I was probably a million miles outside of my comfort zone.

Let’s go back and review the list. What is my comfort zone? Sex and kissing and bars and drinks. Dancing like a stripper and dressing like one, too. Taking the cash from my clients in repayment for getting them off. Then going back home to my barren house and sleeping and just barely feeding myself before I went back to the brothel. Occasionally going out with my friends and watching them get drunk. Getting tattoos whenever I feel depressed or anxious and silently reveling in the fact that my mother would kill if she ever knew what was happening in my life.

So, more or less, anything but this.

Right then, I was standing stark naked in front of my mirror, my hair still damp from the shower I had stepped out of nearly twenty minutes ago. What was I doing?

Wondering what the fuck I should wear.

I didn’t know where we were going. Should I dress formally? Or casually? Colorfully (if I could manage to find something colorful) or normally? Did I have time to run out and buy something? I probably didn’t, so I guess I’d have to find something to wear in my closet, though most of my choices were all about the same: slutty and black.

I slumped, letting my head hit the cold glass of the mirror as I whispered, “Why the fuck is this so hard?”

She had told me literally yesterday that I could wear whatever the fuck I wanted. Texted me, “you can wear whatever. you’ll look pretty no matter what!” and there I was, panicking about what to wear like every stereotypical girl I’ve ever heard of.

I pivoted on my feet and strode mechanically over to my bed before picking up one of my pillows, bringing it to my face, and screaming bloody murder into it.

Let it drop back to my bed once I had finished and massaged my throat. Turned and went back over to my closet to refocus on this dilemma. I decided to pick my favorite pair of pants that I reserved for days that I went out and didn’t want to look like a hooker. Black cargo pants that were baggy and actually had pockets (unlike most other ladies clothes).

To go with it, I pulled a skin tight black tank top from my drawers and quickly slipped it on once I had my bra strapped on. But when I turned to look at my reflection in the mirror, I began to doubt myself. Did I look too slutty? I was showing a lot of skin.

I’d put a hoodie on top, I decided as my gaze caught on the edge of a box.

I knew this box. It held my high school clothes, mainly my sweaters and hoodies. It had been ages since I’d even seen it, and I was surprised that I still remembered what it held. It had been so long since I’ve worn things from my high school, and they hadn’t even been taken out of the fucking box yet.

I pulled it out and began to go through it. Ripped faded blue jeans, leggings, sweatpants, shorts, and even some skirts. Shirts with designs and logos and rips and band names. I even came across three dresses in total, one a dark red that I felt like I might wear (if I even fit in it anymore).

And at the very bottom was what I was looking for. Cropped sweaters from various tourist towns or colleges, some with stains and some with rips, though most of them were in rather pristine condition. Especially my favorite sweater from my teenage years: a dark red cropped hoodie that was way too over size and had an embroidered black orchid on the front. I came across this at a yard sale in the seventh grade and scraped together all my savings (which, at the time, consisted of six dollars and the two pennies I had in my pocket) and bought it. The lady selling seemed to have taken pity on me and gave it to me for five dollars.

I pulled it on and a shot of nostalgia seemed to flash through my veins. I felt like a young girl all over again, worrying over math homework and trying so hard to find time to practice my fifty dollar flute and even cheaper cello.

I shivered as I remembered all of this, forcing the memories away. I was an adult, now, I had my life together. Besides, Lily would text me the address any second now, so I had to finish getting ready.

So I grabbed some black socks and pulled them on my feet, shoved my phone in my pocket, and slipped my feet into some plain black running shoes. As much as I’d love to, I wouldn’t wear my usual boots tonight. They didn’t work well physically and aesthetically with my cargo pants.

I grabbed the keys from the hook beside the door and left, making sure to lock the door behind me. I wandered down the path towards the sidewalk, my eyes locked on my phone, waiting for her to text the address.

Not a moment later, my phone buzzed in my hand and a notification popped up. She had finally texted me the address: Glass Glory. Actually, I was familiar with the place. It was two streets over from where I lived, nearby all of the community restaurants and stores and shit.

So I picked up my pace and began towards the crosswalk, not even bothering to look either way because what was the point? This was one of the quietest, least populated neighborhoods due to the large houses and yards with the richer couples. It wasn’t close to any schools, either, so no children ever came around here, except for some sparse visitors.

