Here is a little snippet (Be nice it's unedited!) I'm so excited about this one! Thanks Jenn for the plot bunny and to Erika for keeping me focused and looking good!!!
|Inspiration for Danny and Lance|
A new shimmery violet eye shadow, highlighted with a dusty grey, covered my eyelids. I cocked my head from side to side, watching my reflection in the mirror as the stream of light from the desk lamp caused the new makeup to sparkle. It was bold, daring, and in my opinion, totally kick-ass cool. With a steady, practiced hand, I added a heavy line of smoky eyeliner around each eye in a winged pattern. Thick penciled-in eyebrows with a high arch, a dab of blush to each cheek, and a light layer of gloss over my plum-lined lips completed the look. Damn I looked good!
I looked over to see my best friend Bo leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. “What? Too much?” I ran my fingers through my purple-streaked blond hair, fluffing it, giving it a little more height.
“Uh yeah, you could say that.” Bo rolled his eyes. “We’re going to a frat party, not a rave.”
“Same diff,” I said. Bunch of posturing men, drinking and flexing their muscles as they chased after one conquest or another, the only difference was the beer would be free and the dance floor for shit at a frat house. Turning away from an exasperated Bo—I knew that expression on his face well—I grabbed the can of hairspray from the makeshift vanity and gave my hair another couple of blasts from the extra sticky hold. Once I was satisfied every hair was in perfect place and would be able to withstand forty-mile-an-hour wind gusts, I set the can down and turned back to face Bo.
Bo waved a hand in my direction. “And what the hell are you wearing?”
I looked down at my attire and shrugged. Torn and frayed jeans hung low on my lean hips, held in place by a black belt with silver studs. Heavy-soled black, lace-up knee boots were hidden behind faded denim so only the black matte leather of the toe was visible. A vintage black Rolling Stones T-shirt with the classic lips and protruding tongue displayed on the front completed my ensemble. I hadn’t even added any of the numerous leather and silver bracelets I normally wore on each wrist, no collar or any other jewelry except the diamond stud in my right ear. If anything I was underdressed.
“What do you mean?” I arched one perfectly penciled brow at him. “Not macho enough?”
Bo threw his head back and laughed. “You look like a bipolar drag queen.”
“Fuck off!” I mumbled, but laughed along with him. Bipolar drag queen. Whatever!
Stifling my giggles, I ran a critical eye down Bo’s slim body. Boot-cut, dark wash denim jeans, white, dollar store tennis shoes, faded blue and white-striped polo shirt. One word came to mind: boring and cheap. Okay, that was two words, but both were accurate. “Better than the thrifty geek look you’re going for.”