“You can try on anything you want.”

  The first piece that catches my attention is a moss-green satin mini slip, dark brown lace crawling over the neckline, thin spaghetti straps, an irregular diagonal hem trimmed with more lace.

  I brush my fingertips over the fabric. “This is so pretty.”

  “You should try it on. Bathroom’s right there.” She points down the hallway.

  In the bathroom, I strip down to my underwear and slide into the dress. The fit is a dream. I only have to adjust the straps a little.

  The satin is ruched at the waist, pulled into gentle folds that twist the dress into an asymmetrical drape, like it was shaped by hands instead of seams. Cool satin brushes my skin as I look at my reflection.

  I haven’t felt this hot in a long time. I hold onto that feeling as I step out and do a little catwalk for Ana.

  “So,” I say, drifting toward the mirror, “this is love at first sight.”

  It can’t look that good.

  But it does.

  “That dress never fails,” she says, like she understands exactly what’s happening to me. “And I have the perfect shoes.”

  Her smirk is mischievous as she drops to her knees, digging through shoeboxes in her closet. Until she finds the ones.

  “Here”

  She extends a Versace shoe box, and opens it slowly for dramatic impact. Inside, placed like jewels, lime-green Versace stilettos wrapped in snake-textured straps, spiraling like ivy, small leaf details stitched along the laces. The heel is slim and translucent, like a shard of green glass.

  I—very carefully, take one out of the box. I’ve never been a brand person. I always thought clothes shouldn’t be expensive, and brands like these exclude a lot of people, creating this weird idea that you’re better for owning them.

  But I’d be lying if I said my inner child wasn’t screaming right now.

  “You have fancy things!” I say, impressed.

  She laughs. “Yeah. But I actually got them in a sample sale.” She turns the shoe to show me the connection of the straps. “This strap was broken, here. I sent it to a shoemaker that I know, and he fixed it for me.”

  “You go to sample sales?”

  “I was a bit of a fashion wannabe when I was younger,” she says, rolling her eyes.

  “Well,” I say, fastening the strap around my ankle, “these are gorgeous.”

  I stand. Take a few steps. With every step, I feel more confident.

  Ana raises her eyebrows. “You look fire right now.”

  I’m back in front of the mirror. “Ana… I do. I do look fire.”

  We laugh.

  When I change back into my clothes, she appears with an armful of skincare products and nail polish bottles, lining them up on the coffee table like an altar.

  “Are we committing to beauty?”

  “I’m here for the full experience.”

  I’m trying to adjust a facial mask so it fits my eyes and my mouth at the same time, but for some reason I can’t. “I think these masks are a bit…”

  “Defective?” Ana says, coming out of the bathroom with hers completely crooked. She’s even torn it at the nose bridge so both eyes fit, but it still looks wrong.

  I laugh. “Yeah.”

  “I bought them at a Korean beauty place. They swore these were the real deal.”

  “Are their faces this small?” I ask, squinting at my reflection while the gel keeps sliding into my eyes.

  “No way—” She says, reading the packaging. “These are for kids.” She shows it to me, and points to a corner where it says small in pink, ‘for kids 6-9’

  We stare at each other’s facial-masked faces for one second, realizing at the same time that of course it was impossible to fit them on our faces. We crack up.

  She goes to make iced tea while I sit on the floor separating nail polish colors. When she comes back, she’s carrying a tray with two big cups full of ice and a jar filled with a honey-colored liquid.

  “Grab all we need and let’s go to the terrace.”

  I grab most essential items and follow her, first through her room and passing the French doors. I step outside and the sunlight blinds me for a second, the sun hits hard. The air is chill, but under direct sunlight I doubt we’re going to last here very long.

  Ana sets the tray down, disappears again, and returns dragging a huge fabric parasol—white and yellow stripes, little beaded tassels. She slides it into the center of the table and opens it with a flourish, providing a strong shield from the three pm sun.

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  I sit down on a slightly heated chair, but the cool air makes it bearable. Ana passes me a cup with tea that smells delicious. I grab it and take it directly to my mouth.

  It tastes like peaches and honey, it feels like we are right in the middle of summer with just a drink. I put the cup down and the ice inside rearranges, clinking softly.

  She extends her hand towards me. "I haven't done anything to these babies since forever.” Her nails are uneven but still look neat.

  "I'm pretty good at shaping them, do you have a nail file?"

  She passes me one, and I grab her hands and start to sculpt.

  "Did you always want to be a teacher?" I ask, while I shape her nail into an oval.

  Ana is quiet for a moment, watching me work. "Actually, when I was young, my mom was obsessed with beauty pageants. She put me in them starting when I was maybe eight."

  "Really? Do I have to call you Queen?"

  She laughs. "Actually, Teen Queen of New Jersey 2015"

  I gag, "I'm dead!"

  “Yeah—” she flutters her lashes. “But I hated it. I was anxious all the time. I was only doing it for her. And when I got older, it all started to feel… creepy.”

  "I know what you mean, little girls in make-up feels pretty surreal."

  "Yeah, but it was more than that. The judges, the toxic parents, the girls crying. I did it until I was seventeen, and then I finally told her I didn't want to do it anymore."

  I look up from her nails. "How did she take that?"

  She shakes her head slowly, “Not well—”

  “Check if you like the shape.”

  She holds her hand out in front of her, studying her nails. “These are nice. Love it.”

  I nod, very sure of my polishing game. “Give me back. I didn’t finish.” She lays her hand on mine again. “So…How’s your relationship with your mom today?”

  It takes her a second. “We are a bit distant right now—meaning, I moved here just to live far away from them.” She laughs.

