Stay Beautiful

by Perry Matlin

  “I’m sorry to hear that, but I can’t say that I’m surprised” he tells me. I hear a hint of acid in his tone. It doesn’t fit there. He doesn’t sound right with that tone of voice.

  “You shouldn’t have forgiven him after that anyway. I’m sorry you had to be hurt that way though” he tells me, and I feel irritated. Who is he to tell me what I should do? He’s not my keeper. I also feel flattered. He seems to care enough about me to want me to be happy. That’s weird. We barely know each other. The two feelings exist simultaneously.

  “Thanks, I think” I say, unsure of what to say. Was he being nice, or presumptive? He laughs at my response. He finds my attitude funny. That makes me feel more irritated. More flattered.

  “Did I say something funny?” I demand, looking away from him. My eyes fill with tears. What an ass. He seems to see that he hurt my feelings because his face drops. He juts out his bottom lip and reaches for my face. Before I can knock his hand away, he’s scooped up an escaped teardrop. He ponders it at the edge of his fingertip. I watch him intently. He notices me staring.

  “I wasn’t trying to laugh at you” he tells me quietly. His voice is smooth, as he wipes the tear away.

  “I didn’t mean to upset you. I just think your attitude is cute” he explains. I smile at him then. It’s a weak smile because I don’t feel particularly happy.

  “Look shortcake. I’m gonna try to never cause another one of those again” he explains. I don’t realize that he called me a nickname, until a second later. I’m about to question it, when he reaches up to touch my face again. I feel myself stiffen, as he turns my face to look directly at him. His fingers are soft, cool to the touch.

  “Shortcake?” I ask him, but he doesn’t answer. He moves in to place a single kiss on my cheek. He pulls away immediately and turns the TV up again. I can still feel the warmth where his lips touched my skin. I resist the urge to reach up and touch the spot. I realize then that I want to feel those lips again. I want to touch them.

  We sit in silence, not speaking a single word, until Josh gets back. While we wait in silence, he watches his car show, and his hand rests against my leg. We don’t speak, but I feel an electric current flowing between us. When Josh comes in, we don’t jump apart. Jesse nonchalantly pulls his hand away from me. It rests two inches from my leg now. I long for the electric current again. I long for his touch, for his kiss.

  “They didn’t have regular, so I got you tabasco, is that okay?” Josh asks, throwing a pack of individually wrapped Slim-Jim’s to Jesse. He catches them easily and looks down at the label of the snacks.

  “Yeah, those are my favorites anyway” he explains, immediately opening one of them. “I didn’t figure they’d have them there though” He takes a bite of the thing, and his eyes close briefly. He sighs gratefully, as he chews it. He notices me staring again and holds it out for me to try. I try to wave it away because I don’t eat stuff like that, but he holds it up again, and I decide to go for it. I take a small bite of it, and the flavor kicks me. It’s spicy, but I find that I like it. I mimic his sigh. Josh snorts from the dining room.

  “Are you guys ready to do this or what?” he demands, looking from Jesse to me. I nod, jumping to my feet. A small movement in my stomach comes to my attention. Are those butterflies?

  Hours later, we’re playing what must be our tenth game of beer pong, or in Jesse’s case Dr. Pepper pong (since he doesn’t drink). I’m really bad. Josh is okay, but getting worse with every drink, and Jesse is amazing. He’s only missed two shots all night. I’ve learned so much about him. He wants to open his own mechanic shop, he’s from Georgia, and he has three siblings. He’s told me that he and his dad aren’t close, his mom is from The Czech Republic, and he’s seventeen.

  “I think I’m done for the night” Josh says, putting the ping-pong ball down. Jesse visibly relaxes. I’m glad it’s over as well. It was getting boring. I look over at the clock on the wall and see that it’s nearly midnight. I can’t go home now. I’m drunk, and I missed curfew. This is bad.

