The Boy in the Mirror: Finding Love in the Strangest of Ways

by Bonny Capps

  The Boy in the Mirror

  Finding Love in the Strangest of Ways

  Written by Bonny Capps

  For my little boys Mitchell and Damon. Always follow your heart. Also, to my best friend and partner in crime Dusty. I love you.

  Cover Credit: Rosario Rizzo

  “Two possibilities exist: either we are alone in the universe or we are not. Both are equally terrifying.”

  – Arthur C. Clarke

  The Boy in the Mirror

  Copyright Bonny Capps 2014

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission from the author.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person (alive or dead) is coincidental. The characters and story were created strictly from the author’s imagination.

  This ebook is licensed for your enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy.

  Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Chapter One

  As I stand in front of my cherry wood carved mirror, I look myself up and down. From my worn feet, scars of my trade written on my toes, my big toes crooked from the pressure I put on them every day. I’m a ballet dancer with big dreams; I’ve been dancing since I could walk. It is my life in its entirety.

  I just got back from a grueling practice. I’m wearing my yoga pants which hang off of my lanky hips. My stomach exposed and my breasts restricted from my sports bra, wisps of amber hair falling from my tight bun. My eyes are wide and weary; I look like a wild animal that’s just been trapped in a cage. I can’t help but to feel just that – trapped.

  My stomach feels like a guitar cord struck from the hungry fingers of a musician. The rhythm travels up my chest to my throat. It makes its way up to my quivering lip and then to my cheeks and finally my eyes. Releasing salty tears, they travel back down in the direction of where it all began.

  I wonder why I am so sad, so desolate. It could be my mother... or my father – No. It's me. I can’t cast the blame of my feelings onto my parents. Although they are absent, although my mother prefers a bottle of vodka rather than my company. I must not be that important.

  Wait, she's depressed? It's not her fault. Maybe it's my father's fault? He does despise me, I'm not a boy and after my birth she couldn't have any more children, which meant she couldn't have a boy. All of my father's friends and colleagues could. They all attend their football games and he would have too, alongside of them. Why not him? His anguish is a constant reminder. His sneer remarks jab me daily, I can’t fathom being in the same room as him.

  “What's wrong with me?” I whisper, my reflection is a grim reminder of who I am, what I was born into. I have my father's hazel eyes and my mother's round face and lush lips. People tell me that I look like a porcelain doll. I can't see it. Sadie and her clan of mean girls at school can’t see it.

  I turn and glance around my room, the wooden floor cold on my feet. My full sized bed looks great right about now, satin purple sheets and my white down comforter. It looks so good but I know once I lay down I will be haunted by my racing mind, racing thoughts, racing heart. Until I finally drift away and dream of dancing under a giant crystal chandelier with a boy with no face.

  I wipe my tears away with the back of my wrist and turn to grab my cell phone from my dresser. “1 Missed Call” lights up on the LED screen. Matthew called. Handsome with his boyish grin and deep dimples, his contact picture shines up at me. My father and his served together when we were just infants. Now here we are at 17, about to begin our senior year of high school and the best of friends. I always admired his outgoing personality. We are so opposite, him with his popularity and me with my only friends, him and McKenzie, my bubbly spiral haired friend I met in first grade. They definitely keep my feet planted, that's for sure.

  “Hey” I mumble once he picks up the phone. “Hey you!” He exclaims. I can hear his profound smile on the other end of the line. “What are you up to?” He asks. I sit on the side of my bed and pick at my thumbnail. “The usual, just got back from dance practice. I'm trying to prepare for the big recital next Saturday.” I murmur.

  “Well I was thinking about scooping you up, maybe go watch a movie, hang at the park.” He responds.

  A few seconds slip by as I lie on my back and yawn, “Matthew it's 8:30... I'm tired. Besides that would mean that I would have to sneak past Satan downstairs and you know-” I jump at the gentle tapping on my balcony door. “I'm here, too late.” Matthew is outside, head cocked to the side with a cute grin on his face, holding his phone to his ear. His hair careless as usual, and he’s wearing a white t-shirt and jeans.

