Noelle's Nose
Noelle Ese Nosse had no clue how to make make-up, but she was determined to try. From her thinking position—one foot propped on her bed, one on her desk, and her head upside down between them both—she scribbled out ideas in pink crayon with her free hand, alleviating pressure only to shift the weight between her head to her hand. She did her best brainstorming upside down. She’d read a book somewhere where the antagonist did the same, and though she had never fancied herself a villain, she did find that they generally had the best ideas and good reasons for following through on them.
Yet by now, her head had begun to heat up from the blood rushing to it, so she set the crayon down, propped herself with both hands, and shook out the tingles. However, in so doing, her foot slipped from the bed and sent her tumbling to the ground, where she rolled over and looked up blankly at the ceiling. Despite the slight twinge in her side and heart, she felt alright, just a little sad that she had only been able to hold the position for two minutes or so this time. Still, it was a new record. The last brainstorm page only had a couple of lines on it—not even words, just lines.
At one point long ago, she’d glued a mirror to her ceiling, obsessed with trying to determine what her future spouse would see if he watched her sleep. She’d been wildly unsuccessful then, eventually resorting to hanging her camera on a string from the closet door and setting an all-night timer (the results of which were horrific to view). Now, she used the mirror to examine her reflection: wild red hair covering most of her freckled face, with the ink stains from yesterday’s explosion and the pink crayon dotting her nose just peeking through. The comedy almost brought her to tears, until she tipped her head to the right and had a magical realization.
She didn’t have to make the best makeup products to sell them on the market! She just had to achieve the best makeup fail! Giggling in delight, she jumped to her feet, swayed a bit from the woozy rush of blood to its normal facilities, and got to work.
After three bouts of incessant knocking, Jordan cracked her door open, rubbing her eyes and yawning. “Geez oh peets, Noelle, what on earth can be so important at three a.m.?”
Excited that Jordan was as excited as she was, Noelle bounced in place, rattling off her idea as quickly as possible, then finished by saying, “So, I’m just going to need some setting powder!”
Jordan didn’t respond for a full minute, just looking at Noelle, who thought she noticed her friend’s eyebrow twitching just slightly. “You don’t even know what setting powder is,” she replied flatly.
Noelle grinned. “Exactly! I’ve heard it’s important for getting makeup to set.”
“You want to start a business with my setting powder?” Jordan asked again, opening her door a bit wider.
“YES! Isn’t it an honor? YOU get to be the core supporter of Noelle’s Nose!”
“Newsflash,” she replied, a bit aggressively, “It already exists. It’s called Loreal.” With that, Jordan slammed her door.
“But I’ll make you cookies! I’ll give you first dibs on beta testing the final—”
“JUST GO TO BED!”
Noelle stood there a minute longer, and the twinge in her heart returned. This happened sometimes in situations where others felt sad. She and Jordan had been best friends before college, but now it seemed that all she did was annoy her.
Shaking it off, Noelle tried her other two roommates and received similar responses. Musing, she figured it was best to move down the length of her dorm, which she did. Some came to the door beleaguered, others panicked, others not at all. Some, typically people who had lived in the same dorm as her last year as well, came to the door prepared with some oddity or another to give her. By the end of the night, she had gathered a host of ingredients from confused donors and managed to slip away to the chemistry lab just as the sun rose.
She’d come to college as a chemistry and fashion merchandising double major. However, when her third attempt to make an explosive dress like Katniss Everdeen’s resulted in a sulfuric and hydrochloric acid spill on another student, she’d been politely asked to drop her double major in chemistry. The fashion kids loved her though, elevating her to the top of their social hierarchy as the one weirdo who had an exotic future outside college but was untouchable within it. Still, before she’d been asked to leave chemistry, she’d swiped the key to the lab, made a mimic using wax and clay, then proceeded to work on her designs in the early morning hours between the janitor’s exit and the TA’s arrival. The TAs had, of course, heard the legend of her exploding dress, but due to confidentiality requirements, they had no idea it was Noelle who wasn’t supposed to be in the lab, and they quite liked hearing her original ideas.
She liked the TAs too, and often she’d try out her prototypes on them to check the feasibility of her product. Neither would try them on without lab coats on top because of the high combustibility rate, so she had to take slightly different measurements than normal, but the end results usually still fit well though.
