One Life To Live

Tonight was all about turning a new leaf for me.

Which was why I told Bethany Lynn yes when she asked if I wanted to go to a party this evening.

She craned her neck around, and gave me a pleasantly surprised smile. “Really, Melly?”

“Yeah,” I responded, shrugging, “why not?”

“Why not is right!” She exclaimed, the smile forming into a full blown grin. “That’s what I’ve been tryin’ to tell ya all along, girl. So…you’re not wearin’ that are ya? I mean, you’re a hottie in anything, but...”

I looked down at myself – baggy sweatpants, a tight turquoise tank top, and my hair piled up into a bun. I laughed, the edges of my mouth tugging at the corners. “Naw, I don’t think this’ll turn any heads.”

Her eyebrows were raised, “You wanna turn some heads, darlin’?”

I winked, “I’m single aren’t I?”

She was awestruck, her jaw propped open. “Well…yes, you are. I just thought—”

“That I was still hung up on Lance?” I guessed. Once she nodded, I sighed. “I’ll admit I’m not over him, over him. But finding a new guy was one of the things you were telling me that helps, right?”

She nodded, impressed. “Yes, it is. Well, then,” she smiled, “let’s get you sexified.”

I braced myself as she disappeared into our small bathroom, hearing clanking and bottles of mouse and makeup being gathered in her arms. She piled the products onto the counter top outside the bathroom – making three or four trips. Holy God. She had every kind of makeup a girl could ever want. Suddenly, I felt lucky to be her roommate. Not that I hadn’t ever felt that way around her before.

That realization usually hit me every moment of the day.

“Okey!” She smiled wide, her white teeth showing. “Be prepared to look fabulous.”

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She curled the last strand of hair, spritzed it with her hairspray, and sighed, stepping back. “Okay, love. You are gorgeous.”

I spun around, and looked at myself in the mirror. Even I had to do a double take.

Every tendril of hair on the top of my head was transformed into millions of golden blonde curlicues. As I jiggled my head, they all were stiff straight because of the TRESemmé hairspray she dounced me with. I smiled in approval – that was a continuous problem I had. Every time I curled my hair it would only stay curly for a half hour, and then get frizzy and messed up. My makeup was perfect – my face was a smooth ivory, the mascara made my lashes look two times longer than they actually were, and my plump lips were a scarlet red. I was beginning to think Bethany Lynn loved that look on me – the pouty Marilyn Monroe. A golden necklace with a topaz gem to match my eyes hung on my collarbone. Then she had me put on a knee length black dress that had flattering capped sleeves, a six inch slit on the leg, and a low, but modest sweetheart bust line so you could see a hint of breast, but not the ‘whole show’, Bethany said. I thought it was gorgeous, and classy. She paired the dress with slinky strappy black heels, and even went to the extent of painting my toenails red when I told her no. She went above and beyond like Bethany Lynn always did.

Even doing all that, she managed to ready herself while she readied me, which was astonishing. She was a beautiful southern belle as always. Her cocktail dress was a strapless, lacey number. The lace was extra sheer about her bust line and neckline, and got thicker below her waist line. It flared out in a grouping of black lace that ended at the bottom of her thigh. She wore a chunky purple necklace that I envied, and stiletto black heels. Her hair was wavy, and she rocked a deep purple smoky eye, her lips nude except for the slick of Chap Stick she put on.

“Wow, Bethany. You’ve outdone yourself this time,” I murmured.

“Aw, Melly it was nothin’.” She nudged my hip. “You’re gonna stop their hearts tonight.”

I gave her a thankful smile, and gave her a hug. She returned it in ernest, and I said, “I never did thank you for putting up with my post depression these last few weeks.”

“Oh honey, please,” she waved her hand dismissively. “Are you kidding? That’s what friends are for.”

“Yeah, well I haven’t been a very good friend to you, Beth. I didn’t even notice you and Freddie.” I smiled secretively.

“Now what are you talkin’ bout, me and Freddie?” She rolled her eyes. “That? We’re just havin’ fun that’s all.”

I nodded speculatively, eyeing her. “He’s sweet on you, girl. You better watch out.”

She sighed and winked at me. “A college girl cannot be held down by one guy. Even if that guy is pretty darn cute.”

I laughed.

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“What do you mean Freddie’s not coming tonight?” I said, taken aback.

“Oh come on,” Bethany beseeched, “we can't always tow that hunk of All-American surfer beauty around all the time. We need some girl time tonight.”

“And by girl time, you mean so you can flirt with some guys tonight.” I decoded.

She dropped one mysterious eye lid and a smirk erupted on her face. “I always knew we were gonna be friends just ‘cause you get my lingo, Melly. Of course that’s our plan! What you do, I do.”

I sighed. “He’s going to be mad at us.”

“Naw,” she shook her head, “he’s sittin’ in his dorm gaming with his idiot friends. We have free reign.”

“Whatever you say,” I smiled.

We were sitting in Bethany Lynn’s purple Porsche – the car she only took out on occasion, and she had it switched to the only country station we both knew of in New York City. My mood instantly perked up when I heard If I Die Young by The Band Perry. It was a very moving, poetic song – one that I adored. Seeing my happy mood, she turned the sound dial up a few notches.

