Page 14 of Jessica Beam is a Hot Mess
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I spend ages restraightening my hair extensions before backcombing extensively at the top and pulling it all into a tight, high ponytail. Then I attach two pairs of fake eyelashes and do some glittery gold eyeliner so that my eyes stand out behind my specs.
In the bathroom, I change into my new silky jumpsuit, feeling a little flutter of pleasure as the cold, smooth material skims its way across my body. I’m quite short at five foot three, but it makes me look at least an inch taller. I spin round in the mirror. All the running and partying I’ve been doing recently has eradicated the little beer belly I’ve been carrying around for the past few years. I look pretty good, actually − I think the word is lithe. And I reckon jumpsuits suit me! Maybe when I move to some exotic country I’ll buy more silk jumpsuits in all different colours. Summer is always going on about ‘signature looks’. Could jumpsuits be my signature look? Jumpsuit Jess? ‘Here comes Jumpsuit Jess,’ people would say. ‘Now the party canreallystart.’
‘Ta-da!’ I sing as I leave the bathroom. ‘I’m blummin’ uncomfortable because my thong keeps riding up my arse,but… ’ I twirl round and do jazz hands in the mirror.
‘Oh! You look different.Yay!’ Summer scoops the wine glasses up from the bedside table. ‘Super awesome. Let’s finish this wine − we need to get going.’ She strides forward on her high heels and holds one glass-carrying hand out to me. I reach to take it from her when somehow, suddenly, the wine glass is out of her hands −
‘Fuuuuck!’
And its contents are on my brand-new jumpsuit.
Shit! Did Summer trip up? No. She’s perfectly upright. How did … ?
‘Oh dear!’ Summer says, carefully putting down the other wine glass on the coffee table and grabbing a facial wipe from her make-up bag. ‘I’msucha klutz!’
‘What are you talking about? You’re the least klutzy person on earth. What the heck?’
‘I think there was something on the carpet. I totally stumbled over something. Sorreeeee!’
Summer dabs frantically at the wine now dripping off my arm and spreading into a violent-looking stain across my silk-covered abdomen. I look like an extra in a prom-based horror movie.
‘Oh dear.’ Summer repeats. ‘It’s not coming out. Red wine just does not come out. Soooo annoying.’
Shit!
I jog to the bathroom, strip off the jumpsuit and run it under the tap, rubbing furiously at the fabric with a towel. Nothing happens. The stain sits there stubbornly.
‘I need to call the taxi now!’ Summer informs me worriedly. ‘You’re going to have to put something else on quickly or we’ll be late. I’m really sorry, sweetpea.’
I feel a lurch in my stomach. I don’t know why I’m even bothered about it. It’s just clothes, after all.
I pick up today’s floral 90s dress from the corner of the bedroom where I flung it earlier. This will have to do.
‘You can’t wear that again!’ Summer barks, tapping the cab number into her mobile. ‘Valentina already saw it!’
‘She seemed to like it before.’ I yank it over my head. ‘It’ll be all right.’
Summer stalks over and tugs on it with a grimace. ‘It smells a bit, J.’
I give it a sniff. She’s right. The Febreze has worn off and the original damp mothbally smell is now evident. It stinks.
‘But I have nothing else!’
Summer frowns and squints her eyes like she’s thinking really hard. I don’t know what genius plan she thinks she’s going to come up with. The only other choice of outfit I have is—
‘Onesie!’ Summer breathes as if it’s the most obvious idea ever to generate in a brain. ‘You could wear one of your new onesies.’
‘A onesie?’ I screw my face up. I know bugger all about clothes, and I do love onesies, obviously, but I’m pretty sure that they’re not suitable garb for posh literary bashes. ‘Nah. I don’t think so, Summer … ’
‘Just hear me out!’ she urges. ‘It’ll be so cool. A onesie is kind of like a jumpsuit when you really think about it. You can roll up the legs and still wear your new high heels. With all your hair and make-up, so … glam, it’ll look super fresh. Totally.’
Hmmm. I suppose theyarereally nice onesies … and really very comfortable …
‘Ooh, ooh,’ Summer continues, opening the Primark bag by my bed. ‘You could wear those new spangly pink feather earrings too!’
‘You didn’t like those when we were in the shop.’
