chapter 3.2

"Bye!". You wave to your teammates as they exit the locker room, probably to go out and be social on a Saturday afternoon. Unfortunately for you, your only plans are to study alone at the library. Miserable as it may sound, you were telling Yuna the truth when you said your economics midterm is coming up.

"You seriously don't wanna join us for lunch today?". Yuna slings her skating bag over her shoulder. Her freshly showered hair sticks messily to her face, but even like this she looks like she could be on the cover of a teen magazine.

"I'll pass. I can grab a salad from the convenience store before I head to the library. Midterms are coming up and I gotta do a lot of review," you explain, brushing a wide comb through your tangled mess of hair. Yuna moves to pull her hair back into a ponytail. You watch quietly as her perfectly sculpted reflection makes an action so simple into a reason for guilty envy. The stained locker room mirror, however, does your own bare face no favors. Your best friend remains oblivious as you pick yourself apart again. You shove the brush in your bag and turn around before you could fall deeper in insecurity. "Let's go".

As always, you choose to disregard your insecure thoughts. Talking about it seems weird, so you just simply choose not to do it. Bothering other people with your problems is such a hassle and you feel like it's beneath you to be like that. It's best to just keep it to yourself.

"Y/n!," a familiar voice calls out from behind you. You stop walking down the stadium corridor, turning around to see who could've known your name. Usually it's Yuna getting stopped by one of her many friends.

Ashy blonde hair comes into view and the boy jogs slightly to catch up with you. Your legs were doing just fine after over an hour and a half of training, but now they tremble at the sight of the figure panting in front of you.

"Hey, fancy seeing you here," Mark smiles down at you, the dim hallway lights catching on his cheekbones and jawline, somehow accentuating his beautifully sculpted features more.

"I'll see you later," Yuna winks, patting you on the back and making a break for the exit before you could protest.

"I-uh, hey, Mark," you stutter. As casually as you can, you muster the strength to smile back.

Is it just you or did he get even more good-looking since the last time you saw him?

"Did you guys just get out of practice?". You could hardly pay attention to his simple question as you plainly check him out. The junior captain sports a simple outfit consisting of a plain black hoodie with matching black joggers and sneakers. His red hockey bag, slung across his back, is supported by a mere thumb. With the sleeves of his hoodie rolled up to his elbows, you watch as the lines of his forearm muscles shift and strain with each fine movement from the weight of the duffel.

"Uh, yeah. Yeah! We did," you answer after an awkward pause.

Oh, God, please let that not have been weird.

"Are you here for your practice?". You mentally slap yourself for your stupid question; he's wearing gym clothes and has his hockey gear, what else was he going to do at the rink?

"Yeah, I am," Mark chuckles good-naturedly, leaning slightly on the wall next to you, "I came here a bit early, actually. I was hoping to catch you".

Catch...me?

Your face flushes at the heart-fluttering remark. Contesting with the urge to spontaneously burst into flames, you try your best to give a steady reply, "Oh! What for?".

"I-uh," Mark diverts his gaze down to his shoes, "I know I got your number from the group chat, but I wanted to ask you in person. There's a party tonight at the sheep's house- my friend's house- and I was wondering if I was gonna see you there?".

You simultaneously want to sink into the floor and disappear forever and also jump into the air to celebrate. You do neither.

Is he asking you out? Not really. But then again, he wants to see you there at the party. And he came here early to specially ask you in person.

You replay the debate you had with Yuna earlier. Past-you had made some valid points about not going, but how could you say no when he put it like this?... oh, fuck it.

"For sure. I'll be there". You offer a wry smile to try to cover your nervousness.

"Awesome," Mark's eyes twinkle as he smiles, "can't wait to see you tonight, then".

"Can't wait," you echo. You can't help but notice how he's a few inches taller and you have to tilt your head back to meet his soft, brown eyes.

"I should probably get down to the rink to set up for practice"

"Oh okay! Don't let me keep you"

"Not at all". His fingers shift to adjust the strap of his hockey bag and your eyes betray you to brush over the ripple of his forearm. He's doing the bare-minimum and your knees are ready to buckle in the middle of the hallway.

