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Izzie meeting Logan after school wasn’t strange or unusual. They were all friends after all, that was what Logan was hoping for, and that’s what friends did. They hung out even when they weren’t all forced to go to school for 8 hours a day, usually at Mrs. Castillo’s taco truck.
But Izzie, alone, singling out Logan was.
He hadn’t really hung out with the girl one-on-one, ever. Logan usually clung to Cooper, his best best friend forever (and the most familiar face,) or ended up stuck with Mateo, who would then get all uppity and fussy about not sticking to his plans, how impulsive Logan was, and how if he just hung back for a little longer this time, for sure, Mateo and Z-Blob would’ve figured something out eventually, and—
Izzie was close to her brother (obviously,) familiar with Cooper (also obviously,) and had a secret in with Zoey that he wasn’t jealous of at all, no way (lying.) Logan didn’t fit in easily with her. And that was just fine (it was, it was, it was — not everyone NEEDED to like him, yeah.)
“Logan!” She’d started, somehow appearing at his locker seconds after he’d gotten to it. “You should come to my place after school.”
He blinked. “What? Wait, where’s Coop? Or Matty?”
“I don’t know, probably hanging out or something — I’m here to talk to you!”
“You sure?”
“Yes, you turkey.” Izzie rolled her eyes at his (totally justified!) confusion. “Why wouldn’t I go up to your locker, alone, if I didn’t want to talk with you, alone? I’m inviting you over so we can hang out a bit, if that’s alright with you.”
Logan was still utterly bewildered by this interaction so far, but Izzie needed an answer and he wasn’t gonna keep her waiting. “Uh, sure?”
“Yes!” Izzie cheered. “Come on, get your stuff, let’s go!”
Logan piled the last of his books back in his locker and slammed it shut, before following her out of the school and into the neighborhood surrounding it. Izzie continued to chat as they walked, about her neighbors and what she’d gotten at Mrs. Castillo’s that morning and why she was excited for her next episode of some anime about ninjas to come out. Logan was able to carry on the conversation with her, but she dominated most of it. That was one thing she shared with her brother, Logan mused, once you got her talking it was impossible to get her to stop.
The walk wasn’t that long, only about fifteen minutes, if that. “Right, here’s me.” She said. “Make sure to take off your shoes when you come in.”
He followed her up the stairs to their apartment and through the door, and toed off his tennis shoes as soon as he was inside as instructed.
Logan wasn’t expecting their bedroom to be shared, until he saw Mateo just sitting there, on his own bed, scribbling away on his tablet. Their entire room was split in two, with one side decked out in superhero merch and various different types of pencils and sketchbooks, and the other covered in posters from different anime and mountains of plushies. Both of them had bookshelves to themselves right behind their beds, filled with various knick-knacks and anime figures and even books, too. With so much in it, the room felt small, sure, but also lived in.
“Hey Teo, can you give us the room?”
Mateo finally looked up from his tablet, sliding his headphones off. His dark eyes found Logan first, then his sister, then back to Logan, widening in surprise. “What’s he doing here?”
“I wanted to hang out with him.” Izzie said, simply.
“I thought you’d be with Coop?” Logan asked, feeling a lot more nervous now under Mateo’s gaze.
“He had an ELA project he wanted to get a head start on,” He answered, then turning to his younger sister. “Are you sure I can’t stay in here? I’ll turn up my music really loud, so I won’t be able to hear what you guys are saying.”
Logan was half-inclined to agree, just because he knew what to do when Mateo was around. He might not be his best friend, but—
“Nope! I want dibs on the room! Out to the couch with you!” Izzie chirped, with a dangerous degree of finality.
Mateo groaned, but he stood up and started gathering all his things into a neat stack — sketchbook, pencil bag, tablet, headphones. He stuck out his tongue at Izzie as he passed.
Izzie did the same back until he left, swinging the door shut until just a crack remained. Then she paused, seemingly remembering… “OH! AND TELL DAD THAT I WANT STUFFED PEPPERS TONIGHT!”
