by HR Moore
*****
Anita and Cleo sat by the river; Anita had been to work at the Observatory, but Bas had been so down in the dumps that she’d left early. She wasn’t sure if it was the conversation she’d had with him, the energy, or both, but she couldn’t bear to be around him when he was so depressed.
‘So I told Bas it wasn’t going to happen,’ Anita said absentmindedly, looking down at the river.
‘You did?’ Cleo turned to look at her, amazed. ‘I didn’t think you’d ever get round to finally doing that. At least that explains why he’s been in such a bad mood over the last few days.’
‘I hope that’s not the only reason.’
‘Why else?’
‘The energy,’ Anita responded simply. Neither Anita nor Cleo knew in any exact way what that meant, but they knew whatever effects the recent energy downturn would have, they would almost certainly not be good. ‘And I’m going to need your help.’
That comment practically put Cleo into shock. Anita rarely needed help from anyone, or she didn’t admitted that she did anyway. ‘Go on.’
‘Getting ready for the ball.’
Cleo’s reaction was immediate and as Anita expected, totally disproportionate. ‘Oh my Gods. No. Really? With Marcus?!’ Anita nodded, throwing Cleo an indulgent look. Cleo grabbed her and hugged her excitedly. ‘This is too exciting,’ she squealed. ‘So we need to get you a dress, and work out what you’re going to do with your hair, and your make-up, have you thought about make-up? And jewellery, and what about shoes? How high can you go? How much taller is Marcus than you?’
‘Um, well, he’s definitely taller than me,’ she said, reliving a flashback to the encounter by the river; she had had to look up at him to meet his eyes. ‘I’m, what, 5 foot 10? So he must be at least 6 foot 2?’ Anita supposed.
‘Yep, that sounds about right,’ said Cleo. ‘All the Descendants are tall, apart from bitch-face obviously, the good genes clearly skipped her generation. So, ridiculous heels it is then and I’m taking you shopping. You need something spectacular to wear, and I’ll get my hairdresser to do your hair. We need all the help we can get in that department,’ said Cleo, eyeing Anita’s almost shoulder length dark hair suspiciously. It would definitely pose more of a challenge than Cleo’s long, silky, black tresses, but some kind of up-do would work. ‘So, sky high shoes, hair up, subtle makeup I think, floor length dress…’
‘…everyone will be in floor length dresses,’ Anita laughed.
‘Just clarifying, in case you get some crazy idea in your head and go shopping without me.’
‘I see,’ said Anita. ‘Well I’ll leave it to you, my style guru. Just don’t tell anyone who I’m going with, okay?’
Cleo was going to ask why, but realised she knew perfectly well, so left it. ‘Okay, deal. We can go shopping tomorrow. This is too exciting for words,’ she said again, giving Anita another quick squeeze.