They all waited a few minutes for Arielle to break down and come out, but it seemed she had gone into hiding. “This is retarded,” said Ava. “She has two minutes to get her little ass out here or I’m going inside.”
“C’mon Arielle, please! We’re about to lose Ava!” cried Gabriel, but still she didn’t appear. “Fine; I’m coming in to get you!” he yelled as he started running towards the door.
Arielle heard that and panicked; Gabriel was the last person she wanted to see right then! So she searched the room for a quick place to hide and climbed inside the big wooden wardrobe. The hangers were still clanging together above her head when, not a moment later, he was standing in her doorway listening for her. She remained perfectly still, hoping to be invisible behind the fabric of a few dresses. He stepped inside. “Arielle where are you?” The bedroom was seemingly empty. He knelt down to look under the bed, but she wasn’t hiding there. He looked under the desk and behind the door, but saw her in none of those places. There was only one place left to check: the wardrobe.
As Gabriel took slow, quiet steps towards the wardrobe, Arielle began to quiver as she tried desperately to make her body as small and insignificant as possible. She could see him approaching through the cracks in the wood, tiptoeing closer and in any second, he would fling open the door. She prayed he wouldn’t.
“Aha!” he said as she reached in to reveal the skinny, orangey creature inside who was hiding her face with blotchy, stained hands that sported ultralong fake nails. “Arielle?” he asked, confused and almost frightened. Her blue eyes peeked out at him from behind spread fingers and he started to laugh. “What did you do to yourself? Come out of there!” he demanded.
He offered her his hand, but she just shrunk herself into a smaller ball, wrapping her arms tightly around her knees. “Aww come on, Arielle. Come out and ref our game; no one will care that you look like a rabid Miami house hobbit!” Arielle shamefully fretted, wishing he would just leave her alone.
“What’s the hold-up?” she heard a girl’s voice ask just as Erica peeked her own head in. Even more embarrassed now, Arielle reached out her streaky, orange arm and pulled the wardrobe door tightly shut. Certain that Erica was about to start laughing at her too, she was shocked to hear Erica stepping up and taking over the situation, without a second’s hesitation. “Run and tell the fam to start without us,” she told Gabriel as she shooed him out and pulled the bedroom door shut.
She knelt down in front of the wardrobe. “You can come out, it’s just us now,” she said, but Arielle stayed put. Erica slowly pulled the wardrobe door open to find her crouched like a child in hiding. Erica giggled at the sight. As she giggled, Arielle’s contempt for her grew. She, with her naturally bronzed epidermis that required no smelly lotion; she, with her easy laugh and way with words; she, who never had to trade her voice for a chance to get close to the boy they both wanted. Erica stood before her so effortlessly and it vexed Arielle that her feet didn’t have to feel the sharp pain of pointy knives in every step. It took every ounce of restraint Arielle possessed not to jump out and violently attack her, and to scratch her pretty almond eyes out with those flaming orange nails.
“Okay, okay, no more making fun,” said Erica, sensing Arielle’s rage. She straightened the smile from her face and got down to business. “Is this what I think it is? A self-tanning blunder?” she asked knowingly. Arielle shrugged, then nodded. “Alright then, I have just the thing. Wait here.”
Arielle sat perfectly still in the wardrobe for several minutes while Erica bustled around in the kitchen downstairs. When she finally came back, she was carrying an armload of various items and solutions from the kitchen.
“Alright you can climb out of there now,” she said. Arielle wasn’t sure why she was listening to her, but slowly and gingerly, she came out of hiding and followed her to the bathroom. Sitting down on the edge of the tub, Erica sprinkled baking soda onto a scrubbing brush wrapped in a damp facecloth. “This’ll help to exfoliate and make the streaks less obvious,” she said. The scrubbing scratched Arielle’s delicate face and it hurt but she bore it, just like she’d bore every other pain that seemed to come part and parcel with life on land. When she was done scrubbing the face and arms, she applied lemon juice with cotton pads to help lighten her skin further. While Erica worked on her, Arielle wore a glum face. “Aww, don’t feel too bad,” said Erica, trying to lighten the mood. “I think every girl has screwed this up once. Mine was the winter of 2009.”
