118.)

Sure enough, my mom's car was in the driveway. It was only six, but the sun was already down and the sky was growing dark. Blossom's headlights lit my shoveled driveway. It wasn't snowing, but two inches were still stuck to the grass.

Blossom and I spent an exceedingly normal afternoon together. We spent that gift card I got in my present box on some diapers at ABUniverse. Their sizes terrified me. After the whole Megamax fiasco, I wasn't sure if I was a Large or an Extra Large.

That was the first time in a while I went to the beach house without wearing a diaper at all, and I wasn't thrilled about it. This Becky girl was really getting in my way... I wondered what kind of hypothetical scenarios I could use to get rid of her. I could go digging around her room while we were at the sorority house, and I would find the diapers in her closet. She'd walk in just as I was snapping a photo. In a panic, she'd try to take the phone away from me, but I'd already have the picture ready to send to the whole campus. Unless she did everything I said, I'd just have to show everyone her shameful little secret.

But espionage was never a talent of mine; I didn't have the confidence for it. If anything, she'd wind up blackmailing me. Yeah, that sounded like a more believable story.

When Blossom got out of the driver's seat, she moved so quickly that it was clear how excited she was for this party. When she stepped up the stoop to Amy's front door, she had a little metal case in one hand, and was holding her pretty dress on a hanger in the other, with a bag over her shoulder with everything else she'd need.

I had texted my mom in advance to let her know, and by advance I mean five minutes out. So when I opened the door and stepped inside, my mom wasn't surprised to see us. She was, however, surprised to see Blossom without a coat.

"Really?" my mom said, maybe more exasperated than I'd seen her in a long time. "You don't have something both fashionable and warm, Blossom?"

While that went on, I took off my coat - clearly purchased by my mom for warmth - and hung it by the door.

"I'd say I don't feel the cold, but I do. It just makes my skin look pink and awesome and you know what they say about beauty being pain, right?" She laughed that self-assured Blossom laugh and smiled diplomatically.

"Hypothermia is not attractive," my mom said sharply, paraphrasing something I swore I'd said to Blossom already. "You're lucky Christmas has passed, or you'd be getting another present from Amanda."

Another, because my Aunt Patty told her I was making her a string bracelet. It was nice having some free time at work, but it really did have a lot of crossover with my personal life.

"You're going to a party?" my mom asked. I nodded.

"Blossom's sorority is throwing it."

"Are you going to be drinking?" my mom asked. You know, since I'm twenty years old, and it's not legal.

"Maybe?" I said honestly. I'd probably bottom to peer pressure and have a terrible beer.

"Don't drive," my mom said. "I'll pick you up if you need it."

"Oh, don't worry. I've got a room at the sorority and I expect Amy will spend the night there, won't you cupcake?" Blossom flexed the arm holding her dress. "Come on, let's go to your room so we can get ready."

Blossom led the way up the stairs and I caught my mom's glance. She mouthed the word without saying it:

"Cupcake?"

I rolled my eyes and followed Blossom to my room.

My room was predictably very lame. It had been my room since I was eight or nine; we didn't move around a lot. The walls were peppered with little holes where I'd both hung up and taken down a colossal number of posters, artworks, and random jpegs I had printed off on printer paper. The only things that were still hanging up were pictures on my cork board, a peg shelf with a handful of random accessories - bracelets, hair stuff, whatever - and a painting my mom made when I was in middle school. The painting was of a walled-off town, a sky of feathers, and a sun shaped like a pistachio. It wasn't a particularly good painting, but she made it because we watched an anime together that we both really liked.

Other than my walls, I had a queen-sized bed that took up most of the room, a dresser that was splattered with drops of nail polish, and a desk I absolutely never used - evident by the lack of a chair. A large wall-hanging mirror was not hanging on the wall, but instead propped up on the desk like a very tall vanity. I only ever used it to look at myself in diapers; the mirror in the bathroom had better lighting.