Today, she decided to try to convince them to apply her makeup to the bare skin, but she had to make sure it would work and not chisel away at their skin. Having never made—or worn—makeup before, she figured the best place to start would be its consistency. For the next several hours, she experimented with the texture of the product. After an hour or two, she had managed to combine some types of makeup, a couple of acids, a base, and a LOT of water to make a packed product.
Yet, as she crafted, she came up with an even better idea.
What if she took the makeup she had just made and created a portable face mask for instant application! For her, she didn’t apply makeup because learning how to do it and then actually doing it would take way more time out of her daily schedule than she had the willingness to give up. But if she made an automatic application process—people would go nuts for it!
She figured her makeup would need to boil for about thirty or forty-five minutes to reach the proper texture and consistency, so she decided to violate lab safety rule number one and head to the fashion cutting room while it boiled.
The walk took about ten minutes, a process she completed by singing at the top of her lungs to welcome the daylight, a soprano against the Mockingjay choir that typically accompanied her voice at about this time each morning. On a whim, she decided to sprint the rest of the way to the lab, suddenly remembering her boiling makeup, which spurred her on further. When she got there, she let herself in with a similarly acquired key and raced to the craft room for as many fabric styles as she could gather.
In her mind, she envisioned a face mask like the ones branded with the fancy green trills that read “Mint Regeneration,” a little soapy to the touch, but otherwise easily applicable. If she captured the same idea with her own work, she could take the makeup and attach it to a permeable fabric and apply it easily to the skin.
Settling at her normal table, she sketched a light drawing, approximating where Amy and Michael’s facial features would go. In some places, she pressed deeper into the cloth, marking the heaviest marks above the eyes and along the bridge of the nose. She used a deeper red pencil to denote the edges of their lips. Already familiar with their favorite colors, she picked at the cloth, cutting it into different shapes and experimenting with the perfect mat for her new product. As she worked, Noelle wondered if she should have tested each of these parts at different stages—creating the makeup first or maybe applying pre-existing makeup to the mask to make sure it worked on its own.
On the other hand, she was marketing her brand under the category of makeup fails, so why not do it this way? It’d be a fantastic way to test both parts of the product, and if one failed, then that should be celebrated! It meant the brand was achieving its aim.
Giggling to herself, she flipped the mask over and sketched a long, angular nose on the end, what she’d imagined hers would look like in charcoal had she been able to draw self-portraits. She’d made the logo back in high school, taking the joke of her name and making it a practical brand. Of her many skills, art was the only one multiple people regularly affirmed in her. Normally, they told her to stop trying so hard or to do something else with her spare time besides inventing new products.
Lost in that thought, she faltered. Outside, she heard laughter from the freshmen fashion students trickling into their first class next door, their casual community with each other the center of attention. Muffled, she heard them saying,
“And then he broke up with me and said I’d never be alone because Ally was my best friend, and I just kinda looked at him and laughed because clearly he’s never been broken up with before—”
“Wait, didn’t you say Ally wasn’t talking to you anymore because of him?”
“Yes, and see that’s the thing, this jerk was so oblivious, he didn’t even realize everything I’d sacrificed to be with…”
The voices trailed away, replaced by Professor Sierra’s clicking footsteps and the door shutting behind them. Noelle hesitated. She’d never had enough spare time to engage in petty gossip or have a boyfriend or a best friend and manage all the complications of their emotions, but glancing around the empty lab, she imagined a future where she sacrificed her craft to be with someone. She’d have to temper herself down, wear “normal” clothes, smile when touched, let herself be kissed—
Noelle shuddered. She wouldn’t go back there. She’d never go back there. Besides, she’d also have to wear makeup, which was currently overboiling on the stove. The reminder left her leaping to her feet and shoving her designs into her bag. Besides, someone had to make the stuff so every other little girl out there who didn’t have a mother to teach them how to wear it wouldn’t have to rewrite themselves to learn.
As if conjured by the thought, the lab door squeaked open, and Anthony stepped in. The only male fashion student in the class of 2025, they had bonded early freshman year as similar outcasts. He had his own designs on the other side of the lab, and though they didn’t match the fluttering butterfly suit or the edible vest that hung above her own table, his designs exuded an elegant confidence she admired. Normally, she would have given him a curt nod and continued, but today, she lingered, her earlier thoughts still present.
