“What?” I demand. “That’s not fair.”
“And neither is this,” she yells, indicating down at Aiden. “Now, get the hell out of here so this poor boy can leave with a little shred of dignity.”
“But we…”
“Go,” she yells, stepping out of the doorway and pointing a finger out the door.
“Shit,” Aiden sighs. “Just go.”
I look back at Aiden and then to Tully before letting out a sigh. “We’ll go deal with Stacey.”
“Get her good,” he demands as Mrs. Carson steps towards us, the very last bit of her patience running out.
Tully and I scurry along and before we even have a chance to get to the cafeteria to eat, the bell sounds, sending us straight back to class.
Chapter 5
I step out of the bathroom stall and look at myself in the mirror. This is humiliating with my brown turtleneck, white pants pulled up to my waist, and white suspenders crossed over my chest. Not to mention the brown slides with a white cotton ball attached on top.
“No,” Tully groans painfully from the bathroom stall behind me. “This is not cute. How did we get into this mess?”
“From trying to get Aiden out of his mess,” I remind her.
“But this isn’t fair. I can’t pull off the ‘Oompa Loompa’ look. I look ridiculous.”
“Yeah, well just wait until the orange face paint goes on and the green wig gets shoved on top,” I say as I study my reflection with distaste. “We’re going to look fucking fantabulous then. You know, Noah is never going to let us live with down.”
“Don’t remind me,” she cries. “He’s been waiting since the day we were born for this shit. I bet he has a whole film crew set up out there just to make sure he doesn’t miss a thing.”
“Damn it,” I groan, realizing just how right she is.
A loud knock sounds on the bathroom door before Mrs. Carson’s voice yells through it. “Are you two nearly ready in there? You have three minutes to get your butts out here and prepped before showtime.”
“Yeah, yeah, give us a sec,” I grumble, even though we’re going to need a shitload more than just a sec. We were sent in here twenty minutes ago and instructed to get dressed and put the face paint on, but we sat around and talked for half an hour and now I guess we’re running late.
Tully pushes her way out of the stall and I look up and down her body, trying my hardest to control myself, only when I get to the shoes and take in the little cotton balls on each foot, I lose it in a big way.
“Shut up,” she demands. “You look just as bad.”
“I know,” I laugh. “That’s what makes it so funny.”
She walks past me and instantly gives me a dead arm, teaching me not to laugh at her when she’s already down. But hell, if I can’t laugh at her, then I’ll be down too and having the both of us sulking around is no fun at all. We have to make the best of this bullshit.
We make our way right up in front of the mirror and work on getting the paint slathered all over our faces. The only blessing is that with all this paint, the wigs, and the other ten suckers who got roped into this, it’ll be hard for people to figure out who’s who, though, not Noah. He’ll pick us in this line up anywhere.
“Is it supposed to be so sticky?” Tully questions, scrunching up her face as she presses the paint to her skin.
“Who knows?” I shrug. “It’s probably the same paint they used when they did the same damn musical last year.”
“Gross,” she groans, continuing to slather it over her face while looking a little sick.
I man up and get the job done. We have no choice but to participate and the longer we put it off, the worse it’ll be.
I help Tully to evenly spread it down her neck and she does the same for me before we both stand back and admire our handiwork. “We look like fucking morons,” she tells me.
“True, but out of all the morons, we look like the best morons.”
“You’re such an idiot,” she laughs, before collecting her clothes and recapping the face paint.
We start making our way out of the bathroom and go to reach the handle when the door is kicked in from the other side. “What’s taking you so long?” some girl demands, looking like a little pissed off version of me and Tully.
Tully steps forward into the girl. “What did you say?”
Her eyes widen a fraction before standing her ground. “Mrs. Carson sent me to hurry you two up. The play starts in half an hour and we’ve been working our asses off on this for the past few months and I’m not about to let you two waltz in here and screw it all up. Now hurry your asses up. I still have to go over all the choreography with you and teach you your lines, but then, it’s not like you’re going to remember them. Maybe it’s best you just keep quiet the whole time.”