Arielle did feel bad, but not so much about the discoloration of her skin anymore as the fact that Erica, the person she had been plotting against, was the one taking the time to help her out of an embarrassing situation. This was not the way she had planned it! Her plan was to emerge so tan and beautiful that she would outshine any olive-skinned hussy who crossed her path, not to suddenly need Erica’s help, thereby indebting herself to her rival. No, this was not the way she had pictured her afternoon, and her disappointment was written all over her face. Her eyes seemed to ask, why are you being nice to me?
“It’s funny how people always seem to want what they weren’t meant to have, isn’t it?” asked Erica as she took the lemon-soaked cotton to Arielle’s eyebrows, being careful not to get citrus juice in her eyes. “Take me for example,” she continued. “When I was a little kid, I used to tan so dark in the summer and I hated it. I wanted to look just like all the pretty fair-skinned blondes in my class, the ones that all the boys liked. “But once I learned to play the hand I was dealt, things began to really turn around for me!”
Arielle sat with her eyes closed while Erica swabbed her ears with lemon juice to take the drip stains off her lobes. She couldn’t imagine anyone wanting pale white skin over sun-kissed gold.
“I say, own it!” said Erica with zest. “If you’re pale, be Nicole Kidman pale and wear SPF 45 like you prefer it that way. Trust me, Arielle, so much of what is appealing in a person is directly proportional to the value they themselves place on such attributes.”
Outside in the yard, Mud Dog Football was well underway and the fun-loving shrieks and hollers of the new sport could be heard through the bathroom window. As usual, Arielle wished she could be out having fun in the rain with them but as usual, she was stuck inside, missing out. She watched as Erica glanced up from the lemony Q-Tips she swabbed her with to laugh at all the fun they were having, and, as Arielle noticed, the fun that Erica, too, was missing out on.
Arielle, with her irritated skin and dissipating hatred, began to realize that the mind-numbing jealousy she’d been feeling towards Erica had been blinding her to what was really going on. She realized as she was being gently buffed by Erica’s kind hands that she had been engaged in a one-sided war against a girl who clearly didn’t see it that way at all. Erica may have been her biggest rival in the most important contest of her life, but while she played against Erica, Erica played against no one and that was why she was winning. It became clear that to Erica, there was no contest, only love.
The next day, while the afternoon sun was just over the hump, Erica and Arielle brought towels and a jug of iced tea to the beach to watch their boy surf. They were into the hottest days of summer now, when even in the chilly, North Pacific waters there were a precious few days when surfers could skip the wetsuit and take to the waves in bathers and board shorts. Erica wore a frilly marmalade-coloured bikini while Arielle wore a bucket hat, big sunglasses and an oversize long-sleeved nightie. Once again, Arielle found herself lying next to Erica feeling small and insignificant. While Erica soaked up the daylight like a ripening mango in the tropics, Arielle kept herself concealed, shy about her pale areas but now even more shy about her streaky ones.
Erica rolled onto her stomach to tan her back and suddenly her perfectly round, tight bottom was face-up and on display. Trying to draw her eyes away from it, Arielle noticed a dark brown imperfection on her shoulder that she hadn’t ever noticed before. It kind of looked like a small slug or something but it appeared to be atta
ched to the skin, and Arielle delighted in finally finding an imperfection on the seemingly flawless masterpiece that was Erica. While Erica lay face-down and unaware, Arielle leaned in really close to see what it was. Slowly, she stalked it, her pinching fingers at the ready to pluck it swiftly off her back the way a beak plucks a worm from the dirt . . .
“OWWW!” yelped Erica as she whipped her hand back to cover the now-sore birthmark. “What the eff?” she demanded.
Arielle looked confused. She didn’t know it would hurt it to pinch it.
“It’s my mole, okay?!” wailed Erica. “I’ve already gotten it checked; it’s benign. So we definitely won’t be needing anyone to PINCH it with their pointy acrylic talons, okay?” She smacked Arielle’s hands away and rubbed the skin around the mole, half in pain, half laughing. Arielle smiled, looking a little embarrassed. Then she kissed her thumb and transferred the kiss to the mole.