As he made his way to his table, she asked, “Hey Anthony, have you ever had a best friend?”
He looked up and removed an earbud. “What?”
“Do you have a best friend?”
The two of them stared at each other in silence for so long that even Noelle began to feel the awkwardness. “Do you?” he asked.
“Not in college,” she said. “I don’t know if one that died in high-school still counts.”
“I feel like that’s where most friendships die,” he replied, putting his earbud back in and continuing to his desk.
She felt strange, wondering if she should ask him more questions or push a little harder for an answer, but something left her unfocused and uncertain. She didn’t know what to do with such a feeling, so she moved along, leaving it behind her.
Outdoors, the sun had risen fully now, and she sang along with the birds and felt happy again. No one had friends who could match these. Further, birds didn’t waste her time with silly things like gossip and drama.
So thinking, she danced on, making her way back to the chemistry lab. When she arrived, the first class was already preparing to come in, and she realized she’d spent a little longer than planned lost in thought and working on her designs. Weaving her way through the crowd, she unlocked the lab and closed it behind her, turning and coming face to face with the scowling dean who had originally escorted her from her major and the two cowering TAs behind him.
Amy shook her head wildly back and forth and pantomimed zipping her mouth. Noelle frowned, trying to make out what she was saying.
“What are you saying?” she asked Amy.
The dean whirled about and raised an eyebrow. “What are you saying? Is this the girl who did this?” he asked. The two stared impassively at him, and Noelle shrugged. If it wasn’t worth saying to the dean, it must not have been important.
“What are you doing here, Noelle?” the dean asked, turning back to her. “Are you responsible for this mess?”
He stepped back, and Noelle could see the overflowing remnants of her pot of makeup scattered about the tiled floor. However, her excitement overwhelmed any dismay. “You remembered my name!” she exclaimed. “Of course, I’m responsible for this. It’s going to be the world’s next breakthrough in makeup! There’s nothing quite like it in the world! Here, let me show you,” she said, pausing to draw out the mask she had made from her bag.
Racing to the pooling matter, she scooped some of the foam onto her cloth and smoothed it flat with the back of the ladle. It stained the purple cloth a darker shade of blue, but it looked safe enough to apply to the skin.
Proudly, she demonstrated her new product. “Welcome to Noelle’s Nose, a specialty of novel fashion and makeup. Today, I present the Make-Up Fail, a spectacular product to cover the worst of blemishes and accentuate natural features in less than two minutes!”
The dean lifted an eyebrow. “You have a blend of acids and some cloth—that’s not exactly a new product.”
“Ah, but just wait! I prepared my prototypes for your lovely TAs here—”
“Y’all knew about this?!” the dean asked, horrified. Amy face-palmed.
“—but if you care to sample the product, I’d be glad to show you just how amazing it can be!”
The dean hesitated, imagining his future career options. If he allowed her to sample her technology on either herself or the TAs and something terrible happened, he would be held accountable for the action. The TAs were already beholden to her. He knew Noelle would sample her product on someone no matter what. Further, if the mask did work somehow, he could claim a portion of the profits for the college of sciences because she had tested it in his lab.
These thoughts and no other iota of common sense led him to proffer his hand, and she delightedly handed him the face mask.
“What do I do with this?” he asked, resigned.
“Just put it on and leave it there for about five minutes! It’ll do the rest.”
So wear it he did, trying to ignore the gradual itchiness of his face and the layers that seemed to press themselves into and clog his skin. While he wore it, Noelle rambled on about the process and began scooping her solution into jars to take with her. “It’s the latest in time-conscious fashion,” she declared. By this time next week, everyone on campus will be beta-testing it!”
“Noelle, I don’t know if that’s a good idea—” he began.
“Nonsense! The more beta testers the better!” she declared. Noticing a slight reddening around the edges of the dean’s skin, she abruptly changed gears. “Speaking of which, I think it’s about time for the mask to come off now.”
“But it’s only been a couple of minutes!” he said. “I thought you said five!”
“I said about five,” she corrected. “Go ahead and take it off.”
He did, and she and Amy stepped back to study the results. “Well? Well?” he asked,
“You look stunning,” Noelle replied. And, well… was she lying? No. He looked stunning in a way that no one could match.