It took barely ten minutes to get to the much more populated town area, and an even less time to spot the white painted facade with the pastel sign in varying colors spell out Glass Glory.

We had agreed to meet at around three in the afternoon, and I still had at least twenty minutes to spare. It was better to be early than late, I guess, so I decided to sit at the nearby cafe as I waited for her.

After a little while, I saw Lily approaching from across the street. She didn’t seem to have seen me yet, so I quickly stood from my seat and sped away from Glass Glory. I’d make it seem like I was a little later than she was so that she didn’t feel bad for being ‘late’ even when I was way too fucking early and she was on time. Fuck, I cared too much about her, didn’t I?

I watched from the corner of the street as she arrived in front of Glass Glory and checked her phone for the time. I did the same. It was two minutes until three, so I started walking back towards her again.

I checked my phone again when I was almost there, just a few feet away, and saw that it was exactly three. I looked back up to see her facing away from me, and I smiled.

I silently watched as she checked her phone again before I lifted a hand and lightly tapped her on the shoulder. Her head shot up so fast, if I had been any closer, she’d have broken my nose. But then she whipped around, her face lighting up before she even saw me.

“Raven!” she exclaimed, her arms flying out to bring me into an embrace.

“Hope I’m not late,” I told her with a light laugh as I brought my own arms around to hug her shoulders against me. I knew I wasn’t. “Did you wait long?” I knew she didn’t.

“No, not at all!” she told me, finally letting go of my waist as I loosened my grip on her shoulders. “Ready?”

“Of course,” I said quietly, a small smile on my face.

Her smile widened so far that I couldn’t help but laugh at her enthusiasm as she took my hand and practically dragged me through the glass doors.

I was very suddenly hit with pastel colors and a gentle atmosphere. Glass jars sat on pale wooden shelves all over the place, filled with glass beads. Pink beads, green beads, blue beads, purple beads. Some jars were sideways, some tilted on stilts, some straight up and down. Some had solid colors, some had glitter beads, some had mixes of colors, and others had layers. The lights that hung from the ceiling were dim-ish, not too bright but still bright enough with their warm illumination. There were murals of abstract pastel things and lots of glass tables and art and so much shit that was so out of my fucking league that I wanted to turn and bolt away.

But I wouldn’t because this was for Lily, and who knew? Maybe this would be nice? At least, that was what I tried to tell myself.

So I stood silently to the side as Lily spoke with the lady behind the counter and checked us in for the reservation she apparently made. She spoke animatedly with the lady until they smiled in goodbye and Lily turned back to me.

“Okay!” she said as she skipped happily back to my side. “Ready to make bracelets?”

I laughed. “Sure,” I told her.

We walked over to one of the glass tables and took a seat on the pastel cushions as the same lady came by with a tray of glass beads of all sorts of colors along with four pieces of thin, elastic string.

“Enjoy,” she told us with a smile as she set down the tray and turned to leave.

“What colors are you going to use?” she asked me as she divided the four strings between us.

I just smiled. “You’ll see.”

She laughed, and I couldn’t help but feel a pang of pain as I realized that this was so much better than I could’ve ever imagined. But it would never, ever last. And that’s what was so painfully sad.

But I shook these thoughts from my head and moved on.

There was a small manual on the table beside the tray as well, so I picked it up and briefly read through it. It seemed to hold weaving patterns to make bracelets with circles or flowers or stars. I chose a simple pattern, just a straight line five beads wide and as many beads it takes to get around the wrist. I decided to make one for Lily.

From what I understood, Lily’s favorite color was white and blue. Those were the only colors she seemed to wear, along with golden accents, so I pulled the tray slightly towards me and scanned it with my eyes.

I decided on a gradient starting with a dark navy blue and gradually becoming brighter until it reaches white. Then I’d add a gold bead before repeating the process backwards. Then another gold and the first pattern again. All the way around until it was the size of her wrist.

It took longer than I thought it was, and a lot more intriguing than I would have thought this activity would have been. It was rather time consuming, however, and it had been nearly a half hour by the time we had both finished (miraculously at the same time) and we smiled at each other as we realized this.

“So, what’d you make?” she asked me, leaning on her palm as she looked up at me with her heart-stopping doe eyes.