“So whose party are we going to, tonight?” I asked, curious.

“Um, I didn’t really catch who was hostin’ it, but apparently everyone from our floor is going to be there. Corinne Clarke said she knew them real well.”

I nodded. Corinne was one of our few really good friends on our floor. She was a real sweet girl, only about 5’3” – the most petite girl I’ve ever seen. She didn’t seem like the party type, but you never knew how people spent their time out of school. Bethany Lynn told me the apartment we were going to wasn’t that far away – located in the East Village. Personally, I never spent too much in the East Village, but I heard the music scene there was really good. I mentally put that on my places to see in New York City after I was done with this semester of college, and finally got a break. For living in New York City, I never really explored much beyond Barclay and Lafayette. I’d always wanted to take a long trip to Manhattan where the real shopping was done. I’ve went there a couple times with Bethany Lynn, but I always found myself wanting to go back right when I left.

We arrived at a stoplight, and whipped around the corner to pull up to an apartment that had probably fifty or more cars parked up and down the street. Bethany Lynn wasn’t kidding – everyone was here. She expertly slid her Porsche into an empty, dilapidated drive that no one had used for quite a while. She turned her car off, and we began to trek the length back to the apartment. Bethany Lynn walked in heels like she was born wearing them, and I practiced my walk, my hips swaying from side to side. If I was going to wear heels, I had to actually know how to use them to my advantage. I didn’t want to wobble or look like I was an amateur to wearing them. Tennis shoes and sandals were a part of my usual attire. I had maybe one pair of black kitten high heels, and that was it.

It was a fairly chilly night which was what I was expecting for middle November. I was actually expecting the snow to come soon, and was glad to have a long reprieve from it this year. I may have lived in Minnesota where snow came in buckets from the sky, but it’s not like I was in love with it. I’d rather have it be 90 degrees than snowy and 49. We made our way onto the steps of the apartment, and we entered the public hallway. We took the elevator up to the third floor like the girls had told us, and came onto the party floor. I heard the pulsating music, and the numerous voices singing and yelling from outside. Bethany Lynn strutted up to the door, which was propped open. Clearly the hosts were tired of having to open it and close it for the people to come in and out. We made our way through it, and I raised my eyebrows at the scene before me.

I instantly recognized the beat of the song being Rihanna’s Only Girl (In the World). There was a crowd of people gyrating to the music, and another large crowd hanging out at the bar in the back of the room. Bethany Lynn took my arm and directed me to the bar. There were miles of people parked around it, but since most of them were men, Bethany parted the line like the Red Sea.

“Excuse me,” she said in a darling voice, “sorry, my friend and I are trying to get by.” She dragged her hand across a tall guy’s bicep, acquiescing him to move.

He shot himself aside, and nodded to her, giving her a flirty smile. “Of course.”

She winked, and finally reached the bar’s edge. The bartender’s eyes flickered up to Bethany Lynn’s – he gave her a smile. “What can I get you ladies?”

“How about a Sex on the Beach for me.” She pointed at herself, and then hesitated to assess me with a smile. “And a strawberry Margarita for my friend, here.”

I sighed, relieved with her choice. He nodded briskly, and turned his back to put the drinks together. Bethany Lynn leaned her back against the bar table, and apparently the guy she met a few seconds ago was still interested. He approached her, and she gave him an easy smile. I tried to mime her, my facial expression trying to be open and easy going. One good looking guy eyed me up, but I was instantly turned off because it was painstakingly clear he was filthy drunk. I sighed in discontentment, and the bartender slid my margarita over to me. I took a drink, surprised at how good it tasted.

“Well hi there, gorgeous,” came a husky voice to my right.

I turned my head, curious. I stared into a pair of chocolate colored eyes, and a wide, devastating smile greeted me. “Oh,” I responded, stunned, “hi.”

Real nice, Mel. Very sexy opening line, there.

“Hi yourself.” He gave me a once over, and an approving smile. “I’m Greg.”

Now that I got a good look at him, I noticed he was fairly built, but not bulky. He had tanned skin that made you think he spent hours out at the beach every day, and messy, but styled brown hair. I smiled, my eyes trained on his. “Melanie.”

He nodded, never taking his eyes off mine. “Suits you,” he commented, grinning at me. “Haven’t seen you around here before.”

“Oh, no. I live over at NYU. First time I’ve really came to this part of town.” I informed him, sipping my drink.

“Ah, a college girl.” He smiled, his eyes crinkling. “What are you majoring in?”

“Medicine,” I replied briefly.

“I’m not surprised,” he declared. “You look like the type to have to be sewing everyone’s broken heart back together by the end of the night.”

I laughed at his ridiculous joke. “Thanks.”

He grinned, obviously liking the fact that he could make me laugh. He watched me for a moment as I took another swig of my margarita. He waited almost to the extent of the silence being uncomfortable before asking, “You wanna dance?”

I assessed him, my eyes attracted back to his handsome face. He had an easy smile, a good guy charisma that had me saying yes.

I set my margarita back on the countertop, and Bethany Lynn gave me an excited smile. I waved back at her, Greg taking my hand, leading me to the dance floor.