“What kind of makeover?” I ask, curious.
“Get rid of the sweet frilly skirts and blouses. Get you some slutty clothes. Are there any good places to shop around here?”
I laugh. “Nope.”
She turns to me. “Really?”
“Well, there are only two places to buy clothes in this town,” I explain. “There’s In Style Boutique, owned by Mrs. Davies, a nice elderly lady, but all they sell is Gramma clothes, and then there’s Fiona’s Fashions. It’s owned by this girl I went to high school with, and it’s all biker clothes, black leather, chains, and stuff like that.”
She lights up. “Sounds perfect!”
“C’mon, Corrie. Can you really see me in clothes like that?”
She laughs. “Not really, but it’s just temporary. Think of it as playing dress-up.”
“So what do we do exactly?” I ask, still not quite following her plan.
“We get you some new clothes, snap a few pics and post them on Facebook. Make him see what he’s given up.”
I ponder it for a few seconds. I do want him to see what he’s thrown away. I want him to miss me. I want him to want me back. And it’s just an outfit or two. It’s not like I’d be getting a tattoo. “Let’s do this.”
Mandy startles the both of us when she swoops in and throws herself on the bed, right on top of me. “Maevie-girl,” she squeals and plants a wet sloppy kiss on my cheek. I hug her tight and laugh my head off.
She finally pulls from me. “When did you get in?”
“About an hour ago,” I tell her.
“So what’s the plan for today?” she asks.
“We’re going shopping,” Corrie tells her.
“In Westbrooke?” Mandy asks, confused.
“We’re going to slut-up Maeve,” Corrie tells her.
She laughs. “Well, after that, do you guys want to go to The Spot tonight, shoot some pool?”
I smile. The Spot is the local pub. I’ve only been there a handful of times, but I know it’s a regular hang-out for Mandy, Blake and a bunch of other locals.
“Will your brother be there?” I ask.
She smiles. “Probably.”
“Then, no,” I deadpan.
She laughs. “C’mon, Maeve. This is a small town… you can’t avoid him.”
“Blake is perfect,” Corrie blurts. “He’s perfect.”
“What?!” I scoff. “He’s far from perfect.”
“No, I mean… he’s the perfect guy to make Peter jealous, make him see that you’re not such a good girl, after all.”
“But Iama good girl,” I argue.
“It’s all about illusion,” she says. “We’ll just make youlooklike you’re a bad girl.”
“Good girl gone bad,” Mandy chimes in. “I like it.”
