“Can you come here, please, Elivia?” Celeste’s voice rang out from the bathroom.
Elivia left behind Sienna’s hair which she’d been plaiting ready for bed and headed into the bathroom. She couldn’t refuse Celeste. No one ever did.
She came to a halt at Celeste’s side in the mirror, viewing as her best friend inspected her pores in the smaller magnified mirror on her bathroom counter. If Sienna’s house had been opulent, Celeste’s house was like a palace; her bathroom and bedroom fit for a queen. Everywhere Elivia looked was polished marble, white walls, a curved free-standing bath and an array of luxury skin care products lined up neatly on the shelves.
She stood patiently until Celeste had finished. She couldn’t be rushed.
Finally, she looked up from her mirror and shot Elivia a wide beautiful smile.
“All ready for bed?”
“Yeah. I was just helping –.”
“You’re sleeping in my bed tonight.”
Elivia paused. Once upon a time, Juliet had slept beside Celeste. It was an honour. But that had been several months ago. No one had been invited into Celeste’s California King bed with its satin sheets since Juliet.
But we don’t talk about her.
No, they certainly didn’t.
“Okay.”
“Wear this.” Celeste handed Elivia a hanger holding a white slip dress trimmed with lace and with a deep plunging neckline.
“Why?” Elivia frowned. She regretted it instantly upon noticing her best friend’s fierce expression.
“Because you’re not sleeping in my bed wearing that.” Celeste gestured to Elivia’s top and shorts combo; little pink rabbits decorating the shorts.
She’d always assumed Celeste hated these pyjamas but had worn them anyway, as her form of rebellion. Celeste may be the head of their group and not a force to be reckoned with, but Elivia would choose what she wore to bed.
Not tonight. Not if she wanted to stay in Celeste’s good graces. Not if she wanted stay number one.
It was the most decadent thing Elivia had ever worn. She felt embarrassed and exposed as she viewed her bare arms, legs and cleavage in the mirror. Celeste appeared behind her, towering over her small frame with an accepting smile.
“Better.”
Elivia lowered her blushing face unable to hold her friend’s intense gaze.
“So are you nervous?”
“About what?” she queried, rubbing her cool arms, wishing she was back in her familiar cotton pyjamas with their pizza sauce stain on the bottoms. Standing there in that pristine bathroom, she felt dirty. Wrong.
“About your date with Bart next Saturday?” Celeste questioned, rubbing moisturiser into her cheeks, all whilst admiring her flawless complexion in the sparkling mirror.
“Erm, yeah. He’s so fit,” she giggled, her cheeks reddening. “I don’t even know what to wear. And what do we talk about? I don’t know anything about him.”
“Talk about?” Celeste’s steely amused eyes danced across to Elivia in the mirror. “What is there to talk about?”
“Well, it’s a date so,” she stammered.
“Oh Elivia.” Celeste straightened. Screwing on the lid of her moisturiser, she placed her hands on Elivia’s dainty exposed shoulders. She felt her sharp manicured nails against her skin making her shiver; reminding her of the last time Celeste’s hands had been on her bare skin. “You’re sweet. So cute and pretty. He won’t care what you talk about,” Celeste reassured, though there was something about her tone that made feel Elivia uncomfortable.
And just as she’d been about to make a joke and request to leave, Celeste’s hand moved from her shoulder and up to her face, freezing her to the spot. Elivia stared up into Celeste’s cool blue eyes with bemusement. An unsettling sensation in her stomach made her squirm as her best friend tilted her head to the side and smiled, stroking her fingers across Elivia’s hot cheeks.
“Are you ready?”
“Ready for what?” Elivia swallowed.
Celeste didn’t reply. Her smiled broadened with a mischievousness note. She then patted Elivia’s cheeks and ushered her out of the bathroom.
Elivia didn’t need to be told twice.
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