  I smile as I lift myself off the bed and walk to the door, a playful pout on my face. I unlock the door and he barges through, almost knocking me over in a friendly embrace. He spins me around and plants a kiss on my cheek. “My dear!” He says in his silly, made up English accent. “Where have you been all my life?” I return in my horrid impression. He laughs and releases me. He grips my arms, peering into my swollen eyes.

  His face turns from carefree to serious in a split second, “Mands, what’s wrong?” I can’t help but look down at my red toenails. A couple of seconds tick by as he waits for a response. “Look, I have chocolate...” He says as he pulls out a bag of Reese’s’ Pieces from his backpack. I smile as he grabs my hand and we sit on the side of my bed and become engulfed in conversation.

  “I don't know why you beat yourself up so much Mands... I mean, I know your dad can be a total jerk but you're an amazing dancer and a really good person. I hate to see you so sad.” Matthew says as we lay down facing each other, tilting his head as it's rested on his hand with his fingers through his light brown shaggy hair. He looks concerned as his sweet, brown eyes search mine, twinkling from the white Christmas lights wrapped around the posts of my bed. The only light source, it's casting a soft glow throughout my room.

  I lay on my back. I have taken my hair from the tight bun and it is cascading over my white feathered down comforter. “I don’t know, sometimes I just feel so useless.” I whisper, looking away from Matthew who has tried to hold my eyes captive. He can’t allow that, he never does.

  He gently touches my chin, turning my head to once again look into his eyes, “Look Mandy, you are not – I repeat you are not and could not ever be useless. You are my best friend; you have been my best friend since I can remember. I hate that you could ever feel this way. And if that piece of shit dare to even lay a finger on you-” He trails off and his lips form into a tight line. “What Matthew? What if he does? What will you or anyone else do about it?” I ask. Now I've lost his eyes, they have found an imaginary spot to hide on the wall.

  Who is he kidding? He knows my father, the pillar of society. He is a powerful and charming man when he wants to be. He is also quite wealthy, well for this little town of Forest Grove he is anyways.

  We sit in silence, me looking at my comforter and tracing my finger over the threading and Matthew looking at his spot on the wall. Finally, Matthew lets out a deep sigh and lifts himself up in a seated position. He looks down at me, and forces a halfhearted smile. He pats my leg and stands, “Got to go Mands, ready for senior year?” He asks.

  Tomorrow is my first day of the last year in high school and yes I am ready, for it
to be over with that is. “I guess. Are you coming to scoop me up in the morning?” I ask, forcing a weak smile. “You know it, Sadie is coming along.” My smile slowly disappears. I had nearly forgotten that they were dating. He’s my best friend, being stolen away by that snobby bitch. I should have seen it coming… my gorgeous, sweet, charming football player who is my best friend. “OK.” I say, my voice is small, obviously small.

  He makes his way down from the balcony. I lock the door behind him and make my way to my dresser; I pull a t shirt over my head and remove my yoga pants. I hear a roar outside, from Matthews Mustang. I’m not sure how I missed that earlier; the thoughts must have been running too deep.

  I sit on my bed and pull my knees up to my chest. Matthew has always been a huge part of my life. I have always second guessed my importance to him. How could we mutually rely on each other in the same regard? He seems to be stable and strong and confident, me – not so much. I slip beneath my comforter and the thoughts continue. I will my body to sleep by repeating in my head, “Relax toes, relax souls, relax heavy heart, relax heavy mind”... and then I surrender to sweet, sweet sleep.

  My alarm begins beeping wildly, I pry my eyes open. Bright morning light floods into my room though my sheer curtains, casting a blue ambiance throughout my room. I turn off my alarm and roll onto my back, resting my arm on my forehead. Remembering what Matthew said, I have to see her this morning. I have to see Queen Bitch of the bitch crew. I scramble out of bed and turn on my shower. I get in and feel the water beat against the top of my head. Oh it feels good. I feel alive again. Maybe I can tackle the world today? Maybe not? The odds are definitely against me.

