Ticktock Love

[8] Ten Things I Hate About Monkeys

The thing about the Olsen twins' parties was that, no matter who you were or who you decided to come with, you just had to make an entrance.

I knew that. Grace knew that. Julia had conveniently forgotten about that.

Unfortunately for her, Grace decided that the only way our grand debut was happening was if she made Julia her personal makeover project. Armed with an insurmountable power of persuasion for such a tiny person, she barked out an order to drive her back home, leaving the two of us no other choice but to listen.

If rooms could reflect people, Grace's bedroom was the perfect candidate. It was small but compact, each single item lined up in a delicate orderly fashion. Her wardrobe was color-coded and each piece of clothing flawlessly ironed, her nail polish collection assorted by the level of glimmer and sparkle, and the sheets on her bed fresh and clean like she ran a five-star hotel in her spare time. There were no posters or pictures pinned to the ivory walls, and the only central piece allowed in her private haven was a painting of Marie Kondo she had once found at a backyard sale. If my friend was to be believed, she had only paid five dollars and forty-five cents for the privilege of adding it to her possessions.

But Grace also had a secret in her bottom closet drawer, and nobody but she knew what was hiding in its camouflaged compartment. The only reason I suspected clandestine operations was because she snapped the drawer shut whenever I caught her rummaging through its goods.

"I think I can find something that will fit you. You're six-two, right?" Grace stroked a spot on her chin with her thumb as she scrutinized Julia, eyeing her from head to toe like she was virtually taking her measurements. Neither of her friends had any confidence in her math skills, but I didn't have the heart to remind her of that.

Julia crossed her arms, and her plaid flannel shirt wrinkled on her stomach. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"

Our lovely dictator simply grinned.

One hour later, Julia was wearing shimmery taupe eye shadow, a bright purple lipstick, and Grace's short-sleeved, button-up tunic which barely reached her midriff. She still kept on her dark jeans and her size-thirteen Doc Martens for obvious reasons, but thanks to Grace's spectacular makeup skills, she could have easily passed for Wonder Woman's cousin.

"You look amazing!" Grace squealed and hugged her, and after we both gushed about how much the eyeshadow made her smoldering eyes pop, Julia stopped complaining. I could have sworn I saw a hint of a smile inspired by the flood of compliments.

"I still don't see the point, but whatever," she scoffed as she fixed her shoelaces. "What if I need to touch my face?"

"You will not touch your face under any circumstances. Any," Grace repeated, her expression so serious that you'd think she planned on handcuffing Julia behind her back to beat all the odds. "If a mosquito lands on your nose, call me or Liz to get rid of it."

Julia opened her mouth to protest, but Grace beat her to it. "I'm not kidding, Jules. Abstain from gay Tumblr memes for a few hours, please."

"Got it, boss," she rolled her eyes before they landed on me. Her neck craned back in surprise. "Wait a minute. Where did that outfit come from?"

I glanced down at the scarlet heels and the short yellow polka dot dress I had put on while Grace was doing her magic on Julia, acting like I didn't remember changing clothes.

"Oh, this old thing? I keep it in my truck," I grinned and did a little twirl for the effect. "Have you seen Crazy Rich Asians? Peik Lin always has a party outfit ready in her car in case something exciting happens."