“Thank you,” said Erica sarcastically. But peculiarly enough, she felt no more throbbing and in fact it felt perfectly normal again. “Thank you for that,” she said, sounding surprised. Arielle smiled and lay back down, satisfied that the funny brown marking was permanent. Erica looked at her thoughtfully, as if chewing on something she wasn’t sure she should say . . . then she just went for it. “I hope this isn’t rude of me to ask,” she began uncomfortably, “but have you always been a mute?”
Arielle’s face darkened. Not in an angry way, but in a sad way that said she’d exhausted all her anger and all that was left was a deep, dull melancholy. She bitterly missed having a voice, for hers had had the power to enchant, and that if she still possessed it, its pretty notes would amplify her physical beauty in the eyes of the people the same way it always had for her under the sea. Ironic, she thought, that she had been her prettiest when there was no one around she cared to impress. She shook her head ‘no.’ No, you ignorant urchin, she thought, No, I’ve not always been mute.
“I didn’t think so,” said Erica, sounding relieved to have gotten that question out of the way. How nice for you, thought Arielle. She was learning sarcasm, even if she would only ever get to apply it within the confines of her inner monologue.
“I hope you don’t mind, but there is something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about, or, . . . say . . . at you,” started Erica awkwardly. Arielle’s eyes were closed but she could still see Gabriel’s wet body plunging in and out of the sea atop his smooth blue board. She could sense that Erica was about to start talking about something she wouldn’t like to acknowledge so she kept her eyes closed and lay there motionless. “I think I’m falling in love with Gabriel,” said Erica. Arielle cringed. “I’m falling very quickly and very hard . . . it’s crazy, really. It’s all so new to me!” Erica smiled nervously but excitedly. Arielle kept perfectly still, pretending to be asleep, pretending she didn’t hear any of that.
“I know you’re awake, Arielle,” said Erica with a nudge, ruining the charade just like she often ruined Arielle’s plans. Slowly and grudgingly, Arielle sat up, removed her sunglasses, and glared into her enemy’s eyes with a look that seemed to demand ‘why are you telling me this?’
Erica gathered her thoughts carefully, not wanting to say the wrong thing. “I know you haven’t known the O’Faolains very long, but I can tell you adore them, and I know they all love you as if you were part of the family.” She didn’t want to lay it on too thick, but wanted to buffer her point nicely without appearing disingenuous. “You make them all very happy just being here, just being your quiet, mysterious and almost unreasonably talented self.” Arielle smiled half-heartedly, for compliments, as sweet as they were for her ego, taunted her; her charms and talents felt worthless if they weren’t helping her to win. Erica leaned forward and looked her in the eyes. “I know Gabriel loves you like family, but, well . . . there are times when I catch you looking at him in a way that makes me think that perhaps it all goes a bit deeper than that for you.” Arielle shyly glanced away. She dug her toenails into the sand and fidgeted uncomfortably. “And I hope I’m not overstepping myself by saying this,” Erica continued, “but there are times when, I don’t know why, but I could swear that HE is the reason you came here . . . from whatever distant, unknowable place it is you came from.” Arielle froze, and wondered what else she knew. “I can tell that you have a crush on him,” Erica blurted.
Arielle lowered her eyes and shrunk into herself, helpless to stop Erica from saying more. “I understand if you think you love him but trust me, one day, you’ll know what real love feels like, and you’ll know that this is just a bit of infatuation!” said a chipper, hopeful-sounding Erica. Arielle was shocked that she was being told that by her, and wondered what on earth made her think she was qualified to make that judgment. He was not simply a crush! He was her love, he just didn’t know it, and he might never see it because she was in their way.