  Josh stumbles to the couch and falls down. He begins flipping through the channels, but then falls off the couch, and knocks everything off the edge of the coffee table, trying to get back up. Jesse leans down and pulls him up. He helps Josh stumble into his room, and I follow behind. When Jesse gets Josh into bed, I cover him up, and turn the light off. We head out into the living room.

  “You wanna go get some food?” he asks me, reaching for his keys. I look around, realizing I have nothing else to do. I nod. He jerks his head, motioning to the driveway. I grab my shoes and follow behind him.

  It’s a muggy night. I can hear crickets, and I can feel the moisture collecting on my arms. Jesse cranks up the car as soon as we get inside. The air conditioning feels glorious on my skin. We pull out of Josh’s yard and drive down the street. I think of Vicky as we pass her house. Her light is off in her room. Jesse drives us down the deserted roads, making our way to the other side of town. We only see one car the whole way. We pull up in front of the What-a-Burger restaurant, and my stomach decides to growl loudly. Jesse laughs, as we pull into the drive-through. I begin to search the menu, as he waits to be served. We order our food and pull off into a parking spot.

  We talk. He starts by asking me questions. My family, interests, music, movies, pets, and everything in between. I answer, opening up, laughing at weird questions. I begin to shoot my own questions in. He shows me some of his music on his iPod, I show him my own sample. He suggests we switch iPods for a couple weeks. I agree nervously. I’ll miss my Taylor Swift music. We end up throwing our trash away and going back through the line for milkshakes. Parking in the same spot, we continue to talk. I’m shocked, when the sky starts to lighten. We’ve been talking for six straight hours. When he finally pulls out of the restaurant and drives me home, my eyes are burning, and it’s nearly impossible to stay awake. He drops me off, but before I get out, he tosses me his iPod. I remember we agreed to switch and hand him mine. Our fingers brush, as he takes it. I head right for my window, not looking back even though I want to. I close my window and hop into bed. Closing my eyes, I start to drift off to sleep. Michael is the furthest thing from my mind.

  Chapter 36

  Dimples

  I push the contents of my food around my plastic tray. I’m not hungry in the slightest. I may have had a day or so off from moping of Michael, but now it’s back in full force. I feel like I’m drowning.

  I’m sitting alone today, having avoided my friends again. I bet they’re wondering where I am. Part of me begins to wonder if I’ll have any friends waiting for me, when I come back to myself, part of me doesn’t care.

  The bell rings, and I hurry to throw my uneaten food in the garbage. I run past the slowly moving crowd and race my way back to my Biology class. I’m the first one back, so I slide into my seat and crank up the music.

  After only one verse someone taps on my shoulder. I look up and with alarm lurch away from my teacher. Her dark hair is hanging down, nearly to my face. She doesn’t look happy. I turn the music off guiltily.

  “I’m so sorry” I blubber, unsure of what to say at being caught red-handed. I can’t let her take this away. It’s not even mine.

  “I didn’t figure it would be a problem, since I got back so early. I’ll put it away” I say, pleading for her to understand.

  “Lucas, I’m not worried about you listening to music. I need to speak with you about your term paper” she explains, and I lighten up immediately. Writing has always been my strong suit, so this won’t be bad.

  “So, I was grading your paper and came across some hyperlinks. It looks like you copy and pasted everything from the web” she says, and I realize where this is going. She thinks I plagiarized my paper.

  I gawk at her, dumbfounded at the insinuation hovering between us. Does she know who she’s talking to? I enjoy research papers. I find constructing them to be fun. I would never cheat myself out of the joy of writing.

  “I swe
ar, I cited all my sources, and made sure not to paraphrase anything. I didn’t do this. I would never plagiarize.” I try to explain to her, and she has sympathy written on her face. Her lips parted sadly.

  “I believe you would never intentionally do this, but maybe you accidentally did so. Citing a paper can be pretty difficult” she explains, and I blush from embarrassment. She thinks I did it because I’m too dumb to do it right? Great.

  The class begins to trickle in at that moment, and she stands up off the desk to tower over me. She has a look of guilt on her face. Is she going to make me redo the paper? It took me hours to do it the first time.