“TELL HIM YOURSELF!”
“NO! LOVE YOU!” And Izzie slammed the door, making Logan jump. Then, remembering the other in the room again: “Oh — so sorry about slamming the door! It’s just for dramatic effect.”
Logan blinked. Really, he was surprised there wasn’t more roughhousing — not a noogie in sight. “It’s cool, Izzie, s’cool.”
“Right.” And then the girl pointed at him. “Take a seat! I’ll get the stuff.”
He did as instructed, watching Izzie flit around her room. She hummed an upbeat song as she did, digging through different tubs and boxes until she found an even smaller tub — one that was long and rectangular with a handle. “Violin!”
“Isn’t the instrument the viola?”
“Doesn't matter!” She said, joining him on the bed, setting the item between them. “I…” Izzie paused for dramatic effect, drumming her hands on the sheets. “Am giving you a MAKEOVER!”
“WHAT?”
“What?”
Logan’s face heated up immediately. “I can’t — you can’t — it wouldn’t be right!”
“Wh — ohhh.” Izzie pursed her lips, before dismissing the thought with a shake of her head. “Come on, just this once?”
“No.”
“You know I wouldn’t tell anyone.”
That was true, wasn’t it — WAIT, that was how she got you— “Nope.”
“And I do it with Mateo all the time!”
No, no, no, no, a thousand times no — “You do?”
“Yeah,” She said, puffing her chest out. “He has no choice at all! Also he said he like, didn’t mind, but MORE IMPORTANTLY: NO CHOICE AT ALL.”
“Oh.”
And, silence.
“So…” Izzie started again, playing with a stray curl. “Uh, makeover?”
“Fine. But this is staying between us?”
“Yep.”
“And you’ll take it off right after?”
“Yup.”
“And… you’ll make me look good, right?”
“Of course! Didn’t you see what I did with—“ She stopped suddenly, her face falling. Izzie remained quiet and contemplative, and it was unnerving to him, to say the least, to see the bubbliest, toughest, and loudest girl he knew suddenly so small. “Yeah. I know my way around a couple of palettes.” Her attention fell back to the rectangle between them, and she popped it open, revealing multiple layered shelves full of makeup products that Logan couldn’t even dream of naming if he tried.
He didn’t bother hiding his awe, either. He had the feeling that even if he tried, Izzie would see right through him in an instant. She was good like that.
“Haha, yeah. I have a bit of a hobby… This is my caboodle. I call her Camila, and she keeps all of my supplies: all my concealer, blush, eyeliner…” Izzie went on, pointing and gesturing and even picking up a few items to talk about them more in detail, naming specific colors or collections or palettes that she had. Curiously enough, for all of her stock, she had no red lipstick. (That was like, The Makeup Item , right? Huh.)
“First step — take your hat off.”
“What?”
“What? I need your hair out of the way. Oh — and choose a headband!”
Logan huffed but complied — taking a moment before choosing a bright red crab-themed headband and slipping it on.
“Good taste!” Izzie said, grinning. “Now, I’m gonna start with a blue eyeshadow…” She leaned over him with a palette in one hand and a brush in the other. The sensation of the powder felt strange as she applied it, weird and grainy on his eyelid. She then did his other eye, taking her time and spreading it evenly.
“Now I’m going to put on a shadow in this darker blue and then a purple… are we thinking Cerulean Crunch or Ultramarine Explosion?”
“Cerulean Crunch.” Logan answered immediately. “Is it candy-themed or someth’n?”
“Yup! There's one called Cinnamon Blast, uh, another is Green Apple Crush, and this one just says Cantaloupe. In all caps.” She nodded, grabbing another brush. Logan closed his eyes again as she continued to work. Izzie narrated what she was doing, keeping her brush strokes slow and even.
It was when she picked up the first eyeliner — a deep midnight blue — that she spoke about something non-makeup related again. “Your friend from the Nightmare King’s army. What was their name?”