To herself, Noelle made some mental notes to deepen the lines on the makeup. It didn’t quite look like a makeup fail, more just ordinary makeup.
Amy’s jaw dropped. “Noelle, you’re a genius!” she exclaimed. “How did you do that? It looks perfect! The eye shading is just right, and the eyelashes and eyebrows? I don’t even know how you got the accents on the lips!” Michael nodded in admiration too, though he’d been a lot more excited by the flip-flops with engine-powered wheels.
The dean smiled and nodded to himself. “I always knew you were a revolutionary creative, Noelle. With proper supervision and caution,” he said, casting a glance at the overflowing pot. “You could always rejoin our chemistry program if you wish. We just ask that you share the profits of what you create with the Department of Sciences for funding your innovation.”
Noelle beamed. He would let her rejoin?! It was the perfect scenario.
“I’ll make you proud, dean!” she declared.
“In fact, I’ll make you a TA too, so you don’t have to get Amy or Michael to let you in,” he declared.
“Sir, we don’t—” Michael began, before being interrupted by a firm kick from Amy.
“That would be lovely,” Amy said. “Noelle is a genius, and we can’t wait to have her on our team.”
“Just clean that up,” the dean said, motioning at the pot. “We need to get the next class in here.” With that, he left, smiling proudly to himself in amazement at how good he looked and about how it all came back to the magic of science.
As Noelle knelt to clean, Amy and Michael came to join her, each helping brainstorm how to make the product better than before. As they rambled about the different chemicals and compounds she used, she smiled to herself because she realized she had friends after all: Amy and Michael and Anthony. But a best friend? An idea came to her, and she grinned, scooping up several more vials of the liquid and pulling the last mask from her satchel.
Glancing at the industrial classroom clock, she figured she could still make it to the dorm before Jordan left for her first class. “Sorry, y’all, I’ve got to go. It’s important stuff. I promise I’ll stay behind and clean up extra stuff after your next lab.”
Amy gave her a thumbs up, and Michael nodded, so she took off, vials banging against each other loosely in her bag. When she made it to her dorm, she paused outside the door, lathering the makeup against the mask’s fabric. Something about the pencil had allowed it to interact directly with the makeup to create a natural look—the exact makeup style Jordan loved to wear.
Yet when she entered the room, Jordan hadn’t left her room, so Noelle waited on the couch in the common area, shifting her feet back and forth in anxious anticipation. Eventually, Jordan cracked her door open and staggered from her room, looking much like the walking dead. She noticed Noelle but didn’t acknowledge her, instead going straight to the mirror and rubbing at her eyes.
“I look awful,” she muttered aloud. “Guess that’s what happens when you get woken up at three a.m.”
After a pointed look at Noelle, she glanced over at the time and rolled her eyes. “Annnd, I don’t have time to get ready. Thanks a lot.”
“Hey, Jordan?” Noelle asked, softer.
“Ya?”
“I made you something that will both help with that problem and also serve as a thank you for letting me bother you in the late hours.”
Jordan raised an eyebrow, the victim of too many of Noelle’s unfinished projects. “Something that works?”
“Yeah.”
“What is it?”
Noelle held up the mask. “It’s Noelle’s Nose makeup applier; it’ll put all your makeup on for the day in two minutes or less.”
“If that’s true, it’ll save some time.”
“Dean Lewis already tested it out, and he loved it so much he invited me to rejoin the chemistry program and become a TA.”
Jordan glanced at the time again and sighed. “Okay, I’ll give it a shot.”
Noelle smiled, and Jordan took it, unfolding the cloth and applying it to her face. She pushed to attach it firmly, and while she waited, she ducked back into her room to get dressed.
Then came the moment of truth. Peeling off one corner at a time, she said, “If this doesn’t work, I’m gonna—”
Then she saw her face, and her jaw dropped. “How did you do that, Noelle? In one night?”
Noelle nodded, and Jordan was so happy she ran to hug her. “I’m gonna make it to my class in time and look fantastic. You should make more of these!”
The inventor grinned and hugged her friend tightly. “Hey, I’m sorry I’ve been inconsiderate these past few weeks. I’ve just been excited about all these ideas in my head, and when I get an idea, I have to chase it to the end.”
Jordan tipped her head back and reflected. “You know, I’ve been pretty rude too. I’m stressed about school assignments. But just know,” she said, smiling, “I will always make time for you, even if I’m grouchy early in the morning. I’ve gotta run now, but let’s get dinner tonight, huh?”
