The Blackrock Twins

Wendi

Wendi blew on her nails and cursed the slow drying silver sparkle nail polish under her breath. It has been so long since she had bothered with self-care, she had forgotten how time-consuming it was to dress up. As she watched the minutes on the clock tick by, she kicked herself. She was going to be late.

Her life has been so busy lately she had resigned her days to the sloppy student look. The no makeup, logo heavy sweatshirts and simple jeans motif had inadvertently become her norm. After four years of working on her double major at the university, she had lost patience with the tedious and mundane things. She had finished her last final this morning and she was officially free. It was definitely time to celebrate.

She frowned into the mirror and felt almost hopeless about her current hair. After spending so long in her go-to long lazy girl ponytail, her curly red locks seemed to have developed a mind of their own. Taming them into a deep side part had felt like it had taken forever. But even she had to admit her knee length purple party dress complimented her hair perfectly.

Wendi blew out a irritated breath and tried to remember that tonight was supposed to be about relaxing and having a good time. Now that classes were over, it was finally time to get back to the business of having a life. Maybe even dare she say it, have a little bit of fun. She mentally rolled her eyes at herself. Club night with her friends seemed like a good idea hours ago.

Before she really had time to completely overthink her outfit, her phone dinged. Wendi didn’t even have to check to know it was a text from her besties. Wendi grabbed her pale gray cardigan from the hook on the back of her bedroom door and made a beeline to the front door. She hopped from foot to foot while slipping on her silver strappy sandals. She took one last look around the small one-bedroom apartment and sighed.

She was almost through the door when she remembered her purse. She quickly turned and grabbed the wristlet from the top of the half bookcase. She shook off the worst of the dust and dropped her phone, driver license, and debit card inside. As she zipped it closed, she again tried to remember whatever had possessed her to agree to girls’ night in the first place.

Wendi heard the familiar honk of Charlotte’s little blue sedan. She quickly locked her door and scrambled down the stairs to her normally empty assigned parking spot. She didn’t even look up as she rushed to the passenger side of the car. She knew instinctively that the only car that ever occupied the space was the beater that the girls affectionately had named the “wee beastie” because it sometimes let off a weird growl when Charlotte presses the accelerator to the floor.

“Sorry,” Wendi said breathlessly as she climbed into the car. She pushed old takeout boxes, crumbled notebook pages and a few texts books out of her seat as she buckled her seat belt. She didn’t have to glance up to know that her friend was giving her a once over. She sat in silence to see if Charlotte approved of her attire.

“You look great,” Charlotte said with a genuine smile. “I don’t think I have seen you in that dress before.”

Wendi shrugged. “Goodwill, yesterday after my psychology final. It occurred to me that morning that I had absolutely nothing appropriate to wear dancing.

Charlotte laughed, “Sweetheart, you have nothing appropriate to wear ever. The first thing we're doing next week is taking you shopping. I never want to see you in a gray ratty sweatshirt or those horrible mom jeans things ever again!”

Wendi wanted to argue but she knew it would be pointless. Mostly because Charlotte was a fashion major and felt that Wendi’s wardrobe was an affront and embarrassment. Making sure her friends looked good was a matter of personal pride to Charlotte. Wendi also knew she was hoping to start interviewing for a grown-up job soon. She knew if she wanted to land a top spot, she would have to look the part.

Charlotte rolled her chocolate brown eyes as she watched Wendi argue with herself. She tossed her dark hair over her shoulder and ran her hand down her black bodycon dress. Charlotte slipped off her blue suede pumps so she could comfortably drive. She put the car into reverse and pulled out into the street. Traffic was fairly light, and she knew they would make good time.

“Maybe if you stop dressing like an old lady, you might find a man. You could discover you actually like dating. You can’t use the I’m too busy with school excuse forever, girl. Christy piped up from the back seat.

Wendi looked over her shoulder and gave Christy an icy glare. Despite her annoyance, Wendi had to admit her friend looked great. Christy had slicked back her blonde bob and added huge silver hoop earrings that made her steel grey eyes sparkle. Her perfect curves were accentuated by her strapless red dress and her three-inch heels made her legs look a mile long.

She glanced over at her friend Kami that was seated next to Christy. Wendi could tell from her furrowed brow that Kami had decided it better not to weigh in on this discussion. Wendi appraised her gothic corset top and leather pants. Her pink and black hair covered her shoulders, and she wore a studded choker.

“Sometimes life just isn’t fair” Wendi thought. Her friends were so beautiful, and she always felt like she looked out of place with them. She wasn’t thin and athletic looking like Charlotte. She didn’t look exotic and dangerously fun like Kami. Nor was she tall and curvy like Christy. Wendi was average height, with a figure that she considered more to love. She had a round face, brown eyes so dark they looked black and a little round ball nose. Most people referred to her as the “cute” friend which she didn’t really consider a compliment at all.

“Dogs are cute. Puppies are Cute, people should not be cute.” Wendi grumbled, as she grimaced at her reflection in the side view mirror.

“You are so random sometimes,” Kami frowned. Wendi was never quite sure what was going on in Kami’s head and she wasn’t sure she actually wanted to know.

“But I guess that’s why we love you. I do suggest you finish telling yourself off before we get to the club. You don't actually want people thinking you're either crazy or extremely drunk, do you?”

Wendi scowled and decided to change the subject. “Where are we headed anyway?"