‘I told you the deal. Get someone to take Emily’s nose and I’ll take the rest of her.’
‘I guess you dodged bullet Naso, even if I didn’t get lucky.’
They’re pissing themselves laughing at me.
You’re the freaking jerk! I want to shout, but I hold the tears back until I’m at home, lying on my bed. I hate that in a bad week, this is what’s made me cry.
It’s not just guys calling me ugly, it’s feeling ugly. It’s believing that my nose is grotesque, and maybe the rest of me is too. It’s the whole school wondering why Adriana and the Tens are hanging around with me when I’m clearly not one of them. It’s the shame of envying Ade for her appearance, letting myself think, If I looked like that, my whole life would be different. It’s Theo. Feeling like I missed out on someone like that because I don’t look the way she does.
Mum pops her head round my door. ‘Sweetheart, what’s wrong?’
I know she’s surprised. I don’t do a lot of crying.
‘You’ll think it’s stupid,’ I say, and swipe my hand across my nose, feeling gross. ‘I feel out of place and ugly.’
‘Ugly?’ Mum’s frowning as she sits down on the bed beside me.
‘People have been saying things.’ I sniff. ‘You know, about my nose, and other stuff. I know the guys in my class are dumb, but it still hurts. Maybe if I looked different, they’d leave me alone.’
If I didn’t have this nose.
I don’t need to be stratospherically beautiful, just normal. Normal enough to slide under the radar, so I won’t be called names or see guys shudder at the thought of me. I want to be Emily again, not Naso.
‘You know, just because someone desires you doesn’t mean they respect you,’ Mum says. ‘The good thing about this situation is you’re seeing these boys’ true colours. You wouldn’t want to date someone like that, would you? It’s worse for the girls they go after, you know, because they only see this stuff down the track.’
I know what she’s saying is true, but it doesn’t make any of this easier.
‘Your job isn’t to be easy on someone’s eyes,’ Mum says. ‘I know the world can make you feel like that’s how it works because you’re a woman, but you don’t have to play along. You have a purpose, and maybe that’s not to be a supermodel, but that doesn’t mean you don’t count. Maybe you’re here to create things and move other people. That’s a pretty special thing, you know.’
I wipe my eyes and sit up.
Mum sighs. ‘It’s never easy hearing people insult you. I don’t know if it gets any better when you get older either.’
‘This motivational talk is going downhill fast,’ I joke. But, amazingly, she has made me feel a little better.
‘All I can do is emphasise how important it is to learn to love yourself. Self-worth, self-esteem, self-confidence — there’s a reason these words start with “self”. It has to begin in here.’ She taps her chest. Then she squeezes my hand and gets up off the bed. ‘You are pretty, Em, but you’re so much more than that too.’
Mr Morrison calls me over the next day as I’m leaving class. ‘We’re only two weeks out from the hand-in date for your paintings,’ he says. ‘Even though yours isn’t finished yet, it’s clear to me that it should be included in the emerging artists’ exhibition.’
I stare at him. I’ve daydreamed about being picked, but I assumed it would be final-year students who’d be given the opportunity. ‘My piece is going to be in the gallery?’
I think of how I’m going to have a work hanging on the wall of an actual art gallery, how Mum and Ade and Theo can come and see it there.
‘I think oil painting is your forte, Emily.’ Mr Morrison leans over to give me a high-five.
Maybe you’re here to create things, Mum’s voice repeats in my head.
Secret Thoughts of Adriana Andersson
I’ve always hated the story of The Ugly Duckling. When I was little, I hated it because I felt so sad for the duckling, how it was tormented by its brothers and sisters and pushed away by everyone it wanted love from.
When I got older, I hated it because Mum and Dad used it as an example to make me feel better. Whenever they started on about it, I’d think, Way to go, guys, you’re not even hiding the fact that you think I’m an eyesore.
I’d look them in the eye and say, ‘I don’t want to be ugly’, and of course they’d insist that wasn’t what they meant. What they meant was, I hadn’t found my real people yet, that the other kids at school didn’t understand me because I didn’t act like them, but one day I’d become a swan and they’d all be in awe of me.