Noelle nodded, and as her friend raced out the door, she smiled to herself again. At last, everything felt right in her world again.
Yet by now, her head had begun to heat up from the blood rushing to it, so she set the crayon down, propped herself with both hands, and shook out the tingles. However, in so doing, her foot slipped from the bed and sent her tumbling to the ground, where she rolled over and looked up blankly at the ceiling. Despite the slight twinge in her side and heart, she felt alright, just a little sad that she had only been able to hold the position for two minutes or so this time. Still, it was a new record. The last brainstorm page only had a couple of lines on it—not even words, just lines.
At one point long ago, she’d glued a mirror to her ceiling, obsessed with trying to determine what her future spouse would see if he watched her sleep. She’d been wildly unsuccessful then, eventually resorting to hanging her camera on a string from the closet door and setting an all-night timer (the results of which were horrific to view). Now, she used the mirror to examine her reflection: wild red hair covering most of her freckled face, with the ink stains from yesterday’s explosion and the pink crayon dotting her nose just peeking through. The comedy almost brought her to tears, until she tipped her head to the right and had a magical realization.
She didn’t have to make the best makeup products to sell them on the market! She just had to achieve the best makeup fail! Giggling in delight, she jumped to her feet, swayed a bit from the woozy rush of blood to its normal facilities, and got to work.
After three bouts of incessant knocking, Jordan cracked her door open, rubbing her eyes and yawning. “Geez oh peets, Noelle, what on earth can be so important at three a.m.?”
Excited that Jordan was as excited as she was, Noelle bounced in place, rattling off her idea as quickly as possible, then finished by saying, “So, I’m just going to need some setting powder!”
Jordan didn’t respond for a full minute, just looking at Noelle, who thought she noticed her friend’s eyebrow twitching just slightly. “You don’t even know what setting powder is,” she replied flatly.
Noelle grinned. “Exactly! I’ve heard it’s important for getting makeup to set.”
“You want to start a business with my setting powder?” Jordan asked again, opening her door a bit wider.
“YES! Isn’t it an honor? YOU get to be the core supporter of Noelle’s Nose!”
“Newsflash,” she replied, a bit aggressively, “It already exists. It’s called Loreal.” With that, Jordan slammed her door.
“But I’ll make you cookies! I’ll give you first dibs on beta testing the final—”
“JUST GO TO BED!”
Noelle stood there a minute longer, and the twinge in her heart returned. This happened sometimes in situations where others felt sad. She and Jordan had been best friends before college, but now it seemed that all she did was annoy her.
Shaking it off, Noelle tried her other two roommates and received similar responses. Musing, she figured it was best to move down the length of her dorm, which she did. Some came to the door beleaguered, others panicked, others not at all. Some, typically people who had lived in the same dorm as her last year as well, came to the door prepared with some oddity or another to give her. By the end of the night, she had gathered a host of ingredients from confused donors and managed to slip away to the chemistry lab just as the sun rose.
She’d come to college as a chemistry and fashion merchandising double major. However, when her third attempt to make an explosive dress like Katniss Everdeen’s resulted in a sulfuric and hydrochloric acid spill on another student, she’d been politely asked to drop her double major in chemistry. The fashion kids loved her though, elevating her to the top of their social hierarchy as the one weirdo who had an exotic future outside college but was untouchable within it. Still, before she’d been asked to leave chemistry, she’d swiped the key to the lab, made a mimic using wax and clay, then proceeded to work on her designs in the early morning hours between the janitor’s exit and the TA’s arrival. The TAs had, of course, heard the legend of her exploding dress, but due to confidentiality requirements, they had no idea it was Noelle who wasn’t supposed to be in the lab, and they quite liked hearing her original ideas.
She liked the TAs too, and often she’d try out her prototypes on them to check the feasibility of her product. Neither would try them on without lab coats on top because of the high combustibility rate, so she had to take slightly different measurements than normal, but the end results usually still fit well though.
Today, she decided to try to convince them to apply her makeup to the bare skin, but she had to make sure it would work and not chisel away at their skin. Having never made—or worn—makeup before, she figured the best place to start would be its consistency. For the next several hours, she experimented with the texture of the product. After an hour or two, she had managed to combine some types of makeup, a couple of acids, a base, and a LOT of water to make a packed product.