Logan’s breath hitched — something very tight suddenly seizing in his chest, like a fist had clenched itself around his windpipe. “Uh. Sneak.” He breathed out.
“Sneak,” Izzie agreed.
“Yeah. He was kind of weird, with paws and big ears, and he stole my hat and everything.” Logan tugged on his hoodie sleeve, short nails scraping the tough fabric. “When I was captured by the Nightmare King, he helped me… uh—“
He didn’t need to elaborate any further, Izzie just nodded simply. “I’m happy you had someone there! When, when, we couldn’t be…”
He shrugged. “It’s no big deal! It’s already happened, and it’s over, and I’m totes over it.”
Izzie hummed nonchalantly.
“Seriously! I’m already over it. It’s cool. I’m cool. Just one more reason to defeat the Nightmare King.”
“Oh yeah.” Izzie put the first eyeliner down and reached for the next, a pinkish-orange. “I think we’re getting closer and closer to defeating that turkey. And he’s scared of us, because we’re getting so good at dream-crafting!”
He sighed. “Yeah, sure. All of us.”
“Yep, all of us! Now, hold still.” Izzie brought her unoccupied hand up to tilt his head up again, and she resumed her work. “I just wanted to let you know that you — you don’t have to be alone. I mean, I know it sounds cheesy, but we’re all here for you, y’know? It isn’t easy, losing someone, I know.”
“You know?”
She stopped for a moment to take a deep breath in, then exhaled slowly. “Yeah. With Jim, and with Mr. Sharkyjaw, too.”
Jeez, he’d almost forgotten about Pillow’s Peak. The knot in his chest was back. “That was the yeti, right?”
“Mr. Yeti was his father, yeah.” Izzie said, smiling. Then, she jolted, sitting straight suddenly. “Oh, that reminds me! Glitter. He was all about glitter.”
“He was a good yeti.”
“He was,” She sighed. “So was your friend.”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah.”
They sat there in silence after that, but for once it didn’t feel uncomfortable or awkward. It was just quiet, almost delicate. Logan kept his eyes closed. Izzie continued to work.
“And… Glitter!” She finally said, running a final brush over his face. “I’m done! You can open your eyes now.”
Logan opened his eyes for the first time in what felt like hours (it had been, at most, twenty minutes.) He pulled out his headband and shook out his head a couple of times, letting his hair settle back into its normal shape.
Izzie brought up a mirror, and Logan stared at his reflection, ghosting a hand over her handiwork. “Oh.”
Izzie’s brows twitched upwards. “Oh?”
“It’s uh, different.” He leaned in closer, tracing the shapes in the mirror. True to what she’d said she was working on, it was mostly eye makeup — base eyeshadow a deep, saturated blue that faded into a purple on its edges. He had multicolored eyeliner, with dark purply-blue (blurple?) making the majority of his wings’ shape, with highlights of orange and white. There were even little spots of white all throughout, little circles and triangles and star shapes. To top it all off, his face was coated in glitter that sparkled as he tilted his face ever so slightly back and forth. “I think… I think this is pretty good.”
Instantly, Izzie’s face lit up. “You do?”
“Yeah. The uh… colors. The colors look good.”
Izzie laughed. “Thank you, Logan. I am so so, SO HAPPY you like it!” The girl blinked and her face relaxed a little — still smiling, but no longer ecstatic. “You can uh, take it off now. Makeover’s finished now, you’re dismissed and all that…”
And oh. The ball was in Logan’s court now. Sure, he could go home, and — he quietly checked the time on his phone — game for forty more minutes, or… “Nah. I gotta be home by six, and I’m not really looking to start on my homework just yet.”
“Well, I still have the room ‘til then, soooo—“ Izzie thought for a moment, before raising her phone up. “You wanna check out some sick tracks? I have some really cool vocaloid songs that are kinda EDM-techno-dance-y, if you’re interested?”
Logan tapped his hands on Izzie’s comforter excitedly, wiggling around to grab his headphones. “DUDE! I am always ready for some sick beats! Hit me with ‘em!”