Then I had a closet. It wasn't big, but it was big enough.

"Your room is so cute," Blossom said. "You know when movies wanna make a room look like a teenage girl grew up there? They never get it right, but this? This is perfect. It feels a bit like hallowed ground if I'm being honest though, because I know you wrote a lot of what I love while in this room."

Blossom set her dress down on the bed, and then held up her makeup case in a gesture.

"Where's your bathroom? I mean, I don't expect you to know, but maybe you could guess?"

"Keep it down," I said with a sigh, more exhausted than annoyed. Already, the cupcake thing was something I would have to explain. I had already told my mom that Blossom was just like that sometimes, that she did things outside the bounds of social convention and there wasn't really any way to stop it. I opted not to tell her that I didn't mind Blossom's nickname for me.

"Bathroom is down the hall, first left. It's not huge, but it has good lighting and a lot of counter space."

"Perf. You figure out what you're gonna wear; I'm gonna do my makeup."

Blossom was late in her life to the makeup train; in middle school a lot of girls were already very good at it and she had to learn from scratch. Maybe that was why she insisted on becoming so good at it: because she had to make up - hah! - for lost time. She set her silver case down on the bathroom counter, turned on the lights, opened the window, and went to work.

I was dressed in ten minutes. I had a nice button up shirt I would wear to family functions. It actually looked good on me, even with my less-than-ideal boobs-to-stomach ratio. I put on jeans, but nice jeans. Dark blue, tight on my body. They were a little uncomfortable, especially on my upper thighs, but they were thinning. Then I ran a brush through my hair; that took the longest. It was still wavy and unkept, but it wasn't knotted. All in all, with my glasses on my face, I probably looked like the 2020s version of a nerd. That is to say, kind of cool.

It took Blossom about a half hour to do her makeup; she didn't do anything evening specific because a) this wasn't some stuffy formal event and b) it wouldn't have gone well with her dress. But she did use a lot of glitter, and her lipgloss looked sticky and sweet like cupcake frosting. Her eyelids were in matching shades of pastel gradients out to match her dress, and she'd drawn fake freckles under one of her layers of powder which really accentuated the kind of faerie princess look she was going for. Paired with her Selkie dress, she knew she was going to look really good. She came back down the hall to Amy's room to get changed into the aforementioned dress, and was surprised to find that she was not in her bedroom.

Maybe she was with her Mom? No matter, Blossom was excited to see her reaction to the full ensemble anyway. This only added to the surprise.

"I think she likes you," my mom said. She was sipping cocoa that she made in the microwave.

"Blossom likes everyone," I said flatly, sipping a cup of my own.

"I mean, ya know."

"I know what you meant," I told her. "She likes everyone like that."

"Including you?" my mom asked.

"Probably," I muttered behind my mug. If my mom mentioned it, I'd blame the pinkness in my cheeks on the heat from the cocoa.

"Well, I like her," my mom said, which was her way of giving a blessing.

"I'll keep that in mind, should Blossom and I ever take our relationship to the next level." What was the next step after changing each others' diapers? Pressing the buttons of our pacifiers together in lieu of kissing? Okay, I could probably get behind that.

"I just want you to be happy. And I haven't seen you date anyone in a while."

"I haven't seen you date anyone in a while," I shot back.

"Hmm... I wonder how correlated those two things are."

Damn. I walked right into one of my mom's psychology traps. But maybe she had a point. I didn't really know a whole lot about sex or dating. I mean, I had the internet. But when it came to watching healthy relationships at close range? I didn't have a lot to model off.

"Do you like her?" my mom asked. We had established the opposite, but that was a better question.

"I... don't know," I said honestly. "I like being around her. But if people were pie, a slice of her would fill me up for the rest of my life. And a slice of me would make a really great appetizer."