Yet, as she crafted, she came up with an even better idea.
What if she took the makeup she had just made and created a portable face mask for instant application! For her, she didn’t apply makeup because learning how to do it and then actually doing it would take way more time out of her daily schedule than she had the willingness to give up. But if she made an automatic application process—people would go nuts for it!
She figured her makeup would need to boil for about thirty or forty-five minutes to reach the proper texture and consistency, so she decided to violate lab safety rule number one and head to the fashion cutting room while it boiled.
The walk took about ten minutes, a process she completed by singing at the top of her lungs to welcome the daylight, a soprano against the Mockingjay choir that typically accompanied her voice at about this time each morning. On a whim, she decided to sprint the rest of the way to the lab, suddenly remembering her boiling makeup, which spurred her on further. When she got there, she let herself in with a similarly acquired key and raced to the craft room for as many fabric styles as she could gather.
In her mind, she envisioned a face mask like the ones branded with the fancy green trills that read “Mint Regeneration,” a little soapy to the touch, but otherwise easily applicable. If she captured the same idea with her own work, she could take the makeup and attach it to a permeable fabric and apply it easily to the skin.
Settling at her normal table, she sketched a light drawing, approximating where Amy and Michael’s facial features would go. In some places, she pressed deeper into the cloth, marking the heaviest marks above the eyes and along the bridge of the nose. She used a deeper red pencil to denote the edges of their lips. Already familiar with their favorite colors, she picked at the cloth, cutting it into different shapes and experimenting with the perfect mat for her new product. As she worked, Noelle wondered if she should have tested each of these parts at different stages—creating the makeup first or maybe applying pre-existing makeup to the mask to make sure it worked on its own.
On the other hand, she was marketing her brand under the category of makeup fails, so why not do it this way? It’d be a fantastic way to test both parts of the product, and if one failed, then that should be celebrated! It meant the brand was achieving its aim.
Giggling to herself, she flipped the mask over and sketched a long, angular nose on the end, what she’d imagined hers would look like in charcoal had she been able to draw self-portraits. She’d made the logo back in high school, taking the joke of her name and making it a practical brand. Of her many skills, art was the only one multiple people regularly affirmed in her. Normally, they told her to stop trying so hard or to do something else with her spare time besides inventing new products.
Lost in that thought, she faltered. Outside, she heard laughter from the freshmen fashion students trickling into their first class next door, their casual community with each other the center of attention. Muffled, she heard them saying,
“And then he broke up with me and said I’d never be alone because Ally was my best friend, and I just kinda looked at him and laughed because clearly he’s never been broken up with before—”
“Wait, didn’t you say Ally wasn’t talking to you anymore because of him?”
“Yes, and see that’s the thing, this jerk was so oblivious, he didn’t even realize everything I’d sacrificed to be with…”
The voices trailed away, replaced by Professor Sierra’s clicking footsteps and the door shutting behind them. Noelle hesitated. She’d never had enough spare time to engage in petty gossip or have a boyfriend or a best friend and manage all the complications of their emotions, but glancing around the empty lab, she imagined a future where she sacrificed her craft to be with someone. She’d have to temper herself down, wear “normal” clothes, smile when touched, let herself be kissed—
Noelle shuddered. She wouldn’t go back there. She’d never go back there. Besides, she’d also have to wear makeup, which was currently overboiling on the stove. The reminder left her leaping to her feet and shoving her designs into her bag. Besides, someone had to make the stuff so every other little girl out there who didn’t have a mother to teach them how to wear it wouldn’t have to rewrite themselves to learn.
As if conjured by the thought, the lab door squeaked open, and Anthony stepped in. The only male fashion student in the class of 2025, they had bonded early freshman year as similar outcasts. He had his own designs on the other side of the lab, and though they didn’t match the fluttering butterfly suit or the edible vest that hung above her own table, his designs exuded an elegant confidence she admired. Normally, she would have given him a curt nod and continued, but today, she lingered, her earlier thoughts still present.
As he made his way to his table, she asked, “Hey Anthony, have you ever had a best friend?”
He looked up and removed an earbud. “What?”
“Do you have a best friend?”
The two of them stared at each other in silence for so long that even Noelle began to feel the awkwardness. “Do you?” he asked.