  I pull on my skinny jeans and my black camisole and my button up checkered shirt. I slip on my red flats and wrap my damp hair into a bun. I apply a little mascara and lip gloss and make my way to the door. I hold my hand on the handle for a short time. I squeeze my eyes shut and let out a sigh from the depths of my gut. Ready Mandy? As ready as I'll ever be.

  I make my way down the hall, stopping by my mother's room – her sanctuary which she never leaves. The heavy oak door is slightly ajar. I peek in, resting a hand on the door frame. There she is, my mother – if you could call her that. She is sleeping soundly in her four post bed, covered with the brown and pink quilt my grandmother made her years ago. The windows are covered with heavy, black curtains – keeping the light from peering in. The room has a soft glow from the lamp across the room; the furniture is casting tall shadows which stretch across the wood floor. Her frayed hair is over the majority of her face, her mouth partially open and her side moves along with her shallow breathing. I lean against the door frame. “I love you mom.” I whisper, my voice shaking. Trying hard not to wake this once beautiful being I call my mother.

  I quietly make my way downstairs and am relieved to see that my father must have gone to work early. Mary, our elderly housekeeper and the woman who pretty much helped raise me is in the kitchen pouring orange juice into a glass. “Hey sweetie, are you ready for your first day?” She asks as she beams up at me. Mary has something about her, it’s so comforting. Her long grey hair is always pulled up into a messy bun and ever since I can remember she’s worn the same dark, thick rimmed glasses. When I’m cold she keeps me warm, when I am sick she makes me well, when I am sad she tries her damndest to make me happy. I wish I could be happy, happy for Mary and happy for myself.

  “As ready as I'll ever be.” I reply, smiling at her caring face. She puts the orange juice and waffles on the bar and gestures for me to sit. She reaches towards me from across the marble bar and puts her withered hand on my wrist, “You will do great honey.” And just like that she shuffles out of the kitchen, leaving me alone to anticipate. I finish my breakfast and hear a roaring engine outside. Matthew. Here goes nothing. I grab my bag and hurry out the door.

  “Well hello darling!” Matthew exclaims as he holds the black Mustang’s door ajar. Where is Sadie? Matthew allows me to sit and then closes the door behind me. He runs around the back end of the car, gets in and turns the key, igniting a roar from the engine. I smile up at him and switch on the radio. “So?” I ask, looking at him quizzically as I buckle my seatbelt. “What?” He asks, looking down at me with a smirk on his face. “Sadie?” I respond, my curiosity at its peak. “Oh... yeah her… Well apparently Brett Wilson is more entertaining to her needs.” He responds, his smile never letting down.

  Oh Matthew can I just have a bit of that confidence? “What! Brett Wilson? But you're just, you're just you and he's... He’s him!” I exclaim, Matthew laughs and looks down at me. “No big deal Mands, she was too high maintenance anyways, can you believe that she broke up with me over text? Text!” He exclaims as he pulls out of my driveway. I smile and shake my head. My eyes travel the side view mirror. My house sits beautifully on a hill. Its wood paneling is in pristine condition. The front porch extends out and steps lead down to the stone walk way. Red tea roses are kept in perfect condition thanks to Mary. They’re my mom’s favorite flower and they line the walk way, all the way up to our half circle driveway.

  We make our way down the winding roads and into town as I watch the trees pass us by in a flash. Forest Grove is a close knit community, everybody knows everybody - which can be a benefit but also not. The streets in the town are lined up with old, brick buildings and antique street lamps that light the way at night. I guess you could say it’s rather peaceful; the people that live here often have lived here their entire lives. They settle for the familiar, they raise their families here and their children will probably do the same. I have always wanted to venture out, discover the world. However, my heart tells me that there is no leaving Forest Grove.