My mom nodded. She understood my metaphor; she usually did. I thought she would argue with me - say something about how remarkable I am, or that nobody compares to me - but I think she knew I'd just take it as a platitude. One of those things a mom says to her daughter. So instead, she said:

"I am both flattered and concerned by how much you take after me."

When Blossom finished getting dressed - her faerie-like makeup, her hair in an up-do with little strands of bangs framing each side of her face, with the Selkie dress and white fishnets and shiny white single buckle shoes - she couldn't help but give herself a little fist-bump in the mirror because she loved when a visual in her head translated so well to real life. She adjusted the hem of her dress, checked herself from several different angles, and then futzed with her hair a little more, before she was finally happy with how she looked. Then she set out to find Amy and her Mom in the living room.

"Daaaamn, you look cute as heck!" Blossom said about Amy before Amy had a chance to say anything about Blossom. "I love the hipster-chic; it totally works for you babes~"

My mom had to blink a few times to believe it, but sure enough Blossom Brixley looked like a cross between a magical fairy in a smutty webcomic, a porcelain ballerina that lived inside a music box, and a Barbie doll complete with unrealistic proportions. On another note, she sure as hell didn't look like a baby. It was probably the makeup, or the fact that her hair was up. Or the shoes. Or the lack of a diaper. Well, I couldn't be sure about the last one, but put me behind her on a staircase and I sure could be.

"Wow."

"Very wow," I said, echoing my mom, but in a much less impressed tone. Truth be told, I was really getting used to seeing Blossom look like a supermodel. That being said, she really did look incredible. I was underdressed.

Blossom clapped her hands, pleased with herself.

"Come on, let me do your makeup," Blossom said to Amy. "Nothing major, just some eye stuff; you'll love it, I promise."

"Pass," I said with a wave of my hand.

"Pleeeaaaaase!" Blossom whined.

Suddenly I remembered why she looked like such a baby the night before in that very same dress.

"I'd rather not meet your friends looking like something I'm not," I said plainly. My mom was still gawking, stepping up and around Blossom like she was a work of art. She kind of was.

"Alright, alright, but if you change your mind when we get there let me know and I'll take you to my room and we can do it, alright?" Honestly, it wasn't like Blossom to back down, but she wanted Amy to be happy and feel safe. She didn’t want to push her outside her comfort zone.

"We should get a move on, though~"

"Oh, absolutely not," my mom interjected.

She walked straight over to the closet and rummaged around before holding out a thick red coat for Blossom. It was one of my mom's. It wouldn't fit Blossom exactly - certainly not in any fashionable way - but it would zip up just fine. Blossom looked really taken aback. I don't know what she expected, to be honest.

"Don't take it off until you're in the house," my mom continued. "And Amanda can bring it back later."

Blossom honestly didn't know what to do about that, because she wasn't really the get-told-what-to-do kind of girl, and her Dad had been pretty trusting of her judgments for a long time now. But she was also a sorority girl who was good at playing with optics so she flashed a magazine cover smile and nodded graciously, taking the coat.

"Thank you, I'll make sure it makes it back."

She'd probably take it off once she was in the car and out of sight, but for now she put it on because it was the path of least resistance.

"Amanda," my mom said sharply. "If she takes it off, you tell me."

I gave a thumbs up. I was used to this. She bought Lin snow boots for Christmas.

The whole thing, however intrusive, felt pretty wholesome. It definitely came from a place of love, and Blossom could appreciate that. She made a mental note to buy a coat for when she came over in the future to prevent getting Amy-Mommed, because she didn't want to come across as reckless or ungrateful.

"Let's roll, babydoll~"

My mom gave me another look as Blossom stepped outside.

"No worse than cupcake," I said with a shrug. Mom gave me a hug goodbye and a kiss on the cheek. I couldn't dodge it this time.

"Call if you need a ride," my mom reminded me. I waved and closed the door behind us.

"Your mom is weird..." Blossom said, fumbling with the zipper on the coat. If she was going to wear it, she might as well be warm.

"Now you know where I get it from."