Yeah, right, I’d think. And my fairy godmother will come knocking around the same time.
Sometimes I wonder if Mum was still alive and could see me now, would she claim that she and Dad were right all along?
No, you weren’t, I imagine myself telling her. I might have transformed, but I don’t feel any better.
When the duckling became a swan, he was meant to find his place in the world. He was meant to be happy and well-adjusted, and not have hang-ups about what happened to him in the past. He was meant to hold his head high and know he belonged.
I might look like a swan and quack like a swan and have everyone around me fooled, but in the back of my mind I’m always waiting for the other birds to realise it’s all an illusion and then attack me, stripping my feathers with their beaks.
The other thing no-one ever tells you about swans is that they don’t really glide. That effortless elegance they seem to have going as they drift over the lake? It’s all a ruse. Below the surface, their legs are kicking like mad. They’re desperately treading water, making sure they don’t go under.
You’ll never know it from their faces — because swans would rather silently drown before they ever let on that staying afloat is anything but easy.
26
ADRIANA
After the fight about the formal table, I know Emily expects me to give in. I always give in — I hate fighting. Plus, in the past if we had a disagreement and didn’t speak to each other for half a day, that was half a day I didn’t speak to anyone at all. Emily has always been my oxygen tank, and I could only do short stints without her.
But this time it’s different. It really bugs me that any time I make a decision that’s different to what old Adriana would have done, she acts like it’s a threat to her. All I want to do is move beyond the person who had panic attacks and couldn’t stand up for herself.
Hanging out with the Tens, sitting at a new table at lunch, and choosing a formal dress that’s miles away from anything I ever wanted before, are all ways to escape the old me. This is my chance to start a new life, but Emily keeps pulling me back towards the old one.
I get that it’s confusing for her. She’s worried I’m leaving her behind. I want her to come with me, but every time I try, she digs in her heels.
I want her to support me.
So when we talk again on Monday, I don’t say I’m going to change tables for her. I know she doesn’t like the Tens, but I didn’t use to either.
For a moment I wonder if she’ll say, Switch or else we’re not going together.
I don’t know what I’d do if I was put in that position.
Sometimes I don’t think I’d survive if Emily broke off our friendship. I guess that’s why I’ve always apologised in the past — because she was my one friend, and if I lost her, I lost everything.
It scares the life out of me to think I had so much invested in one person. You’d think I’d know better than that after losing Mum.
Emily doesn’t give me an ultimatum, but her eyes seem to say, I’ve thought it.
Maybe with so many fractures on our surface, she doesn’t want to risk dealing our friendship that blow.
The week before the formal I almost start to feel like life is getting better. A guy who could be Prince Charming’s doppelganger is asking me what colour my formal dress is so he can choose a corsage to match. Dylan is leaving m
e alone. My phone is full of texts or Instagram notifications from the Tens. I’ve found a makeup look that’s perfect with my dress, and I’ve already pulled it off in my practice run.
But, like countless times before, life proves to me that I don’t get to feel unbroken for long.
The Thursday before the formal, I’m sitting in my last class of the day, Geography, when I hear Sophie asking Tess whether they’re picking her and Dylan up from her place in their limo, or whether he’s organised one himself. I know they mean my Dylan, because he and Tess are lab partners in Mr Blacklock’s class. Sometimes I watch them laughing together over the test tubes, him making jokes and her rolling her eyes at him.
Tess has always had a boyfriend, but I guess that’s over and I haven’t heard.
I look at Tess’s blonde curls and dimples, and I hate her.
I hate him.
I scrape my chair back and run out of the room.
I hadn’t considered that Dylan would ask someone else. Him asking me was supposed to mean something, or so he said, and I’ve been counting on the fact that if he couldn’t go with me, he wouldn’t go with anyone.
Since getting my dress, all I’ve been picturing is this one moment when I walk into the formal with Theo, and Dylan is standing there all alone. He sees me and his mouth falls open, and I know that he’s longing to be the one on my arm.