  My heart starts picking up the pace as we enter the school's parking lot. Oh boy. Here goes nothing. Matthew parks his car and I sit and prepare, my wild eyes examining the brown, brick depreciated building. My father went to this school. There is a picture of him and his football team lined up with the many others over the years in the glass case that sits inside of the entrance. The school is surrounded with trees that have already started to change their color with fall approaching. Come on, slow breaths Mandy, slow breaths. Before I know it Matthew is making his way around the car and opens my door. He reaches for my hand; I grab his and make my way out of the car.

  Matthew and I walk up to the entrance in the middle of the courtyard, lush with trees and red and orange flowers, the student body drifting in every which direction, groups sitting under the shade of trees, others standing in groups, laughing and carrying on. Damn, they seem excited to be here I think sarcastically, smiling to myself.

  “MANDS!” McKenzie exclaims, running up to me. Her beautiful black ringlets bouncing up and down, she is gorgeous with her deep, caring green eyes and milky skin. I envy her voluptuous full figure that all the guys can’t help but notice. “Aw, Kenz I missed you!” I smile as we exchange a hug. I’ve not seen her for most of the summer, she went vacationing overseas. I can’t help the jealousy I feel, her life is exciting. She has parents that love her and cherish her. She constantly gets to travel. I love her, but the envy sometimes gets in the way – in my mind anyways.

  She lets go and smiles sweetly up at Matthew, “Hey Matthew.” McKenzie almost whispers, looking at him through her long eyelashes. Wait – What? I look from her to him. “Kenz.” He responds with a smile as he runs his hand through his hair. I look back at McKenzie in awe. Matthew turns on his heal and makes his way towards his team, they all stand in a circle. I smile at McKenzie as she watches him walk away. “Well?” I ask. “What?” She replies slyly.

  McKenzie loops her arm through mine and we continue up the stairs and make our way into the entrance. Same beginning of school talk, what have I been doing all summer, how's my mom and how's Satan... How's dance etc. The usual. We walk between the rows of orange lockers when something abruptly slams into my shoulder, hard enough to knock my back pack from me. “Watch it, retard!”

  Oh, I know that voice before I
even have to turn around. Sadie is standing with her hands rested on her hips. Her blond hair is parted perfectly in the middle and rests on her shoulders. Her blue eyes look like ice. Ugh, I hate the smirk on her face and her perfect little nose. Her bitch crew stands behind her; they all look at me so disapprovingly.

  I reach down and retrieve my backpack as McKenzie swiftly steps between Sadie and I. “How about you watch it Blondie, I clearly saw you so rudely – purposely bump into my friend.” She huffs, crossing her arms. Sadie cocks her head and smiles at McKenzie, then steps to the side and makes direct eye contact with me, “Next time, I'm not going to be so nice.” She says as she turns quickly, her hair whipping around her back and continues down the hall. “God, she is such a bitch.” McKenzie murmurs, her eyes following Sadie. “Tell me about it.” I reply. I feel my cheeks and ears burn. I was cursed with excessive blushing.

  Finally I'm at my locker after saying my hellos to acquaintances and teachers. I open the door and begin filling it up with my books and supplies. I look up at a plastic framed mirror which is attached to the locker door. I look exhausted. I tossed and turned the majority of the night, this is probably why. However, I keep feeling like it's something more. Deep down there is such a sadness that I stow away. It haunts me every day. I want to be happy. I need to be happy, more than anything. I try and stay away from sad things, sad music and sad movies... all of it. But to no avail. I sigh, still staring back at myself.

  I cringe as the loud ringing of the school bell echoes down the hall. How long have I been standing here? Pretty much everyone has made their way to their classes and I'm standing here like a freak. I slam the locker door shut and rush to class.

  After a busy first day of meeting new teachers and discovering new agenda's, last period closes to an end. I walk to my locker and free the lock. I put my books neatly in their place and take another glimpse at myself in the mirror before shutting the door.