Indigo by Unknown

already on her way there, muttering under her breath about college girls who don’t have full length mirrors.
    I quickly turn back on the blow dryer to avoid the confrontation that I know is coming, but hope won’t happen. Maybe she’ll just keep her thoughts to herself.
    Yeah right. Even though I was expecting it, the tap on my shoulder nearly makes me jump out of my skin. My eyes travel up Sabrina’s tall frame to meet her narrowed expression. She’s holding my towel in her hand and piercing me with a heated gaze. “Indigo, there was a towel hanging over your bathroom mirror.”
    I turn off the blow dryer, keeping my face blank. “Yes, there was.” What else is there to say in the face of the truth?
    She doesn’t respond at first, just balls up the towel and drops it at my feet, her gaze never leaving mine. “I hope there wasn’t a towel on your mirror, for the reason I’m thinking there was a towel on your mirror.”
    I sigh and meet her glare head on and decide to be honest. “Just because it’s impossible to forget that my scar is there, doesn’t mean I want to look at it all the time.”
    I see scan my face, and when she looks back at me, she narrows her eyes. “I’ve barely known you a week, and I don’t know the details of your situation, so--and I can’t believe I’m saying this--I’m going to hold my tongue and not lay into you about how mad that makes me. But I will say that as your newest friend, there will be no more towels.” Without waiting for a response, she turns around and stomps off back into the bathroom.
    I hide back under the sound of the blow dryer. Everyone has to look in a mirror every now and then, so it’s not like I’ve completely avoided it. After it happened and I was home, I couldn’t stop studying my scar. I would spend hours in front of the mirror learning ever rough curve and brutal mark in my skin. But after the first year, it became the only thing I would see when I looked at my reflection. I run my fingers roughly through my drying hair, trying to rid myself of the dark thoughts and hold onto my happy albeit nervous mood.
    With Sabrina distracted in the bathroom, I quickly change into the red top and a new pair of dark jeans, then slip into a pair of matching heels. I’m adjusting the buckle when Sabrina comes out and spots me, her hair freshly straightened.
    “Girl, you are hot stuff,” she says, looking me up and down. “I need some ballet shoes if it’s going to give me a body like that!”
    I tug at the hem of my shirt, trying hopelessly to cover a little more skin over the slightly bared midriff. “You don’t think it’s too much?” I repeat my question from earlier as she walks into the room toward her makeup bag.
    “Too much for Kennedy to handle maybe.” She winks at me and comes toward me with a skinny tube. “That man was salivating after you like a dog that day in the cafe.”
    I feel my cheeks heat at the impossibility. “What! He was not, we don’t even know each other.”
    “From what I heard, Kennedy doesn’t really care about whether or not he knows the girl if you know what I’m saying.
    Her statement fills me with dread, and a sad feeling of inadequacy. I’m so not on his level. What am I doing going out on some sort of pseudo date? I’m so distracted, I let her lean down into my face and spread something over lips. No one besides my mother has been that close to my scar and it takes all my willpower not to bat her hand away. “I’m not like that so I hope he’s not expecting that from me. I don’t even…know him,” I repeat dumbly, as if I say it enough times it will matter to him.
    “That’s what tonight is for,” she replies. Her eyes squint at my lips, admiring her handiwork. “Perfect.”
    “He seems nice,” I admit, my stomach still in knots. “So does Shawn, but we don’t even know him for that matter. Is this really such a good idea, do you think, that we’re going out with them the first weekend? They are