt sheets. I glanced around her room, gazing at how different it was from the last time I’d gotten a glimpse. Her once zebra printed walls were now a stunning white. Her once hot pink curtains were now the same print as her bedding. Her hot pink fuzzy rug was replaced with a soft, fluffy white rug that took up half of her wooden floor. She still had her same bed set though. It still sat in the same corner of her room and it still went out into a V, multitasking as a bed, sofa, desk and dresser with its slots underneath. Her once girly, diva-like room was a sophisticated, feminine room.

“No,” I said. “I just wanted to ask you for some help.”

Farrah glanced up at me as she curled up on the sofa, “Help? With what?”

My cheeks began to redden. I made a move to get up, “Maybe I should-“

Farrah stood up, holding me back, “No. Tell me.”

I squeezed my eyes tight and settled back into her bed, “I need your help…making me uhm...you know, like, attractive…”

My sister’s face resembled a person who’d just been told their best friend was a three headed dragon. She looked both confused and terrifyingly shocked at the same time. She opened and shut her mouth over a dozen times before she finally spoke, “What?”

I sighed, looking away, “Being pretty. I need you to help me be pretty. To be, you know, hot. Or whatever.”

My pink cheeks burned into a bright red as I blushed. My eyes shot around the room in embarrassment and anxiety as I refused to look at Farrah. I could only imagine the amusement on her face. I’d severely fucked up. Again.

As I sat in Farrah's room, I could only wonder what was running through her head. The idea of altering my appearance just sounded stupid and superficial. But I didn't know what else to do. Jake didn't find me sexy. And I can honestly say just the word had me a blubbering mess. I wasn't out there or very experienced. Hell, I wasn't experienced at all, so obviously I was a little -if not a lot- lost. I didn't know how to make him find me sexy.

He'd called me beautiful, but what if he hadn't meant it? Tons of guys lie so they don't mess up. What if that was Jake's lie? I was naive and I was well aware of it. Dating and relationships weren't my forte and they had never been. I didn't have the simplest idea as to what to do in situations like the one I was in. It wasn't like I was trained how to make myself sexy in case my boyfriend didn't find me so. I didn't even know how to detect a lie from a boyfriend. I was clearly a lost cause. Naive, inexperienced and completely hopeless.

“What?” She repeated, her tone leaning more towards disbelief than confusion. “Why would you need my help?”

“Well, if you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly some hottie that has all the boys coming in. In fact, I resemble a guy more than a girl, Farrah,” I murmured and let my hair fall to hide my humiliation.

“Kylie. Who the Hell said you weren’t pretty? You go up to them and you tell them that you’re dating Jake. They’ll shut up right away, I promise,” Farrah demanded, standing up and crossing her arms.

I cleared my throat, "It's not really about being pretty. It's more along the lines of sexy." I blushed crimson as I stared at the wall behind her. Dear God, I was such a prude.

She fell silent, "Kylie. Are you asking me to help you be sexy?"

I huffed a sigh, flushing a dark red, "Can you not say that word? Let's use the word attractive. I want to be attractive."

She raised an eyebrow, amused, "Either way. Just tell them that you're with Jake. I mean, if Jake likes you, then you sure as Hell must be something."

I rolled my eyes again, “I can’t do that.”

Farrah scoffed, “Kylie. If they don’t listen just sock them in the face. You’re the toughest girl at school!”

I winced. Yeah. I was the toughest. Not the most "attractive". Or the funniest. Or the cutest. Or the nicest. I was the toughest. Great title to hold. I wanted to stuff my face into one of Farrah’s floral pillows and scream.

“Farrah. I can’t do that,” I began and took a breath. “I can’t do that because Jake said it.”

Farrah froze and turned on her heel, looking at me straight in the eye. Her face in pure disbelief as she squeaked, “What?”

I looked away, embarrassed. My own boyfriend thought I wasn't appealing. Obviously it was pitiful. “That’s why I need your help. I'm not trying to seduce him or anything, okay? Just to clear that up. I just feel stupid because he was all over Natalie and he called her hot and sexy practically every second of every day. And he was obviously attracted to her. But I'm his... you know... and he doesn't see me that way at all. What if he thinks of me as too much of a bore and just dumps me for Natalie? I know I shouldn't feel so insecure, but it's Jake. You know?”

Farrah’s face drew up into an angry scowl as she turned to the door, “I’m going to kill the son of a bitch. How can he say that-“

I stood up, grabbing her arm. “Stop. Just. Please help me? I know we aren’t exactly the best of friends or whatever, but I really need your help.”

Farrah’s reaction was puzzling. She should’ve been laughing instead of wanting to kill Jake. But she wasn’t. She was angry and completely not amused. She was frustrated even. All of it confused me tremendously. This was my rude little sister who was known to have disliked me for most of her life and here she was on my side. It was weird and nice at the same time. I didn't know whether to feel uncomfortable or to treasure it.

