“Can you believe my dad actually wrote this?” You and Amerie were hanging out at Darren’s house. Amerie was helping you prepare for your first date with Sasha tonight, while Darren read, mimicking in a deep voice. “Grease. Long hair. The throbbing motorcycle and the open road beyond. Her flannel shirt whips him like an animal. Clinging on for dear life.”

Amerie chucked as Darren read, kneeling beside you on the floor as she glued false eyelashes to your eyelids.

“How does a flannel shirt whip someone like an animal?” You spoke up, confused on the wording.

“It’s poetry, boo.” Amerie replied, getting ready to stick the last lash on.

Darren paused, setting down the sheets of paper they were readying to crouch beside Amerie, their tone filled with worry for you. “Hey. Are you sure about this?”

Amerie held you chin gently to keep you still as she applied the lashes, gently tapping your eyelids to make them stick. Darren watched in concern, knowing you were sensitive to new textures and feelings. But if you wanted to try it, they weren’t going to stop you.

“Yeah, I want to do it.” You waited patiently as Amerie finished, waiting for the glue to set. She let out a small hum, tilting your head to the side to make sure the false eyelashes were sitting right. “Open.”

You opened your eyes, squinting slightly from the harsh light as you had them closed for so long. Both Amerie and Darren watched your reaction carefully, chuckling as you smiled.

“How you feeling?” Amerie asked, gently brushing some hair away from your face.

You paused, thinking as you tried to figure out how you felt. It was a weird feeling, the glue coating your eyelids, the lashes so long they brushed the skin above your eyes. You grimaced at the sensation, your hands itching to rip them off. “No. No, get them off. Get them off.”

You got more worked up, stressing at the feeling. Darren rested a hand on your shoulder, keeping you still as Amerie sat up, gently tugging at the lashes.