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intertwined with the cinder red ones from underneath, I checked the cascade of curls. Good. No sign of frizz, so I clipped each side with a comb that matched the skirt I wore. This style added emphasis to my falling mane, hopefully causing the male eye to scan and process.
    A black silk blouse with a low scoop neckline tapered down to hug my thin waist. Unpainted lips curved in disgust, noticing the transparent charcoal stripes that lacked at enhancing my chest. Very few outfits helped my features, but most screamed, “She’s almost sixteen.” At least I was a solid B cup because the absence of sensual curves was depressing. That’s when the solution came to me, and a smile replaced the pout as my reflection glanced down at the tissue box.
    Around my neck hung the amulet my mother told me to never take off. When my parents gave it to me on my fifteenth birthday, Mom cried while my father hooked it behind my neck. She had cupped my face, told me to keep it close because she explained it was a way to watch over me and show others how special I was. Eesh , whatever that meant. The memory still confused me. If my parents had purchased it, ten to one, it was probably expensive. I figured they made a big deal because they didn’t want me to lose it.
    Unfortunately, the color didn’t go with my outfit, so it had to go. What could it hurt? Manicured fingers worked at the clasp as the red garnet rose took on a deep purple sheen. The rose sat perfectly within the gold-roped polygon setting. When the lock released, a quick stir of wind hit me in the face and brought with it a thick heaviness settling across my chest. Straightaway, a sad ache formed behind my eyelids, and it stung, but it wasn’t enough to ruin the evening. After clasping the chain together, the lid to my jewelry box opened, making me jump. A knot at the back of my throat made it hard to dismiss the nervous laugh. Placing the necklace into the front slot, it took on a presence making me feel as if I were closing a coffin lid. I sighed and said out loud, “This is ridiculous.” The atmosphere changed, and so did my focus when I caught sight of myself in the mirror.
    The blouse complemented my long, empty neckline. With my favorite smoke-black choker, it filled the space nicely. Then, I added the matching bracelets and earrings to complete the set. It was needed to make the opposite sex look up, take notice, instead of down where they lost interest with me.
    My mom had always told me, “When a wandering eye catches a fancy wrapper, they only want to taste the candy. Make them see you for who you are, not for what you could be right now.”
    “Freak’n, as if. Who was she kidding?” I said to no one, and my reflection laughed with me. Really, who was she kidding? Her closet contained almost every name brand of clothing and accessories known to woman. Mom, thy name is vanity. She said it was because of the dress code at her job, but I knew people were judged by first impressions.
    I held a breath while I paused. “Just wait,” I whispered to myself after making a small promise to the feature staring back. Sixteen was a transformation number. Clasping both hands together, I whispered a pre-birthday wish. The guys would drool for this killer body. Until then, I would enhance and accessorize my slight shortcomings to make up the difference.
    My room was awesome if I did say so myself. Painted in midnight blue, I added to the ambiance by plastering about a hundred or so glow-in-the-dark stars I had cut out on a whim after one of my nightmares. If memory served, it had been time-consuming, but the added depth gave the room a three-dimensional feel. A black and silver ceiling fan hung in the middle of the room, and I placed three black bulbs in each smoke glass casing so the stars took on an eerie, light green glow.
    A flat black makeup table with silver knobs to accent the half-length mirror stood against the wall. The top of the table, crammed with the latest