Ugly Beautiful Girl

by Tracy Krimmer

  And there it is. My mom can’t be one hundred percent present when she’s here. Her mind will be on Rose the entire time. I’d rather she would have just stayed home if she was going to be like this. It’s one day. I can handle it. I mean, I guess I kind of have to if I want to spend time with my dad.

  My mom scrolls through her phone, no doubt texting Aunt Fiona and checking in on Rose. I thought a smart phone would be good for my parents but my mom is the worst with it. Unless she’s with Rose, she never puts that thing down. I don’t even know what she does on it half the time. Texting I guess. She’s not a game person, and she’s not too well versed on Facebook, even though she’s on there. I can’t think of any other reason she’d be glued to her phone.

  “What should we do first, Vivi?”

  My dad hasn’t called me Vivi in ages. Gosh, before I even graduated high school, I think. I always disliked the nickname, but I never told him that. It was something only he called me, a name reserved only for him.

  “We can walk around and check out the games and food. I’m not sure what I’m in the mood for.”

  We start over by the food, something my dad and I often bond over. We each down a hot dog and a bag of potato chips while my mom nibbles on a bun and drinks her bottled water. By the time we reach the game area, I have two twelve-ounce bottles of Mountain Dew in my system and I’m bloated.

  “Violet, dear, when are you going to give up the soda? And for heaven’s sake, you can eat something healthier than a hot dog. It’s all catching up with you.”

  “Wendy!” My dad shushes her insensitive comments.

  “It’s okay, Dad.” I know I’m not a size six like my mom. She’s been lucky her entire life to have been thin. I hover a fine line between healthy and overweight, and with my five foot four frame, I carry my weight much different from her. My cheeks may be pudgy and my muffin top may spill over depending upon the jeans I’m wearing, but it’s not like I sit on my butt all day either. I’m running from class to class and trying to stay active. This is who I am. Take it or leave it.

  “Violet!” Janna bounces in front of us, an almost replica of her standing next to her. “This is my mom, Mallory. Mom, this is Violet, the girl I’ve been telling you about.”

  I wonder what she’s been saying. I’m always curious what people say when describing me to others. Most times it’s better not to know but I think Janna would be one of the few with actual nice comments.

  “Violet, it’s so nice to meet you. Janna adores you.”

  “She does?” My mom lifts her head from her phone long enough to display a confused look.

  “Janna, these are my parents, Wendy and Steve.”

  Everyone gives short hellos and shakes hands, and then we’re standing in an uncomfortable silence. “So Violet, Janna tells me you write poetry.”

  I catch my breath in my throat. This is a touchy subject I don’t want to get into in the middle of a carnival. It’ll only start an argument with my parents again. “In my spare time. I’m working toward a business degree.”

  “That’s commendable. If you’re that good, though, you should consider English. Maybe you could teach or study abroad.”

  Her words are ones I wish would have come from my parents. Instead, my mom takes over. “She’s chosen a fine major. Teachers don’t make a lot of money and Violet would never survive abroad.”

  I wouldn’t? What are the requirements? I’d love to go to France or Italy. Sure, I don’t speak the language but that doesn’t mean I can’t go. And once I graduate from here, who’s going to stop me? Would I be the same person if I left this country, the ugliness and oddness following me, or would that be the best way for me to start new? Something to consider, I guess.

  “Did you see Jesse?” Janna knows when to redirect the conversation, and I’m thankful for that.

  “No. Is he around?” I haven’t seen him yet today, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to kiss him again. And again. And again.

  “Yeah, I saw him and Olivia with some dude.”

  “Who’s Jesse?” My dad’s voice deepens with concern in the way a dad being protective over his daughter would. He’s never had a reason to protect me before.

  “Oh, no one. It’s a guy Janna went to school with.”

  “I see.” My dad nods his head, and I know he’s trying to read into my body language.

  “Anyway, we have to get moving. Talk to you later, Janna.” I usher my parents away from her, afraid they’ll question if there is something going on between me and Jesse. I don’t know if they would care or not, but either way, I don’t want the third degree about it.