She sat down beside me, “Do you hear yourself? I know what you mean about us not being so close, but Jesus, Kylie. I’m still your sister. Even if I don’t agree with most of what you do, I don’t want you to turn into somebody else. That's just…That's not how family works.”

I scoffed, “Just help me. I just want Jake to see me and react the same way he reacted with Natalie. I just need to be reassured that it's me he wants. It’s pathetic, but-“

“It’s not pathetic. It’s understandable. I mean, what kind of guy tells his own girlfriend she’s not sexy? Especially when he's known to think everything that moves is sexy. What an asshole,” Farrah mumbled as she cut me off. She glanced up, “Fine. You know what? I will help you. We’re going to show him just how sexy my big sister is.”

---

“Kylie, hurry up! I'm leaving in five minutes!”

I turned to Farrah in wide eyes before whispering, "Shit! What the fuck do I do?"

Farrah rolled her eyes, answering, "You're changing, not having an affair. Just tell him. All that's different is that I'm here to make you look sexy enough to break necks."

I refrained from rolling my eyes, before hollering so Jake could hear, "Go ahead to school! I'm going with Farrah today!"

The knocking stopped as Jake answered, "Since when do you even associate yourself with Farrah?"

Farrah gasped and gave me an offended look as I returned a pointed one, silently commanding for her to remain silent, "Since now. So go! I'll see you at school!" I could hear the faint noise of Jake sighing before his footsteps echoed the hallway. When I was sure he was gone, I turned back to Farrah. "So what now?"

She smiled, grabbing three shirts still hung on hangers and two pairs of pants -one being short shorts and the other being shredded skinny jeans. "First, go put on the shorts and this shirt," she handed me one of the hangers and shooed me off into my restroom, "and then you're going to come back out and we'll tweak things a bit until it's perfect."

I stumbled in my restroom, holding the shirt and the shorts. I shed my pajama pants and replaced them with the shorts. The shorts lived up to their name, covering only the majority of my butt and my crotch. My thighs were completely bare, and I can honestly say I felt naked. Ignoring the discomfort, I changed into the shirt which was just a striped v-neck with sleeves that reached my forearms. The shirt was excessively loose and I felt drowned in it. I frowned as I looked in the mirror, but left the restroom to face Farrah nonetheless.

As I stepped out Farrah turned and looked. Her eyes knit together as she analyzed the outfit and shook her head, "Change into this shirt."

She tossed another shirt at me, and I sighed, stumbling back inside. I switched the striped one for the new one which was simply a grey racer tank top. It was sleeveless and loose. I looked less like a dwarf, but I still felt bare. I reluctantly left the restroom, rubbing my bare arms.

As I reentered the room, Farrah turned to look at me before smiling, "That's it. That's the perfect Monday outfit. You look hot enough to make all the boys melt."

I rolled my eyes, "I feel naked."

She grinned, "Yeah. You get use to that."

I didn't know whether or not to take it as a good thing or a bad thing, so I simply shrugged and slipped on my grey Toms.

"Whatever you say, Farrah. Whatever you say."

---

“Looking good, Adams!”

My blushed darkened from its already crimson red to a deep, bloody shade as I shut my locker. Class hadn’t even begun, but my blush had already soared. From the moment I step foot on school property, I’d gotten embarrassing cat calls and vulgar comments left and right. At first, I simply ignored them while Farrah shamelessly flirted. But once she left me on my own, I couldn’t even speak up; the humiliation seemed to overtake every function in my body except the ability to move. I’d scuttled from spot to spot like a tiny little mouse from the first compliment to now. I felt like a zoo animal.

I turned away from my locker, intending to go to class early and avoid any further staring. I glanced behind me, over my shoulder to see who’d given me my most recent ‘compliment’ only to run straight into another person. As gasp escaped my lips as I murmured a line of apologies and gathered my books. I reached for my calculus book, but another hand beat me to it. I didn’t need to look up to know who it belonged to.

“Jake,” I smiled and looked up.

To say I expected to see the frustrated look on Jake’s face would be a lie. But there it was, the frown, the wrinkles between his eyebrows and the lines on his forehead all distinctly showing exasperation. My smile immediately fell and I pushed myself back up onto my feet.

As I stood up, a voice from behind hollered, “You can get back on your knees in front of me, Kylie! Anytime, baby!”

My face grew hot as I stared at the floor. Jake didn’t seem to want to let the remark go without say as he hooked onto my arm, yanking me into his arms as he yelled back, “Shut the fuck up, Ian!”

I squirmed out of his embrace, embarrassed, as Jake’s demand echoed the hallway. Jake glanced at me, a foreign emotion swimming in his eyes. I stared back, confused. Surely he wasn’t worked up over just one rude comment? Getting angry over a cheeky comment seemed much too trivial for Jake to get worked up over. It just didn’t sound right.

Jake grabbed my hand, intertwining our fingers as he dragged me behind him before pulling me into the empty Band room. I stumbled after him before I planted my feet to the floor, “What the fuck are you doing?”

