In the early morning, Faith snuck into her mother‘s white tiled bathroom, hoping to find a lip shade Julia would like. Something red and pretty and sweet. 

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She had been having dreams about Julia. They  sat at a blue round table in the cafeteria where they usually ate lunch. The room was empty and bright with fluorescent lighting. They sat on the bench side by side, knees touching under the table, heads facing each other. Then, they would get so close to touching lips until the dream suddenly ends. 

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Faith had never been kissed before and therefore could not dream of kisses.

Her fingers wrapped around the brass handle of the bathroom drawer and pulled slowly. A slight squeak came from inside of the cabinet and she paused. She waited to hear the soft wheeze of her mother’s breathing from the bedroom next door. 

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She continued pulling. Once it was open enough, she peered into the drawer. It had a limited collection of makeup: used nude eyeshadow palettes with craters in the colors, brushes with excess brown powder on the tips and a few unopened shades of lipsticks. 

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She picked a bright red one; the pigment of a fresh Red Delicious. She opened the packaging, lifting the metal lid away from the lipstick. The tube was untouched, the stick of color unmarked by skin. Faith tucked it into her pocket. 

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After a quick breakfast, she stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom. She tested the shade on her unsure lips. The texture was strange, like rubbing wax on a doll. When she put the tube down, she noticed the brightness it added to her cheeks. She looked older, like high school. It thrilled her. She put the lipstick in her pocket and walked into the kitchen. 

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She was surprised to find her mother there. She stood over the sink in a gray robe, lifting the handle of the sink to fill the kettle. Faith turned away from her mother just as her mother saw her face.

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“Faith?” 

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She didn’t say anything, only grabbed her backpack and started for the garage door.

 

“Faith,” her mother said, walking over to her and grabbing her chin. “You’re wearing… is that mine?”

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“I have to go to the bus.” 

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Her mother held onto her chin. Faith watched something familiar fill her mother’s expression. 

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“Wash that off. Now. You’re too young for makeup.”

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“But I have to go.”

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“Wash that shit off.”

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Her mother didn’t wait for Faith to comply. She pulled Faith’s arm to the sink, reached for a fresh wash cloth and started scrubbing at Faith’s lips. Faith felt the rough cloth scrape off the color and flakes of her skin. She heard the faucet running by her ear and felt flecks hit her cheek and neck and imbed into her shirt. It was cold.

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Her mother said, “You should want people to treat you with respect.”

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Faith waited until her mother was done before grabbing her backpack and rushing out the door. She heard her name called after the door slammed shut.

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A cold breeze hit her raw lips as she jogged to the bus stop. A strange cooling sensation combined with the new tears on her cheeks. 

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She just wanted to look pretty. 

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As Faith sat in the rickety bus, she tucked her hands into her jacket pocket to warm them up. In her coat, she felt something small and cylindrical. She thought it was the tube of lipstick for a second, but this was much smaller. She pulled it out. 

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A cherry jolly rancher. 

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She forgot that Julia gave her one after school yesterday. She had shoved it in her pocket, saving it for when she was alone and knew her mother wouldn't see the proof on her tongue. Too much sugar. 

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In the cold bus in the gray seats, she unwrapped the red jolly rancher, the crinkling lost to the sound of the bus engine. She wet the candy with her tongue and rubbed it over her lips. Over and over until coatings of cherry covered her mouth.

 

She hoped her first kiss tasted like candy. Something red and pretty and sweet.