“Not in college,” she said. “I don’t know if one that died in high-school still counts.”
“I feel like that’s where most friendships die,” he replied, putting his earbud back in and continuing to his desk.
She felt strange, wondering if she should ask him more questions or push a little harder for an answer, but something left her unfocused and uncertain. She didn’t know what to do with such a feeling, so she moved along, leaving it behind her.
Outdoors, the sun had risen fully now, and she sang along with the birds and felt happy again. No one had friends who could match these. Further, birds didn’t waste her time with silly things like gossip and drama.
So thinking, she danced on, making her way back to the chemistry lab. When she arrived, the first class was already preparing to come in, and she realized she’d spent a little longer than planned lost in thought and working on her designs. Weaving her way through the crowd, she unlocked the lab and closed it behind her, turning and coming face to face with the scowling dean who had originally escorted her from her major and the two cowering TAs behind him.
Amy shook her head wildly back and forth and pantomimed zipping her mouth. Noelle frowned, trying to make out what she was saying.
“What are you saying?” she asked Amy.
The dean whirled about and raised an eyebrow. “What are you saying? Is this the girl who did this?” he asked. The two stared impassively at him, and Noelle shrugged. If it wasn’t worth saying to the dean, it must not have been important.
“What are you doing here, Noelle?” the dean asked, turning back to her. “Are you responsible for this mess?”
He stepped back, and Noelle could see the overflowing remnants of her pot of makeup scattered about the tiled floor. However, her excitement overwhelmed any dismay. “You remembered my name!” she exclaimed. “Of course, I’m responsible for this. It’s going to be the world’s next breakthrough in makeup! There’s nothing quite like it in the world! Here, let me show you,” she said, pausing to draw out the mask she had made from her bag.
Racing to the pooling matter, she scooped some of the foam onto her cloth and smoothed it flat with the back of the ladle. It stained the purple cloth a darker shade of blue, but it looked safe enough to apply to the skin.
Proudly, she demonstrated her new product. “Welcome to Noelle’s Nose, a specialty of novel fashion and makeup. Today, I present the Make-Up Fail, a spectacular product to cover the worst of blemishes and accentuate natural features in less than two minutes!”
The dean lifted an eyebrow. “You have a blend of acids and some cloth—that’s not exactly a new product.”
“Ah, but just wait! I prepared my prototypes for your lovely TAs here—”
“Y’all knew about this?!” the dean asked, horrified. Amy face-palmed.
“—but if you care to sample the product, I’d be glad to show you just how amazing it can be!”
The dean hesitated, imagining his future career options. If he allowed her to sample her technology on either herself or the TAs and something terrible happened, he would be held accountable for the action. The TAs were already beholden to her. He knew Noelle would sample her product on someone no matter what. Further, if the mask did work somehow, he could claim a portion of the profits for the college of sciences because she had tested it in his lab.
These thoughts and no other iota of common sense led him to proffer his hand, and she delightedly handed him the face mask.
“What do I do with this?” he asked, resigned.
“Just put it on and leave it there for about five minutes! It’ll do the rest.”
So wear it he did, trying to ignore the gradual itchiness of his face and the layers that seemed to press themselves into and clog his skin. While he wore it, Noelle rambled on about the process and began scooping her solution into jars to take with her. “It’s the latest in time-conscious fashion,” she declared. By this time next week, everyone on campus will be beta-testing it!”
“Noelle, I don’t know if that’s a good idea—” he began.
“Nonsense! The more beta testers the better!” she declared. Noticing a slight reddening around the edges of the dean’s skin, she abruptly changed gears. “Speaking of which, I think it’s about time for the mask to come off now.”
“But it’s only been a couple of minutes!” he said. “I thought you said five!”
“I said about five,” she corrected. “Go ahead and take it off.”
He did, and she and Amy stepped back to study the results. “Well? Well?” he asked,
“You look stunning,” Noelle replied. And, well… was she lying? No. He looked stunning in a way that no one could match.
To herself, Noelle made some mental notes to deepen the lines on the makeup. It didn’t quite look like a makeup fail, more just ordinary makeup.
