So Much to Learn

by Jessie L. Star

  ~*~

  I awoke some time later and was astonished to realise that I had fallen asleep despite all the turmoil I was in. Then again maybe it wasn't that extraordinary, after all sleep was a pretty good way to escape unkind realities and often things looked better after a kip. Not that that was the case this time, but at least I didn't feel as wiped as I had before I'd had my nap.

  The flat was dark now and, looking towards the windows, I saw that the light was that bluey-grey sort which washed over the land just before proper night fell. Sitting up and looking at my watch I saw that it was just after 6. I wondered what Matt and Jack were doing now and found myself able to clearly picture them. Matt would no doubt be in a pub somewhere acting as if nothing was wrong and being the life of the party, he always became the entertainer when he was troubled about something. Jack, however, was more likely to be sitting in Tommo's lounge room creating an architectural model using precise techniques and steady fingers. When he was upset he preferred to bottle it all up inside and create an outward show of control.

  And here I was, crumpled and disorientated after sleeping through the afternoon and confused about what was supposed to happen next. I took a deep, steadying breath and got up off the couch. One thing was sure, I wasn't moping about in the empty flat for the rest of the evening, that would be more than I could bear.

  I headed to the bathroom where I stripped off, got into the shower and turned the hot water on so high that my skin reddened instantly and I could feel the heat seeping through into my bones.

  Emerging several minutes later in a billow of steam I strode across to the wardrobe and got dressed in my most va-va-voom outfit, a denim miniskirt paired with a camisole top which was little more than a scrap of lilac silk valiantly trying to cover all I had to show. Coupled with a brown leather belt with an ornate silver clasp and the strappy shoes which had been my downfall (literally) on my date with Jack, I was satisfied that I looked sufficiently unlike myself. Next I blow dried my hair into a halo of goldy-brown around my head and plaited back two front sections into a sort of medieval hair style before hauling out my make up case. I applied double the amount I usually would, focusing on my eyes until they were ablaze in a sparkle of subtle purple and silver which, in that random way that colours work, brought out the green in my eyes.

  I stood in front of the full length mirror as I added the finishing touches of a pair of dangling silver earrings and a slim silver chain which fastened at the hollow of my neck and then continued down so the end dangled just above my cleavage, emphasising how low cut my top was. Meeting my gaze in the mirror I saw that I didn't look a thing like myself, I was projecting the image of a stranger, a fairly scantily dressed stranger come to that.

  Perfect.

  I didn't want to be myself that night, I wanted to be a confident, attractive stranger who didn't care about consequences or what would happen in the future. Tossing back my hair and grabbing my little clutch bag which held no more than my keys, wallet and my, admittedly fairly useless since it had no credit, mobile I stalked out of the flat.

  I was going out on the town.