I mirrored her, leaning into my own palm as I held the bracelet in my other hand, hidden from view by the tray. “Guess,” I replied with a smirk, and her face twisted into a slight frown as she thought.

“A bracelet?” she guessed, and I could tell she was teasing, so I laughed.

“No shit,” I told her sarcastically as I brought my hand up and above the tray so that she could see. Dropped my hand from under my chin as I opened my palm to show her. “It’s for you,” I told her with a soft smile.

Her own hand dropped from under her chin as she very nearly gaped at my hand. Lifted the hand that had been holding up her head to reach out, looking as if she wanted to take it while also being too scared to touch it. As if her hand might break it, even with the slightest of touch.

“I-it’s… beautiful…” she breathed as I lifted my other hand to take her hesitant fingers, gently twisted her wrist to hold her palm up, and dropped the strung glass beads into her palm. She gasped as the still-warm beads touched her skin, and I quickly dropped her wrist. “Oh… oh my gosh…”

I laughed. “It’s nothing,” I told her, but I could already feel the blush creeping up my face and neck. I’ve never been one to blush, before. Well, not before her.

I watched as she held the bracelet in her hand like it was gold and diamonds and she was so mesmerizing that I felt like I could sit here, watching her, for hours. But then she looked up, awe in her eyes as she looked at me, smiling.

She laughed and picked up her own handmade bracelet. “I made mine for you, too!”

My eyes widened and my jaw slackened a bit. “What? Really?”

She laughed and nodded. “Yeah, I did!” she told me, her eyes just about squinting with how big her smile was.

I watched as she lifted her open palm up to show me a bracelet of the same fucking pattern that I had used, made up of my favorite colors. Black growing gradient into bright blood red and split by silver beads before the pattern goes backwards. Then the silver beads and the first pattern, then the silver beads and the backwards pattern, and so on. It was all the same as mine, just different colors.

“Oh my fuck,” I said with an unbelieving scoff, my eyes wide as I watched her stretch out her arm towards me. I reciprocated, my palm up to take her gift, and it was like a miracle when I felt the still-warm woven glass in my hand. They were so smooth and- and amazing in my hand, on my skin.

I examined it in my hands, and it felt just as graceful and precious as I assumed Lily felt about the bracelet that I had given her. I watched as light sprung off the glass in my hand like tiny flowers leaping from my hand.

I looked up, with my eyes nearly watering, to see her gentle face. She looked like my mother when I had learned a new song on the cello, if my mother looked like a mother. Or acted like a mother. If she even sorta resembled a mother.

I smiled, shaking myself mentally to rid myself of these thoughts as I took the bracelet from the palm of her hand. She frowned momentarily, but then I was taking her wrist in my hand and slipping the bracelet over her thin, dainty fingers until it settled around her wrist.

“It looks so beautiful,” she whispered as we both stared down at it.

“Of course,” I told her, looking up at her face as she continued to stare down at it in awe. “It’s on you.”

Her head snapped up, her face shocked, and then she let out a light laugh. She took the bracelet in my own hand and slipped it onto my wrist.

“It can’t compare to your beauty, either,” she told me under her breath before she met my gaze.

I wanted to kiss her so bad. It felt like her fingers against my skin were conducting electricity from nothing, and fuck, I wanted to ruin her mouth with mine right there.

I coughed to dismiss these thoughts, and I realized she had, too. Her face was bright red as she let go of my hand and I pulled my hand away.

“I-I’m going to make one for my sister,” she said awkwardly.

“I guess I’ll make one for a friend,” I replied.

Neither of us met each other’s gaze. But that was fine, because all of a sudden, I felt like I couldn’t. Like I would burst into flames from the inside if we were to make eye contact. Like my heart would burst from my chest, my mind would spin off into space, and my body would lose control.

And I couldn’t have that. I must always stay in control.

So I picked up the last string, grabbed a few green colored beads, and got to work making a bracelet for Doe. A thanks for always being there for me, especially in my times of need… such as that time…

She’d love a bracelet! I shouted internally at myself to keep myself from falling down that rabbit hole of thoughts. Green as fields of grass and the leaves on summer trees.

I couldn't resist looking up to see Lily’s face, though, just once, and I nearly passed away when I saw her. Her face was so fucking priceless...