Kate pulled her long blonde hair into a messy bun on the top of her head and smoothed her denim vest down over her long white peasant skirt, regarding herself in the full length mirror in front of her. Her bright red cowboy boots poked out from under the long skirt, and the pop of color made Kate smile. She thrifted them last month and never wanted to take them off.
It was only her second semester at UCLA, and Kate already noticed the changes in her face, her body, how she moved through the world. Her childhood best friend, Maya, said she barely recognized her when she came home for winter break.
In a good way, Maya reassured her. You look freer.
I mean, there was a reason Kate moved out of their small SoCal town in favor of the city of Los Angeles. She wanted more for herself. She needed more. More than that suffocating, homogenous, tiny town where it seemed like no one ever left.
When she toured UCLA last year, Kate knew she belonged there. She didn’t care that everyone at home thought she was chasing a Hollywood pipe dream – she knew she was. And she was going to achieve it.
Tonight was the first big party of the new semester, and everyone was going. Kate was already running late because of a new DIY project she was working on for her dorm room: a disco ball headboard for her Twin XL bed. As per usual when she hyper fixated on a project, Kate completely lost track of time and was scrambling to get ready.
After haphazardly slapping on glitter eyeshadow, a colorful liquid eyeliner Kate was shocked came out in a perfect sharp wing on the first try, and copious amounts of highlighter, she ran out the door and across campus.
After power walking for twenty minutes, Kate’s feet screamed in protest and she winced. LA was not a walking city like New York, and definitely did not have the public transport of DC that she was used to. Her trusty red boots did have the slightest heel, and Kate could feel the balls of her feet beginning to pinch.
Beauty is pain, is what she chanted to herself when shoes started hurting, or when one of her DIY projects made her nails break. Still, she tucked herself into the entryway’s alcove and peered inside to assess the situation.
The party was in full swing. Whoever rented this house had transformed it into a cowboy wonderland – there was a DJ playing remixes of Dolly Parton songs in one room where rows and rows of bodies were line dancing around on a sticky floor terribly out of sync. Another room housed a…was that a mechanical bull? Kate cursed herself for wearing a skirt for the party’s country theme instead of trying to thrift chaps like she originally wanted. She loved a mechanical bull.
Kate scanned the crowd for her roommates and friends from class last semester. They said they would be here, but didn’t recognize anyone. She steeled herself. This is what college was about right? Going out of your comfort zone, meeting new people. Kate knew she could charm the pants off anybody, but coming to a party alone meant she needed a teensy bit of liquid courage. She decided to make a beeline straight for the bar, head held high but not really looking where she was going…