LIZZIE

"Ow!" I snapped and smacked my sister's arm harder than I probably should've done it, but the second the straight iron just breathed against my neck, I could've done much worse than hit her arm.

"Don't be a baby!" Gina snapped and whacked my back. In these moments, she looked just like our abuela when she was younger, with their thick browns, sharp eyes and squared jaws. Gina was teeny, but like a small dog foaming at the mouth, she was a thing to fear and would absolutely put me in the hospital. She forced me to sit forward before she continued to curl my hair. This was only the first step of all the torture. Next, Gina wanted to do makeup and pick out my clothes.

Before I forgot, I needed to hide all the clothes Parker gave me.

There was a 100% chance Gina would pick out one of Parker's outfits and I think I'd cry and ruin the eyeliner Gina just spent twenty minutes applying to my face. Well, whatever I hadn't already cried off from her sticking me in the eye with the sharp stick. If this was her version of torture, a ploy to take my allowance money, it was working.

"You know we're gonna have to do this all over again for Halloween," Gina warned me and I whimpered, trying to focus on my nails digging into my leggings. Gina also planned to help me get ready for my costume, which I decided on being a Pink Lady from Grease. By the end of this trial, I didn't feel too pure not to wear pink.

"Now..." Gina said, admiring her work in the mirror. Her French manicure hung over my shoulders like preppy talons. "How do you feel about fake eyelashes?"

As the color drained from my face, there was a knock on the door. I nearly elbowed Gina in the ribs to make my escape, fumbling off the stool to get to the stairs. I stampeded down the stairs, flying past Danny. I threw open the door without thinking.

And on the other side, Parker perked up, her eyes popping open. Like the Parker I knew, she wore a huge hot pink fluffy coat and striped pants with platform boots. Half her hair was up in a ponytail, tied with a matching pink scrunchie.

She stared at me.

I stared at her.

It had been days since I met her eyes, since I stood this close. My chest tightened, squeezing the breath out of my lungs, the air I would've used to say something, to say hello, to ask how she was holding up, and if she couldn't stop thinking about the breakup at night when she was trying to fall asleep too.

"Sorry to like barge in," Parker said.

"You're not barging in, you're still outside," I said without thinking it through.

Parker grimaced. "I didn't mean it like that. I mean, like I'm sorry I didn't call first or message, but I didn't think you'd answer."

"So... you thought you'd just show up anyways?"

"No?" Parker opened her mouth to bicker back, but the question just continued to hang there as nothing she thought to say helped her case at all. At least one of us was thinking. I needed to put this big mouth of mine under lock and key.

Let Parker talk first, instead of making her react to me and my hurt.

"Listen," Parker said before letting out a small little huff. She took a deep breath of the cool autumn air, then she unloaded everything as quick as I could keep up. "I know you broke up with me! And I know you can't stand me, but we have to work together to save the play, so Camille can have her debut and my dad can see my costumes and Norah can wear that damn tiara and you can play music and—"

Danny approached from behind me, grabbing the door to make his appearance. He narrowed his eyes at Parker, who was actually his height in those shoes. Parker looked at him like she saw the boogey man. Her freckled face flushed as she tried desperately to backtrack. "Uh, no I mean uh when you broke up with the... play and you can't stand me."

I chuckled. "He knows, Parker. I told him."

"You told him?" Parker blinked. She looked between us and a smile appeared, making her eyes sparkle. It'd been so long since I saw Parker smile like that. I took it like a gunshot to the stomach. "Really? That's amazing. You're amazing."

"Thanks," I said, losing my breath.

Danny leaned closer to my shoulder. "Do I need to get rid of her? She's super tall, but she looks throwable."

"No, no." I patted his chest and shoved him back into the house. "I've got this, Danny, but thank you." Turning back around, I closed the door behind me. I braced myself from the cold by crossing my arms. "What do you mean save the play?"

"Mrs. Donnelly is going to cancel it, if we can't get together at least ten more people to be a part of the chorus and I have a few other plans."

"But why do you need my help?"

"Why wouldn't I want your help? I can't do this without you, Lizzie."

I turned away to shut the door. This couldn't sway me. This was a trick and I wasn't so naïve anymore. Suddenly, Parker's voice jumped out. She sounded so panicked. "Wait! Lizzie, don't go yet. I need your help to do this, because everyone loves you because no one can say no, not to you. People love saying no to me."

"Parker." I softened. Maybe I was still a bit foolish.

"I know I messed up, but I'm trying to fix it. I'm trying to make it all better."

"Parker, I'm—"

"And I don't want you to be left out! Because the play's important to you too, so you deserve to be a part of the thing that saves it."

"PARKER!" I shouted and she curled her lips into her mouth. I laughed a little and shook my head. "I'm just going to grab my jacket and some shoes, unless you plan to carry me everywhere."

"Oh." Parker blushed.

"Stay out here or you'll have to get the third degree from Danny."

"Right, great." She put up a thumbs up and I hurried inside. I tossed on my school sweatshirt, throwing over my coat and tied on my trusty converse. By the time I made it downstairs with my keys and my backpack, Parker's teeth were chattering. I dragged her to my car, insisting I was still the driver of this operation.

