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Gram fell back on Nuch’s bed and stared at the ceiling, at how the soft fairy lights painted it in patterns that looked like lace. It was the same bed where they’d made love, an eternity ago. Maybe even on these same sheets. He’d been here so many times since that it didn’t cross his mind anymore.
“I’ll never be feminine or pretty like those girls,” Nuch said to no one in particular, and definitely not toward Gram’s direction.
But Gram was the only other person in her room, so he took it upon himself to half-sit up and answer.
“Come on, now,” he teased, leaning in close to her, “You just want me to tell you how cute you are when you sulk.”
Then again. Nuch did get genuinely insecure sometimes. Everyone did, once in a while. But Nuch would never confess anything as vulnerable as that outright, and it was all about bickering and complaining back and forth for several hours until she had either beat him in a debate or lost in a way that taught her how to defeat him next time that she felt somewhat better. Then again, Gram wasn’t much different from that. Maybe that was why he was still here, in his ex’s bedroom, who wasn’t his ex anymore but
His best friend.
Or something close to that.
“How about you let your hair down for a while,” he said and leaned forward, reaching for the back of Nuch’s neck while she whined in protest, but did nothing to stop him. Gram found her hair tie and pulled it gently down along the silky run of her hair and then held her skull to bring the mane of her hair forward and let it frame her face.
“Here. Not pretty. Beautiful.”
“Shut up.”
“Hey, I’m just saying! You’re not going to feel any better if you stay here in your pyjamas all night and cry!” he gestured around the room for emphasis, and then, in a different voice he said, “I can help.”
“Stop.”
“I can he-eeelp,” he said in a sing-song voice now.
“Go away, Gram,” she said and tried to turn her back to him, but it was playful. Gram caught the grin at the corners of her mouth as she tried to steer her face away.
“I can help,” he sang again. “I’m good with hai-iir. You always liked how I did your hai-iiir,” he reminded her, always singing. The way she had half-turned her back to him made it easy to reach for her hair, softly tangle his fingers in it and massage her scalp.
“Ugh, Gram, you’re always such a pain in the ass.”
“I’m your pain in the ass.”
“Yes, my ass.”
“Your pain. I’m the pain you chose.”
“I would never choose you! I wish I could get rid of you!”
“No, you don’t. Get the curling iron already. Or are you too comfortable sitting here and getting a head massage by the pain in the ass for the rest of the night?”
This got her to move, at last. She shoved him away (Gram fell back into the bed giggling) and Nuch got up, looking around her drawers for the iron. She really was beautiful. In the soft light, with her hair down, a baggy hoodie on (didn’t that use to be his? Wait a minute, he’d been looking for that one for months—) and absolutely no armor, she really was beautiful.
When the iron was hot enough Gram put the tea they made in the meanwhile down and curled a strand of Nuch’s hair around it.
“Don’t burn my scalp.”
“When have I ever burned your scalp?”
“How convenient of you to forget! Of course you have. You’ve forgotten all about the time when we were together, haven’t you?”
“Babe. I could never. I remember it now! But you need to remember, it was my first time curling hair ever!”
“You told me you knew how to do it!”
“I lied to impress my girlfriend!”
“I was impressed!”
“You were?”
“Impressed by the mess you made!”
“Ouch. Baby, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t call me baby. I’m not your baby anymore. I could be. But you simply don’t want me.”
Gram rolled his eyes. It was like that with them, and so it went on, back and forth and back again while he worked on the rest of Nuch’s hair.
“You simply want someone else. A prettier girl.”
“I don’t want another girl, I promise you.”
To that, Nuch said nothing because she knew – or suspected – no, she knew, she had to know – how Gram felt for another boy, and that was a subject she would not breach.
After the last strand cascaded down her face, now in thick waves, Gram stood behind her and held her shoulders and, in the mirror, her gaze.
“Hm? Is this good enough for an amateur ex-boyfriend?”
Nuch didn’t say anything at first. They hadn’t done her hair in a long time; she hadn’t done anything with it except pull it back every day and now they both stared at her face framed by dark waves, shiny and luscious.
“Shut up,” Nuch said at last and Gram grinned.
“Ready to go!”
“Wait, I still haven’t done my face yet!”
“What? Come on, you don’t need makeup!”
“Are you really so sexist you’d tell a woman what she does and doesn’t need?”
“Does it matter? This woman never listens anyway!”
But he fell back on his back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling again while Nuch worked on her face. He crawled closer to the side of the bed by the dresser and rolled over to his belly.
“Put that down,” Nuch spat, side-eyeing him as he reached for a tube of – something. But she didn’t slap his hand away, so Gram figured it was safe to turn it over in his hands, inspect it.
“What’s this?”
“Mascara. Can you not read?”
“What’s this?”
“Eyeshadow.”
“Pretty.”
Later, he sat cross-legged on the bed facing the wall until Nuch told him to turn. And he turned to find her standing there in a black top and black leather skirt. She held her platform booties up to indicate that would be the shoewear to complete the fit.
Gram couldn’t hold the corners of his mouth still.
“What do you think?” she asked.
Beautiful he wanted to say.
“Don’t you think the crop top shows off too much skin?” he said instead.
“You are such a misogynist. I worry about the future of our nation if people like you are allowed to study law. Not that you stand a chance at graduating, thankfully. You probably failed the last quiz at law of the sea.”
“We studied for that together so if I failed you’re coming down with me.”
“No, really. Should I change?”
There was easily another hour to be wasted there, Nuch trying on different outfits and working herself into a frenzy.
“Nah, you look beautiful, let’s go,” Gram said very fast. “I’ll be by your side the whole night long so you don’t have to worry about impressing anyone,” he said, getting up and patting his clothes to straighten them.
Nuch gave him a judgmental once-over. He was in a usual Gram getup consisting of jeans and a baggy t-shirt.
“People won’t even know we’re together,” Nuch said, but accepted the arm he offered to her at the doorstep anyway. “I’m way too out of your league.”
“That’s why you left me after all, isn’t it?” Gram sighed and got his head playfully shoved in response.
And then they went out to meet their other friends.