I sat cross legged on the floor in Jing's messy little bedroom. I looked into the mirror, trying to concentrate on getting my mascara right as Jing prattled on behind me. Her place was just on the outskirts of London, and I knew we needed to hurry to be on time.
"And his jokes! He was always trying so hard, I felt like I was offending him every time I didn't laugh. It was exhausting," she continued. I could hear the swishing of hangers as she looked through her wardrobe for the tenth time tonight.
"He was funny. What club are we meeting them at?" I pouted slightly into the mirror, trying to not let her break my concentration.
"God, I think love really does addle your brain," Jing chirped.
I heard the smirk in her voice. She always seemed to get too much pleasure in telling me how wrong I was. It was even more infuriating that she was normally right.
"Look, I wasn't the one that brought him up. I was being good," I said, aware I sounded petulant.
Jing rushed over and grabbed my wrist, almost causing me to poke myself in the eye as she pulled me to my feet.
"Emily, look in the mirror."
I sighed and rolled my eyes at her.
"Just look," she repeated.
I gave her my best "this is stupid" look before I gave in and stared into the mirror. I always gave in.
It was difficult sharing a mirror with Jing. She was so beautiful, just breathtakingly beautiful. She could have passed for a Chinese supermodel, other than the fact she was only 4'11". She was in her early twenties, but had a mature, sophisticated style. Her straight black hair dropped about half way down her back, silky and perfect, and she had large dark eyes you could get lost in. The boys were always flocking to her.
She was so small and slight. With her tight, toned body she always managed to look delicate and chic no matter what she was doing. She held herself with a dancer's grace that I tried, and failed, to imitate. I knew she worked hard to keep in shape, but it didn't stop me from being envious. She looked almost fragile, but I knew her much too well to underestimate her.
I dragged my eyes off of her and to myself. I didn't look so bad tonight. My black hair and dark eyes matched Jing's, but that was where the similarities ended. I am Filipina and 5'1", a fact I never let Jing forget, teasing her over the the extra two inches. My hair, while nice, was never as flawless as hers. Mine ended up slightly wavy, spilling over my shoulders haphazardly. Despite us being the same age I always looked younger and less stylish, no matter how often she offered to do my make up or take me shopping.
I noticed with pleasure that the running had been paying off and I looked slimmer than usual, even a little toned. I tried not to wince, as I realised that it also made my curves all the more obvious. Even in the modest dress I was wearing, my bust was obvious. My breasts were full and perky, drawing men's eyes downwards while Jing had them captivated by her eyes. My ass also seemed to always be sticking out provocatively, no matter how I tried to hide it.
I took a deep breath, letting my eyes fall back on Jing.
"What am I looking at?" I tried not to smile or it would ruin the game.
"Em, are you over that loser?"
"Jing, I told you-"
"Are you ready to move on?" she interrupted.
"Yes, of cour-"
"Then why?" she whined slightly for effect. "Why this dress?"
I blinked into the mirror, thrown off balance.
"I thought it was a nice colour..."
Jing stared at me, looking exasperated. My voice faltered. I could tell I had messed up somehow. What could it be this time?
"And you really think this will get you laid?"
I winced. Even around her I struggled to talk about these kinds of things. The dress was a beautiful deep blue...but...well...there was nothing exactly sexy about it. The material was thick, the neckline was around my throat and it wasn't exactly daringly short. It wasn't a bad dress, but I had to admit, it was the sort of thing my mother might have picked out for me.
"W..well, it's too late now. Look, next time maybe we can go shopping or something," I replied.
Jing grinned wickedly at me and my insides churned.
"You can just borrow one of mine," she giggled, as I was pulled over to the wardrobe. My wrist was released, only so she could start flicking through her collection.
"No," my voice quavered as I tried to be strong. "No, you know I can't." I crossed my arms and told myself this time I would be firm. The swish of hangers made me tremble.
"You know I can't...pull off...the kinds of things you wear," I stammered, as my heart began to pound. Maybe she would take pity on me? Just for once in our lives.
Jing ignored me as she pulled things out and draped them over her arm, lost in her own world. I stood there helplessly, shivering at the thought of one of her incredibly fashionable dresses, made for someone without my curves.
Jing squealed, pulling me out of my spiral of panic in time to see her drop the rest of the clothes and hold a new dress up to me.
It was everything I had feared.
The dress was beautiful. It was sleek and metallic with thin, clinging material. I had seen Jing wear it before and she looked like she had just stepped off a runway. But this was me. I always dressed to hide my curves. Otherwise, I felt like I looked wanton and slutty, my body calling for attention.
I held up my hands and shook my head.
"No way."
Jing grinned as she advanced on me.
"Stop."
We both knew who was going to win, as always. The idea of going out in something like this made me flush hotly and a warm ache started to grow between my legs. I pushed the warm feeling down, reminding myself of how embarrassing this could be.
Jing moved behind me and grabbed the zipper of my dress, pulling it down in one quick motion. I weakly tried to grasp the dress to me and mumbled in protest, but her hands slipped over my shoulders and tugged it off.