I feel like that look is the antidote to all the poison that’s been circling my heart for more than eighteen months. And now I won’t be able to drink it in. Instead he’ll be feeding Tess cake, or asking her to dance, and her head will be on his shoulder, and that poison will double in strength and I’ll die instead of finally finding a cure.
I run for the bathroom and throw up. I can’t see or hear anything, it’s just streams of vomit. When it stops, I stick my fingers down my throat and try for more. But I can’t get rid of the poison, no matter what I do.
‘So Theo is picking you up at six, right?’ Emily asks as we get ready for the formal at her place on Friday afternoon.
‘Yup.’ We’ve been over this a million times, I don’t know why she’s asking me again.
I step closer to the mirror to make sure the part in my hair is perfect. I’m wearing my hair dead straight, with a part on the far right side so the hair cascades over to my left, bombshell-style. I want everything to be perfect.
‘Okay, cool,’ Emily says. ‘Mum will be here straight after she knocks off work, and even if she’s a little late we still have half an hour up our sleeves for photos. Your dad definitely knows it’s six?’
I nod, not taking my eyes off my reflection. Part of me wishes I was at Lana’s because then I could skip the whole parent-smiling-proudly photo moment. I don’t want Dad here. I want Mum.
‘You and Theo are going to look incredible in your pictures.’ Emily grabs both of my hands. ‘Ade, you know I’m crazy happy for you, right?’
Her hair is in twisty rollers and she looks like a porcupine with multi-coloured spikes sticking out from her head. It makes me want to giggle, but it also makes me feel sad. Even though we’ve been dancing to our playlist and laughing, I’ve been playing pretend the whole afternoon.
This is me and my best friend getting ready for the best night of high school, the night we’ve been waiting for since starting Year Seven.
‘You have the best date out of anyone.’ She squeezes my hands hard.
I want to feel as excited as she is. I want to believe that Theo was always the boy I wanted to take tonight, and that when he knocks on the front door and I open it, there’s no-one else I’d rather see.
‘I’ll go get us some Coke,’ Emily says. ‘I went to town on the chips — you’d better have the rest.’
She hands me the bag and heads out of the bathroom. I put the chips on the bench. I can’t eat.
I need to start my makeup. I have the tutorial on the iPad in front of me, just in case I forget something, but I’ve practised six times so I should know the steps by heart.
I’m fine with the base and the bronzer and blush, even though I’m so jittery, but when I put on my eyeliner, my fingers are shaking so badly the flick becomes a messy line that weaves up and down my lashline. I need to look perfect, and my eyeliner isn’t. I try and fix it and it becomes more of a smeared mess.
I want to throw the eyeliner pen across the room. Why can’t I hold it together when I most need to? I’m so freaking weak.
I take a deep breath. Pull yourself together. Just because Dylan’s taking her doesn’t mean you can’t make him regret that.
I slowly apply my lip gloss and think of his face when I said no to him about the formal. You know he cares. You can make him care again. I just need to look hot enough.
I look at my eyes, which are now perfectly defined, and my cheekbones, which are the same, and my lips, which are full and glossy and the exact same red as my dress. I look at my reflection, and for the first time ever I think: I am beautiful. I am what everyone wants to be.
Arrogant much? But faux arrogance is the only thing that’s going to get me through this night.
‘I brought you some Coke,’ Em says, but the glass slips in her hand as she looks at me. ‘Sorry,’ she says, sounding relieved as I take the glass and set it on the bathroom bench. ‘You look so phenomenal it’s unnerving.’
‘Unnervingly good?’
‘Seriously unnervingly good.’ She giggles and high-fives me. ‘I should start my makeup, right? I’m seriously stressed about it.’
She’s nervous too, which makes me feel human instead of a huge freak. Suddenly I feel closer to her than I have in weeks. I hug her, then give her a push towards the mirror.
While she does her makeup, I take a bunch of selfies and send Chanel one, asking, Be honest?
