Noelle, done with the eyeshadow, moved on to my eyebrows.

Now able to open my eyes again, I could see the concentrated furrow between her brows, her tongue poking out just slightly between her teeth. It shouldn’t have been as endearing as it was.

After mascara and a shiny lip gloss had followed, I asked,

“Why are you doing this? Giving me a makeover, I mean?”

“Because that’s what I always do,” Noelle said. “Whenever I feel like crying, I just cake my face with makeup. My mascara’s too expensive for that shit.”

“But you’re okay with wasting it on me?”

“It’s not a waste if it makes you feel better.”

“It does,” I whispered.

Noelle leaned back slightly to see if my brows were even. I hoped that, in the low light, she didn’t notice the way my cheeks heated up under her intent gaze. Next, she picked up some blush. “Smile for me?”

The question in itself made my lips curve upward. Noelle chuckled and gave the apples of my cheeks as well as my nose a generous powdering.

“This is the best part,” she then said and picked up a tiny container filled with shimmery powder.

I let out something that sounded embarrassingly close to a giggle when she used her finger to dab a little bit of the shiny highlighter on the tip of my nose.

Smiling, she leaned back to study her finished work. “There, all done.”

“Can I see?”

She picked up the little hand mirror next to her and held it up for me. I almost gasped when I caught a glimpse at my reflection. On most days, I rarely wore more than mascara and foundation, but under Noelle’s hands, I had transformed into something dainty and free of imperfection. I wondered briefly if this was how she viewed me, in soft colors and shimmery glitter.

“Do you like it?”

“I do,” I said, raising a hand to my cheek. “It looks . . . pretty.”

Noelle slowly put the mirror down again. “It does.”

“Too bad I have to take it off again.”

“I can do it for you,” Noelle offered. “I mean, if you want.”

My heart stuttered through a few beats. “Only if that’s okay for you.”

“Sure. I’m gonna get the makeup remover.” Noelle slipped off the bed.

I released a long exhale as soon as the bathroom door fell shut behind her, closing my eyes for a moment. This didn’t feel real.

I was sure at any moment I was going to wake up and realize this couldn’t possibly be happening, that there was no way that Noelle Daniels was comforting me after a bad dream, not like this, with soft music playing in the background and the room drenched in the glow of the fairy lights above my bed.

But then the door opened and she stepped out with a package of makeup remover wipes in hand and everything shifted into harsh focus again.

Sitting down in front of me, one of her knees pressed against mine, she wordlessly got to work. Her touch was just as gentle as it had been earlier, the palm of her hand warm against my cheek while the other took off my makeup and coaxed my usual self back to the surface.