  “I’m not going to report you to the principle because I believe this was done out of ignorance not malice. I am going to give you a zero on the paper though because it is zero tolerance” she explains. The words fall out of her mouth.

  They seem to hover there, floating between us like deadly toxins. She pats my shoulder, leaving me to my own chaos. I just got a zero on a term paper worth forty percent of my final grade. I just failed Biology.

  I begin to cry, silently broken tears slink down my face, warm and treacherous. My friend Lena sits in front of me, her beautiful blonde hair fanning out around her, as she turns to speak to me. She sees my tears, and immediately berates me with questions.

  “What happened? Who made you cry?” she demands, her voice a little loud for the conversation. People are starting to stare. I shake my head, putting my face in my hands in defeat.

  Class ends, and I bolt from the room. I was going to ask her if I could redo the paper. I’ll spend the extra time. I’ll prove that I didn’t plagiarize that paper. I’ll write it right in front of her.

  I know her though. She wouldn’t allow it. She believes the punishment is fair, and that is all that matters to her. She’s a fair woman, but not a kind one. She would shoot it down in a heartbeat.

  I head right for the bathroom and lock myself in a stall. I slump down on the floor and begin to cry. I decide then and there that sixth period can bite me. So can seventh for all I care.

  The last two hours of my school day are spent crying in the bathroom. I am so tired of crying. I feel like I’ve done nothing but cry for the past month. I hate feeling this way. I hate writing, and teachers, and love but most of all I hate Michael.

  When the final bell rings, I head right for the front doors. I can’t handle the bus ride, and I can’t handle people asking me if I’m okay. I’m going to walk home all alone, and I’m going to be fine.

  I follow the path down to the crosswalk. Waiting with the small group of unfamiliar students, I listen to my music Jesse’s music while I wait. It’s different from my taste. It’s not bad though.

  It reminds me of what Max used to listen to, but a bit darker. There are some familiar bands, punk bands. What my sister calls emo music. Then there are the more hardcore songs where they scream.

  It’s not my taste, but it does a good job of distracting me, as I walk through the backroads to my house. I remember when I used to make this walk with Michael. I remember when I had him.

  That takes me on another wave of sadness. I miss him so much, but every single time I think of him, anger floods me. When am I going to move on from this? When will my heart begin to recover?

  I get home, just as it starts raining. The house is empty, and my tears are unseen. I sit under my carport, unwilling to go inside. I sit on the concrete floor, against the brick wall and I cry.

  I pull the hood of my sweater up, and I turn the screaming voices to top volume. I close my eyes, and I let it all come out. I cry about the paper, the boyfriend, and everything else I’ve lost.

  I cry over things I haven’t cried over in months. I begin to think of Max. How is he doing? Should I try to call him? Would I be crying if he hadn’t moved away? Would we still be together?

  He left me for the first person he could. We probably would have suffered the same fate near or far apart. I open my eyes, when I hear the sound of a car door in the absence of music.

  I see with shock that Jesse is walking up to me. Jumping to my feet, I try my best to wipe all the tears away. I don’t want him to see me like this. I probably look so awful regardless.

  “Hey, what’s wrong Luke?” he asks. His voice full of concern. I see then that he has a bag from What-a-Burger and two drinks in his arms. He brought me food. He wants to hang out with me.

  “Um, nothing. I’m okay. You brought me food?” I ask him, my voice croaky with the lack of use. He sees that I’m listening to his iPod and smiles knowingly. He looks at me worriedly again. “I’m seriously fine” I reassure him.

  Jesse sets the food down on the table in front of me. He turns to look at me. His blue eyes are rounder than usual. He looks sad. He hates to see me this way. That makes me feel strange inside.

  “Hey, look at me dimples” he tells me, pushing my chin up until I’m looking at him. “You have way too cute a smile to hide it all the time. I want to see that smile all the time” he explains.

  I don’t think about it. I don’t worry about the fact that we’re in broad day light for all the neighbors to see. I move up to stand on my tip-toes and I kiss his lips eagerly. I’ve been dreaming about this for weeks now.