You look beyond, Chanel texts back. Ally says she hates you. Lana says she’s thinking of kicking you off the table. I told her you own that table, and she can bow down to the queen ;-)
I post the selfie, and imagine Dylan seeing it. I don’t go to his page. If I see a shot of him and his date now, I won’t be able to step foot into the formal. I want to see him give me that look first, especially if he’s standing there with her.
Someone’s talking to me.
‘Do I look okay?’
Emily is standing right in front of me. I realise she’s probably been there for twenty seconds already and I haven’t noticed. She looks as insecure as I feel.
‘Perfect. Your eyes, Em, they’re something else.’
She looks at her phone, which is lying on the bed. ‘It’s five-thirty already. Should we get dressed?’
Our gowns are hanging from the curtain rail in my room. I look at the red and white side by side, and take a photo while they’re still perfect.
‘You put yours on while I finish my drink,’ Emily says. ‘I don’t trust myself with a white dress. It’ll be a miracle if it’s still pristine by photo time.’
I grab my heels and put them on first, sitting down on the bed. My fingers struggle with the straps, my nervousness obvious. I step into the dress ever so carefully.
I look at myself in the wardrobe mirror. Is this enough?
‘Holy crap, you look like you’re from another planet,’ Emily says.
‘Dylan’s jaw will drop?’ I ask, turning around to smile at her.
She stares at me. ‘You mean Theo’s jaw, right?’
Oh my god, I said the wrong name.
‘Of course.’ I turn away so she can’t see my face, which is red from the stupid mistake. ‘Tongue slip.’
Emily steps round so she’s looking straight at me. ‘No, it wasn’t. You do mean Dylan, don’t you?’
I turn away from her to grab my clutch, and throw my lipstick in so I’m ready to go when Theo arrives. I don’t want to have this discussion.
‘You’re avoiding me, but I know that’s the truth, Ade.’
Her voice is insistent in my ear. Why does she have to act like she knows everything?
‘So what if
it is?’ I spin around to face her. ‘So what, Emily? He broke my heart. Maybe I want to make him a little sorry.’
‘So you’re not over him then?’
‘Of course I’m over him.’
‘If you were over him, you wouldn’t need to go all-out to make him sorry.’
‘Stop acting like you’re an authority on this stuff. You haven’t had your heart broken. You haven’t had a boyfriend or even a crush, for god’s sake. You don’t get it!’ The last bit comes out as a shout.
Emily looks taken aback. ‘I’m not an authority, but I can see you’re making a bigger mess for yourself.’
‘I told you I can handle things on my own.’ Back off, is what I’m really saying.
‘If you wanted to go to the formal with Dylan, why didn’t you ask him?’ Emily shakes her head. ‘He wanted to go with you, for god’s sake.’
‘He asked me,’ I say, my voice telling her, Stop acting like you know more than me about the situation. ‘I told him no.’
‘Right, so you wanted to go with Dylan, but you said no, and instead said yes to Theo?’ Emily’s voice is shaking.
Why is she angry at me? Can’t she be supportive, help me do what I need to so I can work my way back to feeling semi-okay?
‘So?’ I say.
‘So if you’re taking Theo when you’re still in love with Dylan, that’s not fair to him.’
‘You’re my best friend. You’re meant to be on my side, not Dylan’s.’
‘I’m not talking about Dylan,’ Emily cries. ‘It’s your business if you want to hurt your ex-crush, but it’s not fair to bring Theo into this. He thinks you like him. He’s already worried there’s unfinished business between you and Dylan, and I told him there isn’t because you told me there isn’t.’ Her bottom lip trembles. ‘You are still in love with Dylan, aren’t you?’
‘Why are you getting so upset about this? It’s my mess, I’ll sort it out.’
‘I’m upset because I care about Theo,’ she says fiercely.
Her face has this weird expression. Her features are twisted up like she’s done something wrong in saying what she did, but her eyes are shining super-bright like she owns every word. Suddenly I remember the other times I’ve seen her eyes and mouth do this. The first time was in the bathroom when I asked her about her crush — her mouth was exactly the same as it is now. The second time was when she was sitting across from Theo at my house, and her eyes were just as bright.
My Best Friend Is a Goddess Page 30