"I'll get going then!," you excuse yourself with a curt wave. Turning around, you head briskly for the exit before you can embarrass yourself further and agree to more irrational proposals.

Before your hand could even touch the exit door to let yourself out, reality hits.

Oh no. I have to go to the party.

...

Yuna squeals and pounces you onto your bed as you tell her your updated party-going status. "I can't believe it! You're really gonna go?".

You run a stressed hand through your wavy locks, "I guess? He didn't leave me much of a choice". Rolling around on your bed, your best friend claps and cheers despite your wanting to travel back in time and tell Mark you can't make it. But how were you supposed to say no to that face? Thanks to this, your library study session was far from focused or helpful.

"We gotta get you looking hot, y/n. I mean, you're already hot," Yuna corrects, "but even more hot for your first college party".

Hopping off your now messed-up covers, you go to observe in the full-body mirror all your said 'hotness'. You are currently enveloped in a grouchy oversized tee shirt that you got from a high school choir field trip. To make it hotter, you've distastefully paired it with plain gym shorts hidden underneath. Your hair is especially sexy: frizzy from being air-dried after your shower.

"The only hot I am is a hot mess," you groan. Did you look like this when Mark saw you earlier? Shit.

"Nonsense, silly," Yuna squeezes you from behind, "you're adorable and you'd be surprised how much hair, makeup, and a good fit can change someone". She peers into your eyes eagerly through the mirror as if asking for permission. Truthfully, you're too nervous about the party to deny her, so you give your roommate a reluctant nod. It's probably better that she help you get ready so you could fit in and thus, blend into the background.

Squealing again, Yuna scurries off to flit through her closet for something you can wear.

"Go straighten your hair, y/n!"

"Yes ma'am". This much you can do.

"How's this?". Yuna holds up a skimpy bralette top, its white lace barely covering any surface area at all.

"Where's the rest of it?"

"Okay never mind". Tossing the tiny piece aside, your roommate continues sifting earnestly through her collection of expensive clothes.

You carefully run the straightener over your partitioned hair.

"What about this one?". Yuna emerges from the pile, holding up a simple red crop top. A small notch cuts an inch down the neckline, giving it a little edge, but overall, it looks to be in your comfort zone.

"That's perfect," you smile.

Hair now pin straight and finally smooth, you change into the red top and ripped black denim shorts Yuna picked out for you. Your best friend is undeniably better at makeup than you are, so you let her take the lead once again. The only times you wear full makeup are for performances and you would look like a complete clown if you show up with the two inch eyeliner you knew how to do.

Applying a small amount of base makeup to your face, Yuna goes for a more natural look. Subtle brown eyeshadow and lengthening mascara make your eyes pop just the right amount and a cherry lip balm tint your lips a translucent, shiny red. Even you have to admit your confidence is noticeably boosted from the new look you aren't used to seeing in the mirror.

I'm... kind of pretty

"Aw, honey, you look so beautiful," Yuna coos, wrapping up your makeover with a clap. She does her own makeup effortlessly and puts on the discarded bralette from earlier. However ridiculous it looked on the hanger, she makes it look like a million bucks.

You move to sit on your bed to lace up your trusty white sneakers. Fortunately, Yuna wears a bigger shoe size than you- you're not sure if you could handle wearing any of the daring stiletto pumps in her collection.

"You know, I'm so happy you're going to come tonight. It's really good you're finally opening up to college life". Yuna does up the straps of her heels next to you.

"I would go if I knew how to talk to people," you reason, picking at the dirty aglet of your shoelace, "and I'm honestly really nervous right now. You better not leave me, okay?".

"You're funniest and smartest girl I know- anyone would be lucky to talk to you! I know it's easier said than done, but you'd be surprised what a little confidence can do. And of course, babe, I won't leave you". Yuna gives you a bright, reassuring smile before pulling you off the bed.

You take one last look at your reflection in the mirror.

That's right, confidence. I'm confident. I can do this

"Let's go"