It was Lily… but not. Her hair was blonder and shorter, barely reaching the base of her neck, and it was ragged on the ends but in that way you could tell it was supposed to be. She was wearing makeup — sparkly stuff on her eyes and something that made her scar much less noticeable — and clothes I'd never seen before. Tight dark jeans that stopped at her ankles, and a loose-fitting shirt in a shade between pink and red that brought color into her face. It also had a V in front that dipped low enough to reveal something white and lacey underneath, which made me feel like I should look away. I felt heat rise in my face.
“You like?” she asked, as though asking my opinion on an ice-cream flavor. “It was harder than I thought.” She looked down at herself with a frown, toying with the long, beaded necklace that hung down almost to her waist. “My old look doesn't work for her. She's more funky-free, you know? And then there was working with that stupid budget.” She rolled her eyes.
Slowly but surely, the surprise was wearing off, and I could feel my words returning to me. None of them were good. My God, who did she think she was? She hadn't just crossed the line; she had completely obliterated it. Blood was roaring in my ears.
“We still need to do something about some more color,” Alona continued, seemingly unconcerned with my silence. “I used a little self-tanner. Not the craptastic turn-you-orange stuff, of course. But that's not enough. It's still August, so maybe—”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” The words burst out of me. So, yeah. Not exactly my best opening argument, but you've got to go with what you've got.
She stopped, her mouth partially open, but Alona being Alona, she rallied quickly. “Excuse me?” she demanded, narrowing her eyes at me. She managed, somehow, to jam more indignation into those two words than other people would have with a whole speech. It should have been a warning tome, but I was already too far gone.
I grabbed her elbow and tugged her down the driveway, where we would be less noticeable from the house. I couldn't help noticing she smelled good, like oranges and flowers, and her skin was smooth and soft beneath my hand. These changes in her… No, I did not like this. “Lily is not some doll you can play dress up with when you're bored,” I hissed. “She's a real person—”
She threw her head back with a harsh laugh. “Believe me, I'm all too aware of what you think of Lily.” She turned on me and jabbed a finger in my chest. “What you're forgetting is that, for all intents and purposes, I am Lily right now. If I want to cut
I gaped at her.
She smirked. “Remember yesterday? 'Be grateful for this chance, take advantage of life, Lily's body is just fine with me'?” She smoothed her hands down her sides, a deliberately seductive motion, and I had to look away. “I decided you were right.” The challenge in her tone was unmistakable.
I felt punched. “So this is some kind of revenge or something?” I asked numbly. “Because I wanted you to treat her with respect?”
Hurt flickered across her face for the first time. “Not everything is about you,” she said, but her words lacked the force of a few moments before.
“She doesn't even look like Lily anymore,” I said, the break in my voice taking me by surprise. Was it really a bad thing if she didn't look like Lily anymore? She
But what Alona had done wasn't right, either.
I turned away from her, focusing my attention on a point across the yard until I could get myself under control. My emotions were ricocheting all over the place. I couldn't land on any one of them for more than a second.
“No, she doesn't,” Alona said. “She looks better.
I glared at her over my shoulder.
“No.” She shook her head fiercely. “You don't get to argue with me about this. You know damned well that if she was here and I was alive, this makeover would have made her day, probably even her year.”
I rubbed my forehead and felt the start of a new headache. “You are impossibly full of yourself.”
She threw her hands up. “What do you want from me? No matter what happens, no matter what we do, the girl you knew, she is gone, okay? Even if we could figure out a way to drag her out of the light—”
I winced.
“Which, trust me, would be about as much fun as it sounds — she wouldn't be the same person you knew.” She shook her head, her new haircut framing her face until she tucked the strands back behind her ear. “You can't preserve her as some kind of walking, talking museum exhibit. It's not fair. To any of us.”
“So
