Sydney
”There’s this spa my aunt used to own downtown.
It’s cozy and they serve anything you want.”
”That sounds like a hotel to me.”
”No, it’s not.” Maeve glanced at me, her fingers tight around the steering wheel as we merged onto the highway.
She only drove when it was convenient or when the place wasn’t too far.
Yet somehow she’d picked me up about an hour ago, and we were still on the road.
“Think of it as a safe place,” she said brightly.
“A place away from everyone who’s ever made you feel less of yourself.”
So you mean run away from reality for one day?
Yeah, I’ve tried that a thousand times and it never works.
But I didn’t say it out loud.
Instead, and smiled.
“I do need to relax a bit after yesterday.”
I felt Maeve’s energy shift for a second.
“Yeah, of course.
And after that, we could get matching makeovers!” she nearly squealed.
I nearly groaned.
“Seriously, Maeve?”
She shrugged.
“Yeah.
We didn’t resume senior year the way we should have.
So I figured this was the right time.
It’s not too late.”
I should have known this was an ambush.
“My hair still smells like alcohol, though.”
”Exactly.” She said without turning to me.
“That’s one of the things we need to take care of.
You’re not planning to walk into Lakeview looking like the girl they tore down at the party, are you?”
”Does the spa perform body reduction surgery?” I muttered.
Meave turned this time and gave me that look.
“Sydney, the spa doesn’t perform surgeries.” She said carefully.
“And you don’t need one.”
I turned to the window but down on my lips.
Why couldn’t I just believe that?
Believe that my body was fine, and I wasn’t slowing down Maeve’s car with my weight.
She exhaled through her nose.
“You’re not broken, Sydney.
You just had a bad night.
That’s it.
It could have happened to anyone.”
Yet, the universe chose me.
Tyler’s voice slid into my head.
“She won’t fit into the car.”
Like I’m some cargo.
My jaw tightened.
“I just don’t want to look like a joke again.”
Maeve reached over and squeezed my hand briefly, “Then don’t.
Let’s remind them that you’re Sydney Walker and you’re better than a million of them combined.”
I managed a smile at Maeve’s effort.
God, I didn’t want to sound ungrateful or a “buzzkill,” but it was hard…so hard.
A part of me wanted to believe her.
But the other part was bruised from years of laughter.
Finally, I forced a grin.
“A trial won’t hurt, right?”
”Oh, definitely not.” Maeve said, brightening up.
“My friend Sandy works there.
You’ll love her.”
The minute we got there, I knew we’d arrived.
The place was nothing short of what Maeve had yapped about—it was cozy, soft lighting, warm air, and the faint scent of lavender that was enough to make anyone feel like letting go.
And suddenly, I didn’t feel like I was in Lakeview.
I didn’t feel like the fat girl everyone couldn’t stand.
Maeve practically dragged me to a chair before I could change my mind and run away.
“You’re starting with a facial,” she announced like she owned the place.
“And then hair treatment.
And maybe shape your brows a little.”
I swallowed.
I’d never actually done anything to my hair or my face before.
“I won’t look funny, will I?” I asked before I could stop myself.
“Of course not, love,” Sandy said warmly, then laughed.
“Your friend is hilarious.”
”And I love her!” Maeve chimed, turning on a blow dryer.
“I knew this was an ambush,” I muttered, trying to look anywhere but the large mirror in front of me.
She grinned at my reflection.
“You love me too.”
Unfortunately, I did.
For the first twenty minutes, I could barely relax.
Because every time someone touched my hair or my face, I got a reminder of my body and counted how many seconds it took for someone to move around my body.
But slowly, my body relaxed, and I gave in to the warm steam and gentle arms massaging my scalp.
I nearly melted into the seat.
For the first time since the party, I felt like me again.
No laughter, no eyes burning into my skin like some prey.
Just me…breathing.
And by the time my hair was done, it fell in soft, glossy waves over my shoulders, instead of the frizzy mess I usually brushed through absentmindedly.
I stepped out, and Maeve gasped dramatically.
“Oh my god, did you see my friend walk in there just now?
She’s like this height, red cheeks, and didn’t think she was this gorgeous?”
I rolled my eyes automatically.
“Stop.”
But when I turned to the mirror, I froze.
My skin looked smoother, brighter.
My lashes looked darker from the light mascara, and my brows were subtly shaped.
There was nothing extreme on my face, but I could swear I’d never seen the girl staring back at me in the mirror.
Maeve placed her hands on my shoulders.
“What was that about surgery again?”
I actually smiled.
My glossy lips pulled at the edges in a smile that felt too genuine to be real.
As much as I didn’t want to admit, I loved the girl looking back at me.
Looking like she hadn’t cried just that morning.
“You’re not broken, Syd.” She added.
“All you need is to stop hiding.”
Stop hiding.
How? You are reading on g.com, the official source.
After that, she insisted on light makeover for both of us.
Just a bit of contour and highlight.
And before I knew it, I was laughing heartily at her joke about some girls in swim class—dressed in one of Maeve’s fitted tops and high waist jeans as we drove down to the cinema.
A new movie just premiered, and the lobby was packed.
Posters everywhere, loud chatter, and that buttered popcorn smell in the air.
My nerves crept in, and I tugged at the top.
I hated crowds.
But as I clung to Maeve on the line, I noticed something.
Everyone was everywhere, but they weren’t looking at me.
And even if they were, they weren’t pointing and whispering or laughing.
I stared down at my half eaten popcorn.
Somehow I felt put together, straighter.
I finally looked like one of them.
A small smile tugged at my lips.
“I’m getting more popcorn,” I muttered.
“Don’t be long.
I won’t wait for you!”
I knew she would.
I made my way back to the popcorn stand, my eyes on the menu as I collected my refill.
Even the man smiled at me as he handed it back to me.
I turned—bumped into someone.
“Careful.”
That voice.
My stomach dropped.
Tyler.
He steadied the popcorn before it tipped.
But then he paused.
For a second, none of us spoke, even though there was a scream ringing in my ears.
My breathing slowed, and I just held his gaze, catching his eyes take me in.
“You cut your hair,” he finally said.
“Trimmed.” I corrected, almost squeezing the paper bucket in my hand.
“You look…” he paused.
I braced myself for a joke, a laugh, or even an eye roll.
Instead, something flickered in his eyes—something close to the one he had when I crashed into him at the party.
It was like he…saw me.
But the next moment, it vanished.
“Well,” he turned around, his voice flat.
“Enjoy the movie.”
My shoulders dropped.
Tyler didn’t complete his words.
And somehow that felt worse than any joke he would have made at that moment.