Parker climbed inside her seat. Her seat.

"Um," Parker said, shyer than I expected. She cleared her throat and struggled to put her seatbelt on, pulling it too fast so it'd resist. She struggled and mumbled under her breath. "You uh, look really pretty. By the way. Whatever. I'm cool."

With a laugh, I rolled my eyes and backed down my driveway. "Shut up and just tell me where I'm going."

#

Parker went first, kicking the door open with her platform heel. A curse flew out our victim's mouth as Parker and I walked inside the bedroom as a unit. Parker stood behind me with her arms crossed as I rested my hands on my hips and narrowed my brows at Jordan, curled up in his Pokémon themed blanket. Jordan's brown curls were all over the place, some were covering his blurry tired look.

He blinked, struggling to wake up. "Whoa. Whoa. What's going on?" He tried leaning to look past us, towards the hallway outside his bedroom. "Mom?"

"Your mom can't help you," Parker said, a bit more threatening than we were actually going for.

"She sold you out," I added.

"Huh? What? I don't understand."

"Get dressed, Prince Charming," Parker demanded. "You've got an appointment with Dr. David Wilson in less than an hour. If you're a good boy, we might stop by McDonald's or something. Your mom threw us some cash."

"I don't..." Jordan finally sat up, revealing his Phantom of the Opera T-shirt from last year, when he played Raoul and made every girl in school fall in love with him. Last year, he also fell down the stairs that led to the Phantom's lair so much, we had to change the entire set and let him walk through the audience instead.

He rubbed his eyes with a sigh. "Who's David Wilson?"

"Dr. David Wilson," I corrected him. "He's your eye doctor. You're getting glasses, Jordan. Now, do you want to pick your clothes out or are you going to let Parker do it? Careful how you answer. She's a loose cannon, look at her pants."

"I don't need glasses."

"Yes, you do! You know you need them, Jordan. You're not fooling anyone but yourself and I don't even think you're doing that. Jordan." I softened my voice, knowing I wasn't going to get anywhere by screaming at him. People were always yelling at him about this, so loud that he had started to cover his ears. Meanwhile, Parker stalked to his closet and flipped through his shirts. "Why are you so against getting glasses?"

Jordan grimaced. His body deflating. "I'm gonna look so stupid and... my dad can't wear contacts and neither can my older sister. Their eyes are too bad."

"What?" I tilted my head, eyeing Parker from the corner. Maybe she understood where he was getting at, but she just shrugged and started pulling shirts and sweaters to her liking. "But... why does that matter? You can just wear glasses, Jordan. It's no big deal. This isn't 1950 when some punk kid is going to shove you in a locker and steal your lunch money just because you wear glasses."

"Lizzie, have you ever seen Fiyero wear glasses?"

I stared at him, letting my brain whirl and try to come up with an answer.

"What about Link? Conrad Birdie? Or Enjolars? You haven't, right? Because the guy with the dorky stupid glasses doesn't get the lead role on Broadway." He picked at his shirt. "Do you think I would've gotten to play Raoul with glasses? No way. I would've been a producer or the guy that got hanged. Everyone's going to take one look at me and think, that's not Prince Charming."

I dropped down and took Jordan's hands. "First of all, you don't know if they're not going to let you wear contacts. You can't let fear stop you from getting help. Jordan, if you don't end up getting glasses, you're never going to be able to drive or really function in the world. Hell, I think you might really hurt yourself one day..."

Dropping his face, Jordan's lips thinned to one miserable line.

"But," I said and squeezed his hand, "I've heard you sing, Jordan. If you have to have glasses, it won't matter because no one can sing like you. Glasses aren't going to change your voice. Your voice however could change people's minds."

"Go to the doctor," his mother said from the doorway. "I'm worried about you."

Jordan stared at us and soon, Parker dropped an outfit on the bed. She grinned, booming with this wild confidence that I wish I could bottle and use when I needed it the most. "You can't become the person too afraid to go to the doctor."

Jordan nodded. "Okay. But get out of my room. I'm not changing in front of you."

"Fine, but don't you dare sneak out the window. You're blind. You can't possibly climb down."

"Get out," he laughed and threw a pillow at us as we ran back out into the hall. With a laugh, I raised my hand at Parker. We high-fived and I dropped my back against the wall. Jordan's mom thanked us again for our help and we waited for Jordan to emerge. I glanced at Parker, who quickly had to look away from already staring at me and started staring at her shoes.

I bit down my smile, keeping myself from enjoying the awkwardness too much. It was the good kind of awkward. The kind of awkward that felt like a first date that felt like meeting someone for the first time and getting a really good feeling about them.

Stealing another peek, I caught Parker in the eye and she blushed completely tomato red and I had to laugh to myself. Yeah, this feeling I liked a lot. 

#

AUTHOR'S NOTE

And we're cute again, ya'll! I told you this was still a romantic comedy. Now that Jordan is getting help, where will the girls possibly find TEN people to be in this damn musical?? Also, fun side fact, I named Jordan after Jeremy Jordan, who was my Broadway Husband for a very long  time. Thank you for asking, Karen Olivo is my wife forever. 

Don't forget to leave a comment and tell me what you think about the chapter! 

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