Amy’s jaw dropped. “Noelle, you’re a genius!” she exclaimed. “How did you do that? It looks perfect! The eye shading is just right, and the eyelashes and eyebrows? I don’t even know how you got the accents on the lips!” Michael nodded in admiration too, though he’d been a lot more excited by the flip-flops with engine-powered wheels.
The dean smiled and nodded to himself. “I always knew you were a revolutionary creative, Noelle. With proper supervision and caution,” he said, casting a glance at the overflowing pot. “You could always rejoin our chemistry program if you wish. We just ask that you share the profits of what you create with the Department of Sciences for funding your innovation.”
Noelle beamed. He would let her rejoin?! It was the perfect scenario.
“I’ll make you proud, dean!” she declared.
“In fact, I’ll make you a TA too, so you don’t have to get Amy or Michael to let you in,” he declared.
“Sir, we don’t—” Michael began, before being interrupted by a firm kick from Amy.
“That would be lovely,” Amy said. “Noelle is a genius, and we can’t wait to have her on our team.”
“Just clean that up,” the dean said, motioning at the pot. “We need to get the next class in here.” With that, he left, smiling proudly to himself in amazement at how good he looked and about how it all came back to the magic of science.
As Noelle knelt to clean, Amy and Michael came to join her, each helping brainstorm how to make the product better than before. As they rambled about the different chemicals and compounds she used, she smiled to herself because she realized she had friends after all: Amy and Michael and Anthony. But a best friend? An idea came to her, and she grinned, scooping up several more vials of the liquid and pulling the last mask from her satchel.
Glancing at the industrial classroom clock, she figured she could still make it to the dorm before Jordan left for her first class. “Sorry, y’all, I’ve got to go. It’s important stuff. I promise I’ll stay behind and clean up extra stuff after your next lab.”
Amy gave her a thumbs up, and Michael nodded, so she took off, vials banging against each other loosely in her bag. When she made it to her dorm, she paused outside the door, lathering the makeup against the mask’s fabric. Something about the pencil had allowed it to interact directly with the makeup to create a natural look—the exact makeup style Jordan loved to wear.
Yet when she entered the room, Jordan hadn’t left her room, so Noelle waited on the couch in the common area, shifting her feet back and forth in anxious anticipation. Eventually, Jordan cracked her door open and staggered from her room, looking much like the walking dead. She noticed Noelle but didn’t acknowledge her, instead going straight to the mirror and rubbing at her eyes.
“I look awful,” she muttered aloud. “Guess that’s what happens when you get woken up at three a.m.”
After a pointed look at Noelle, she glanced over at the time and rolled her eyes. “Annnd, I don’t have time to get ready. Thanks a lot.”
“Hey, Jordan?” Noelle asked, softer.
“Ya?”
“I made you something that will both help with that problem and also serve as a thank you for letting me bother you in the late hours.”
Jordan raised an eyebrow, the victim of too many of Noelle’s unfinished projects. “Something that works?”
“Yeah.”
“What is it?”
Noelle held up the mask. “It’s Noelle’s Nose makeup applier; it’ll put all your makeup on for the day in two minutes or less.”
“If that’s true, it’ll save some time.”
“Dean Lewis already tested it out, and he loved it so much he invited me to rejoin the chemistry program and become a TA.”
Jordan glanced at the time again and sighed. “Okay, I’ll give it a shot.”
Noelle smiled, and Jordan took it, unfolding the cloth and applying it to her face. She pushed to attach it firmly, and while she waited, she ducked back into her room to get dressed.
Then came the moment of truth. Peeling off one corner at a time, she said, “If this doesn’t work, I’m gonna—”
Then she saw her face, and her jaw dropped. “How did you do that, Noelle? In one night?”
Noelle nodded, and Jordan was so happy she ran to hug her. “I’m gonna make it to my class in time and look fantastic. You should make more of these!”
The inventor grinned and hugged her friend tightly. “Hey, I’m sorry I’ve been inconsiderate these past few weeks. I’ve just been excited about all these ideas in my head, and when I get an idea, I have to chase it to the end.”
Jordan tipped her head back and reflected. “You know, I’ve been pretty rude too. I’m stressed about school assignments. But just know,” she said, smiling, “I will always make time for you, even if I’m grouchy early in the morning. I’ve gotta run now, but let’s get dinner tonight, huh?”
Noelle nodded, and as her friend raced out the door, she smiled to herself again. At last, everything felt right in her world again.