  He responds enthusiastically, lifting me off my feet. He wraps his arms snugly around me, before backing me against the brick wall I had just been sitting against. I open my eyes in shock.

  Jesse kisses me. It’s not like kissing Max, Josh, or Michael. It’s different. He seems so sure of himself. He seems so good. He’s taller too. I inhale the scent of him. It’s like honey, like the wilderness.

  He breaks away from me suddenly. Setting me down on the ground, I look into his face. I expect to see that gorgeous crooked grin, but instead his face is full of pain. He steps back from me.

  “I can’t do this. I’m sorry, I gotta go” he tells me in a pained voice, and then he runs back to his car. His car disappears into the downpour, and I’m left all alone. I look over at the food he left, and back to where he disappeared.

  I head back inside, my feelings a little hurt from the sudden change. He was into it. I was into it, but then he just wasn’t. I leave the food forgotten outside and lock myself in my room. I don’t cry anymore though. I smile, I giggle, but I don’t cry.

  Chapter 37

  Summer

  I make my way down the slope at the back of our school. I’m free. Today was the last day of school, and now I’m free to lie around my room and be depressed all summer long. Nobody can stop me.

  My bus is loud, full of excited students. It’s like a rabid fever has swiped the sanity of all the people I know to be perfectly quiet. Slowly, they begin to thin out until I’m the last passenger.

  I hate riding the bus because I’m technically not in district of a bus, so I’m out of the way for them, but my mom wanted me to keep this bus, so here I am. I was going to walk home again, but it’s too hot.

  Finally, they drop me off at the end of my road, and I head right for my front door. I’ll be alone for about an hour, before everyone comes in around the same time. I decide to jam to some music before anyone has the chance to complain about it.

  I plug Jesse’s iPod into my stereo, and his loud music fills my empty house. I then head out into the kitchen to fix a snack. I smile the whole way through. I feel normal. For once.

  I’m still heartbroken about Michael, but I’m handling it now. I guess kissing Jesse gave me the insight that Michael is not the be-all-end-all of love. He’s actually pretty average, biases aside.

  I’m not happy, and I’ll still be sad for a long time, but kissing someone else showed me that I can move on. I can be happy one day. Michael hasn’t destroyed me permanently. I will love again.

  I eat my snack, waiting for everyone to get home. Antonio is supposed to cook tonight. My mom got a bonus, and we are going shopping as a family tomorrow. This should be interesting.

  I know I should be excited, but it always goes the same way. My sisters
want everything they see, my mom gets irritated as Antonio checks out other girls, and we end up driving home to a screaming match between them both. It’s exhausting.

  Finally, everyone begins to get home, and to my utter surprise every single member of my family is in a good mood. Maybe we have the chance of having one normal weekend.

  I think about how different things were last year. I was headed to my dad’s house for the summer, Antonio was nowhere to be found, my mom and sister went to Kansas, and Alyssa went to summer camp.

  Now we’re planning a day to the mall, and a family dinner. This is such a one-hundred-eighty-degree difference. It almost causes me to burst out in laughter. They would all stare at me like I’m crazy.

  I head over to the table and sit on the computer. My sisters head off to their rooms, my mom turns on some old country music, and Antonio starts getting ready to cook. Alyssa joins me at the table. She’s working on a puzzle, while we wait.

  Crystal comes out and is drawing on a piece of paper. We’re all doing our own thing, but we are all together. It’s a rare moment of peace in our home, and I’m here for it.

  I continue to surf MySpace, as everything goes on around me. With a feeling of accomplishment, I click the unfriend button on Michael’s page. The food begins to waft its scent throughout the house. When it’s finished, we all gather around and pile our plates hungrily.

  I walk to the table with my food, expecting everyone to join me. Instead, I’m left alone to eat while everyone else heads into the living room to watch a movie while they eat their food.

  I take the first bite and roll my eyes in pleasure. The food is so good. He may be an abusive jerk, but the guy can definitely cook. I continue to eat, as the previews play before the movie.