“I like you a lot, Arielle,” she said. “And I would just feel a lot better knowing that you and I have some kind of understanding. I know how much you mean to him, and how much he means to you. You mean a lot to me too now and I just want you to know that I love him and I didn’t mean to take him, or anything, from you.” Arielle was crestfallen. She watched Erica’s lips move but refused to hear another word out of her mouth. She thought seriously for a moment about luring her to the water’s edge, dragging her under, and drowning her. The idea made her sick, but so did the idea of losing out and dying herself so she entertained the fantasy. Of course she would have to go into the water with her, which would mean getting her legs wet. She’d have to wade in and pull her down, and she would probably see her tail but it would be okay because she’d lose consciousness soon enough anyway. There would be a few big bubbles, followed by a few smaller bubbles, until all the air was siphoned from her lungs and replaced with salty ocean. Then she would know what it was like. The water needn’t even be very deep . . .
Arielle was disturbed by her own dark and murderous thoughts, and couldn’t believe they were going on inside her own head. Impulsively, she stood up and ran away from Erica, frightened of what she might do if Erica insisted on continuing to call her exquisite love, simply a crush. She ran for the house and locked herself in the bathroom, sat down in the deep tub and covered her ears with her palms. She would not hear another word about it.
Erica, feeling bad for having upset her, stood up and was about to follow her in when she saw the man on both their minds approaching from the water.
“Polar bear hug!!” he shouted as he ran at her, ocean-cold body ready to tackle her down to her towel. He propped himself up on his elbows and brought his cold, wet lips to hers, and the frigid water from his board shorts dripped uncomfortably onto her hot skin. She let out a surprised screech as the first drops landed on her, but she couldn’t object when he lowered his freezing, wet torso down onto her warm body and laid a three-second make-out on her like she’d never had before.
He pulled his lips from hers and rested his forehead on hers. “I’m really looking forward to our date tonight,” he said. Water dripped from his hair to her face.
“Me too,” she said, blinking the saltwater from her eyes. His touch made her chest pound so raucously, it was as if her heart grew a fist just to savagely bang it off her ribcage. There was no doubt about it; their bodies were on board with whatever their hearts and minds were planning.
Erica stood waiting beside the garage, in a red dress she’d bought a year before but had been saving for the right occasion. It had even gone with her on her travels but had remained untouched in its garment bag, at the ready for a swanky soiree to pop up. She even had lipstick on to match - a deep and demure red - also an old purchase but also on its inaugural spin. She liked lipstick a lot and had dozens of shades ranging from pale nudes to almost purples but the truth was, none of them got very much wear, if any at all. She collected all color and manner of cosmetic, even though she habitually forwent them in favour of a more natural look. She had scores of tubes and palettes with hardly a swipe a
cross them. To her, their value rested not in their utility but in the idea that they were her feminine indulgence, a weakness that was, she felt, every now and then deserving of a bit of frivolity.
As she stepped side to side, breaking in shoes that were also as yet unworn, moths and mosquitoes did their sputtering dance against the yellow bulb that hung from the garage wall. She smacked her lips and twirled her hair while she guessed where he might be taking her. Then she heard his footsteps behind her and turned to see him holding a bouquet of daisies for her. She accepted them, breathed them - then kissed him a very sweet thank-you. Thank you. No, thank youuu.
When Erica noticed the picnic basket Gabriel was carrying, it became clear he wasn’t taking her anywhere with a Zagat rating. “You look ravishing,” he said, “I’ve always loved you in red.”
She’d waited her whole life for a boy to drop the word ‘ravishing’ on her. “Thanks,” she replied, ruffling the dress in her fingers.
“And those shoes . . .” he continued, staring lustfully down at her ankles. “I think I feel a fetish awakening right now, but unfortunately you might have to rethink them for this particular evening.”
“Well where are you taking me?” she asked as she stepped out of her hot shoes. “You said you made reservations so I only assumed . . .”
“The destination is a surprise,” he said, “But we’ve had reservations at this spot for over a decade, and the hike over is a real treat.”
Erica was caught completely off guard. The HIKE? She had been looking forward to an elegant evening but was down for whatever Gabriel had in mind so she swapped her sexy heels for an old pair of cowboy boots, took Gabriel’s hand and gladly followed him into the dusk.
Lovesick Little Page 24