  I raise my eyebrows. “Woah. She took it that bad?”

  “At first she kept trying to control everything. Signing me up for stuff I didn’t want. That’s when I realized it was never about me.”

  “That must be hard being so young,”

  “Yeah. But it also pushed me toward school. My grades went up. I found my own thing. Still… we fought constantly. It was exhausting.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  She shrugs lightly. “I graduated. I moved. Never looked back.” A small smile. “Parents, right?”

  I shape the last nail.

  “What about you?” she asks. “Did you always want to be a photographer?”

  I move to her other hand, thinking about how to answer.

  "When I was eleven, still living in Argentina, my mom gave me a film camera.” I blow lightly over her nails to clear the dust.

  “That’s cute.”

  I press my lips. “She told me I should use it a lot, because I was going to want to remember all my friends and my life. That was her way of telling me we were moving here."

  "Oh, wow."

  "Yeah. At the moment I was mad, and sad.” Something gets tight in my chest. “But it was honestly the prettiest thing she'd ever done for me. I started taking pictures of my friends, the school, my street, favorite corners of my house. And when I got the prints from my first roll of film, I had this feeling of… beauty, I guess.” I smile at the memory of my friends at school posing for a picture.

  “I just kept asking my mom for more film, and the rest is history."

  "Do you still have those pictures?"

  "Of course. I have a box of memories with pictures and letters from my friends. I'll show you someday."

  Ana smiles. "I'd love to see them."

  In between polishing and painting, we start sharing childhood memories.

  Ana tells me about the time she learned tap dancing for a talent show. “My mom sent me to classes every day for two months.” She laughs before even telling the story. “In the middle of my routine, I have to do this kick—” She stands up, puts her hands on her waist and does a small demonstration of the choreo and a dramatic kick.

  I clap, laughing. “That’s cute.”

  “Yeah. The problem was that my shoe flew away. And it hit a judge in the face.”

  “No!” We laugh.

  “And I just kept dancing. Tapping my bare foot.”

  The afternoon really flies by. I notice the sky changing from blue to yellow. I check my phone and see a text from Jess saying she’s downstairs.

  "Jessie is here." I say, as we hear the buzzer.

  Ana presses the intercom button. "Come up!"

  Minutes later, Jessie appears at the door looking like she's raided a costume department—two large tote bags slung over her shoulders, leaves and small silk flowers peeking out from the tops. "I brought the entire forest!" she announced, grinning as we hugged her.

  "Hi babe, how are you?" Ana says warmly.

  "Fine. Thanks for inviting me," she says, dropping her stuff on the couch. “I've been wanting to go to this club since forever."

  "I said the same thing to Emma."

  I nod. "She did."

  "Well, let me show you guys what I brought."

  She immediately starts unpacking her treasures on Ana's coffee table—delicate fabric leaves in every shade of green, tiny flowers on wire stems, ribbons in earth tones, and even some pairs of translucent fairy wings from an ethereal photoshoot we did months ago.

  "Oh my god, try these," I say, handing Ana the wings.

  She slips them on, and they catch the late afternoon light streaming through her windows, casting rainbow patterns on the walls.

  We gasped collectively.

  “Okay, we are all wearing these.” Jessie says, as the official stylist of the event.

  Seconds later we are all winged, dancing around the table, feeling free like little kids.

  "Okay, I'm starving.” Ana says, catching her breath. “Let me cook something for us." She puts the wings down, and disappears in the kitchen.

  Jess pulls out her phone to take pictures. “The theme is ‘fairy charm’”

  I laugh and try my best to match the theme.

  Ana pops her head out of the kitchen. "I can improvise a broccoli risotto. What do you think?"

  Jessie says, "Love" right away.

  I just make a ‘Yum’ sound.

  Jessie and I gathered around Ana to help with the food. I grated some cheese while Jessie cut the broccoli into perfect little trees.

  "So," Ana said, stirring the rice, "confession time. I've been living off cereal and takeout since Martin left. This is the first real meal I'm cooking in days."

  "At least you have cereal," Jessie laughs. "Yesterday I ate crackers with hot sauce for dinner and called it deconstructed nachos."

  I wince at the mental image.

  "Jessie, why?!" I say, grossed out.

  “Oh yeah. Emma told me you’re having money problems. What’s going on?”

  Jessie unconsciously darts her eyes at me. For a split second, her look cuts the air between us, but she instantly relaxes and laughs it off, saying, “I don’t do it because I’m poor. I do it for the sake of science.”

  Ana chuckles, "What were your findings?"

  "My findings were very conclusive, crackers with hot sauce do not taste like nachos"

  "Wow,—I laugh— who would have thought?"

  "Well, someone had to try it out" Now Ana adds butter to the pan, stirring non stop. “Can you slowly add some grated cheese?”

  I stop eating the grated cheese, and start sprinkling it on the rice while Ana stirs. "Do you miss Thai food Jess? It's so different from the food here, right?"

  "Oh my god yes, especially this dish called khao soi—it's like a curry noodle soup with crispy noodles on top. So creamy and spicy and perfect. I miss many things tho"

  “At what age did you come here?”

  “At twelve, like Emma.” She smiles “We bonded over that working together.”

  I got an instant clip in my mind of us having lunch together in between shoots, laughing at our differences and bonding over our similarities.

  Ana makes a movie trailer voice over “Two girls from different sides of the world, have more in common than they think. Earning their lives in the New York jungle lifestyle. Where only the strongest survive. Do they have what it takes?”

  We laugh.

  “I would watch that” I say, convinced that sounds like an entertaining premise.