‘That sounds fun,’ Emma said encouragingly.
‘It’s one thing to have all this stuff done,’ Bel said. ‘But it’s another thing entirely to fit in. Inside, I’m still the same old boring Bel.’
‘You are not boring. You look amazing and you deserve to be there just as much as they all do. You’ll be all right.’
That night, Bel stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror and found herself contemplating the massive changes that had taken place. She felt like the same person … until she saw her reflection, and then it was like a stranger was staring back at her. Who was this new version of Bel Buckley? She certainly looked more exciting than the old one. This Bel looked like she was ready to take on the world. She didn’t look like she belonged in Wessex.This is crazy, she thought with an irritable shake of her head.
Not as crazy as letting a chance to have your real-life version of Jax Lexington pass by.
Bel chewed on her lip as she examined the woman in the mirror.
Embrace this new version.New me. New beginning.
The cocktail evening arrived and Bel wasnotall right.
True to her word, Larkin had left her a suitcase full of clothing as well as everything she could possibly need to accessorise—including a couple of pairs of shoes and jewellery. The problem was that they’d been made for Larkin, Sydney socialite, not Bel, Wessex non-socialite. The dresses were beautiful—probably designer, although Bel didn’t know one label from another. However, while she and Larkin were pretty much the same clothes size, they weren’t the same build. Larkin was tall and graceful. Bel was … not. She was shorter and had curves in places Larkin didn’t. She also had boobs. And this was the current dilemma. The cocktail dress Larkin had packed her for tonight—a beautiful shimmering blood-red stretchy number—had a rather low neckline that Bel was currently exploding out of. She’d been forced to call in reinforcements and, thank goodness, Emma had come through.
‘This is impossible!’ Bel said as Emma stood back to study the issue at hand. ‘I’ve got straps showing everywhere. How on earth are you supposed to wear this bloody thing?’
Emma tapped a finger against her lips, tilting her head slightly sideways. ‘I don’t think you’re supposed to wear a bra with it,’ she concluded. ‘I mean, Larkin wouldn’t need to, would she? She missed out on the Buckley cleavage.’
‘Yeah, well, I wish I had too.’ Throughout high school she’d been self-conscious about her breasts, so much so that she’d always tended to wear baggy clothing to hide them whilemost other girls in her year were proudly showing theirs off. Nowadays, it wasn’t such a drama, except when they refused to fit into the only cocktail dress she had to wear to an evening that was rapidly approaching. ‘I can’tnotwear a bra,’ Bel said irritably as she imagined her uncooperative breasts suddenly realising they had the freedom to swing in any direction—and not necessarily in the same direction at that.
Emma crossed to the open suitcase on the bed and dug through it. ‘Ah-ha! Here you go. Trust Larkin to be prepared.’ She held up a plastic bag.
‘What is that?’ Bel asked, stepping closer to accept the small bag. ‘Silicon adhesive bra cups?’ she read, grimacing.
‘It’s a stick-on bra. I’ve seen these, but never tried them.’
Bel took one of the cups from the bag and grimaced. ‘There’s no way these things are going to support a large boob. Look at it,’ Bel said holding the jelly-like mould up and watching as it flopped about.
‘Well, if you’re going to wear this dress, and I’m guessing you don’t have anything else to wear, then you’ll have to give them a go.’
‘This is so stupid,’ Bel sighed.
‘This is fashion, my love. Welcome to the high life.’
‘Why would anyone buy a dress you couldn’t wear a normal bra under?’
‘Just try it,’ Emma said.
Bel finally managed to wrestle the girls into a vague imitation of the photo she’d found in an online tutorial. Emmahelped her slip the dress over her head and stood back to admire their handiwork.
‘Is the left side higher than the right?’ Bel asked, examining her breasts.
‘No, I think it’s okay. I don’t think we should try adjusting them again in case they lose their stickiness.’
‘Em, I am not feeling supported. At all.’
‘It’ll be fine. Just … don’t run, maybe,’ Emma added, eyeing Bel’s chest critically. ‘Or jump too much.’
‘I’ll try to contain myself.’
‘Then we’re good!’ Emma declared with a bright smile. ‘You look amazing.’
‘I feel like an imposter,’ Bel said, eyeing her reflection. The person looking back at her was a stranger. With no thick-rimmed glasses, her eyes seemed to dominate her face—she’d never seen them looking quite so dramatic. Emma had helped her with make-up and the neutral tones she’d used enhanced her eyes, making them seem almost golden. She had to admit, she did love her new hair. The base was pretty much her own colour, a dark brownish tone, but the highlights they’d added shimmered attractively. With the weight of the dead ends pulling her hair down gone, and a little bit of layering and artful feathering, her natural curls now bounced healthily. She felt like a brand-new person.
She understood why people had been staring at her today. They couldn’t believe it was the same person.Belcouldn’t even believe she was the same person.
‘This hasalwaysbeen you,’ Emma said, catching her gaze in the mirror. ‘You’ve just been hiding for a very long time. Get out there and own it.’
‘But these people aren’t like us. I don’t fit in.’
‘They’re the ones who don’t fit in here,’ Emma pointed out. ‘What would a character in one of your books do in this situation? Be her. This is your moment to step into a storyline. Jax is waiting. Go get him!’