He glanced at me, rolling his eyes as he dropped our locked fingers. He remained silent though, as if he thought I knew what was going on. As if it were obvious. And it probably would’ve been obvious too if I were Natalie, but I was Kylie and I was naïve and particularly inexperienced so relationship intuition be damned.

“You shouldn’t have yelled at Ian. People are going to start talking, and you know how that is,” I murmured, changing the topic due to the fact I hadn’t an idea what he was angry about.

He scoffed, “Well at least they’ll be saying better things than telling you to get on your knees, Kylie.”

So he was angry over something so trivial. I had overestimated him. I rolled my eyes, “They’re all stupid. I don’t care what they say.”

“Well I care. So I’ll care for the both of us. I’m not going to just stand there and watch a bunch of assholes eye fuck my girlfriend. I’d rather have a hundred needles stab me in the eyes,” Jake said, leaning onto a piano.

I looked away as I blurted, “Well at least someone sees me that way.”

Jake didn’t hesitate to speak, “What the fuck are you talking about?”

I blushed, staring at the wall, “I don’t know what you want from me. You don’t think I look sexy- er, nice in what I usually wear and you think I look bad in this shit,” I fingered the hem of the shirt before continuing, “It’s like no matter what I do I’m never going to be good enough; no matter what I do I’ll never be what you like. I know we’re dating or whatever and I shouldn’t worry or something, but it would be nice to know my boyfriend’s at least attracted to me.”

I didn’t dare look at him. I was terrified of what his reaction would be. I was afraid I’d look and he’d laugh at me and declare the entire ‘dating’ as a huge prank. I was terrified I’d look and he’d be looking at me in disgust, as though asking for him to like the way I looked was the worst thing I’d ever asked him to do; as though it was sickening. But I wasn’t insane was I? Wouldn’t any girl want to feel sexy around her boyfriend? Wouldn’t every girl want to feel good and special around their boyfriend? That was all I wanted. I’d stood by his side as his rival for so long. I’d meant nothing to him for so long and when he finally said I meant something, I still felt like nothing. I just wanted to feel like he wanted me. I still felt less significant than other girls. I just didn’t want him to leave. Was that so wrong?

I squeezed my eyes tight, willing myself to just spare him one glance. And if it was bad, I’d leave and I’d jump off a building from embarrassment. If not, then I’d stick around awhile longer. I took a deep breath and opened my eyes, catching a glimpse of him. His eyebrows were knitted together and his eyes were narrowed. He had a frown on his lips again, and overall he just looked confused. Confused? Was that good? Or bad?

“What are you talking about? Since when did I ever ask you to change?” He inquired, confusion lacing every syllable.

I looked away again, “Technically, you didn’t ask me to. But you implied it. You know, in my room. After we had that fight about Scott? You- you said…”

I trailed off, hiding my blush behind my hair. He chuckled, “When I said you weren’t hot?” My blush darkened. I didn’t answer. I only looked at the wall and wished to be elsewhere before he continued, “I wasn’t asking for you to change yourself. Damn, Kylie. I didn’t mean it in that way. I just can’t objectify you that way. I see tons of girls, all the time, who I think of like tissues. Like once I’ve used them, I never would again. And I can’t do that to you, because you’re better than that. But that doesn’t mean I don’t like the way you look!”

He came forward, holding my face in his hands. I looked around the room before my eyes fell upon his. He smiled down at me, kissing my forehead, “You are the most beautiful,” a kiss to my left cheek, “funniest,“ to my right cheek, “most caring,” to my nose, “ girl I’ve ever met. And I love you.” He finally laid a kiss on my lips. My cheeks heated even further, but I didn’t hesitate to kiss him back. He pulled away, pecked my lips once more before smiling again, “I love you so much. And honestly, I hate what you’re wearing because all those guys keep looking. I got here and ten minutes later, all I hear is a bunch of guys talking about how they'd bang my girlfriend. Like fucking Hell. You’re mine. They can keep their eyes to themselves.”

I laughed, burying my face into his chest, mortified, as I wrapped my arms around his waist. His chest shook as he wrapped his arms around me, kissing my temple. I smiled as my laughter faltered, “I feel really stupid.”

He chuckled, “You should, be glad we cleared this up on the first day. But really, do you really think I’d settle for less than the best? If I wanted a plastic Barbie, I’d have one.”

I rolled my eyes, pulling away, “You’re such an ass.”

“You love me anyway,” he taunted.

I turned and looked at him. He’d told me he loved me over and over again. He wasn’t even embarrassed of it. But I’d never told him the three words. Did he even want to hear them? He’d said them, so maybe he did want a reply. Or maybe he didn’t want to hear them. Before I could think any further, I’d spoken, “Yeah. Yeah, I really do.”

A tiny, smile perked the corners of his lips, “You really what?”

I looked away and took a nervous intake of breath as I moved away and towards the door, “Well why don’t you look at the time? We’re about to be late for calculus!”

I rushed out of the door just as Jake laughed, “I love you too!”

God. I was such a wimp.