I look at myself in the mirror, but it’s not me. No, this girl is dressed up to the nines, extended hair flowing down her back with her face caked in makeup; far from the shabby indie girl that walks in the daylight. Under my eyelids, the coloured contact lenses begin to irritate my newly blue eyes.

“Surely I can wear my glasses?” I plead to the girls standing either side of me.
“No!” Their faces look shocked.
“You want James to fancy you, don’t you?” whispers Shel.
I nod and they continue to curl the hair that isn’t mine.

I never thought I’d have to resort to this to catch James’ attention, but it had been ten years since we met as children, and this was a last resort. I remember that first day and the love that pierced my soul that day, and every time I see him.

At least, I got to pick the dress. To the anguish of my henchwomen, I had picked out a pannier dress that ballooned out of my waist.
And that was what James noticed first when we met eyes later on that night, then danced till midnight.