  “Dad, there’s a Ring-A-Bottle game. Wanna try?”

  He takes my hand and leads me to the station. “You bet.” He slaps a dollar bill down, and the person behind the station hands him three rings.

  My dad tosses one and it bounces off a bottle and onto the ground. “That was horrible!” I clap, though, encouraging him to keep going.

  He tries again and misses again. One more shot. He used to always win me prizes on these games. I know he can do it.

  I glance back and my mom is on her phone again. I wonder if she even realizes we’re playing a game. Does she do this when she’s home with Rose, I wonder? My dad brings his hand back and tosses the ring, and—bam—it lands on the center ring.

  “You won!” I jump up and down and give my dad a hug. The gentleman behind the counter hands my dad a stuffed unicorn which he, in turn, gives me. “Here you go, Vivi.”

  “Thanks, Dad. Why don’t you give it to Rose? I’m sad she can’t be here today. This will make her happy.” She can add it to her never-ending collection of stuffed animals.

  He takes it back from me and nods his head. “You always were such a sweet soul.”

  That’s the terminology Lola used, too. I think ‘sweet soul’ is code for nice on the inside, unattractive on the outside. I accept the compliment, though, and loop my arm in his as we continue through the carnival for the next hour. My dad’s tired from all the walking, and my mom doesn’t want to be here at all.

  “Steve, sweetheart, Fiona texted me. Rose threw up and is asking for me.”

  My dad lets out a small sigh, tiny enough for only me to make out. “Okay.” He turns to me. “We better head back. This was fun though. I hope you’re doing well in your courses and that you’re allowing yourself some time for fun.”

  “I am.” I don’t want him to worry. I kept him in the dark when it came to how people treated me in school. It’s better he doesn’t know about Olivia.

  I say goodbye to my parents and think I’m about ready to head back to my dorm room. I’ve had enough with walking around campus and want to lie down. As I take a shortcut through the game area, the pie-in-the-face catches my eye. I missed that when I was with my parents.

  Maybe I have time for one quick throw before I go back to my room. I approach the game and when I see the person behind the clown cut out, I laugh.

  “Jesse? Is that you?”

  He hops out from behind the wild cardboard hair and flashy costume. “Violet! I was going to text you later.” He jogs up to me in what feels like slow motion. I almost can’t believe he’s coming to me. Me.

  “You were?”

  “Of course.” He doesn’t hesitate to plaster a kiss on my lips. That’s what boyfriends do, right? And I’m pretty sure he’s my boyfriend. Never in a million years did I ever think I’d have a one. I sunk the dream of a relationship before I even entered high school. Now, here it is, happening. Though the thought of Olivia catching us still scares the crap out of me. I know he doesn’t care, and I shouldn’t either, but he didn’t have his body plastered online. He didn’t have his clothes ruined by shaving cream.

  “My parents just left. I’m headed back to my room.” Janna said she’d seen him with some guy. I wonder who it was and where he went. And where Olivia is right now. I glance around but don’t see her.

  “Shoot. I was hoping to meet the parents of thi
s beautiful lady.”

  “Stop it.” I swing my hands at him in disbelief. All my life I wanted to be thought of as beautiful, and now that Jesse is calling me that, I have a hard time believing it.

  “I will not, and you’ll start accepting my compliments.”

  “I will? And what if I don’t?”

  He steps closer and puts his arms around me. “Then I’ll have to keep giving them. Over and over.” He kisses my ear as he whispers and sends tingles through my body. “And over again.”

  I want him now, and I almost don’t care who’s around. We’ve only ever kissed, but I want more. I imagine his hands on every inch of my body, rubbing my back, my thighs, pulling me closer to him. I hold back a moan, afraid of embarrassing myself.

  “I want to pie you.”

  He steps back and widens his eyes. “Excuse me?”

  I point to the clown cut out.

  “Ah. Well, ask and you shall receive.” He claps his hands together and rushes back to the cutout. “You have one chance. Think you can do it?”

  “Well, I throw like a girl, so probably.” I wink at him and think twice about ruining his sweet smile with pie. But I’ll do it, anyway.

  I pick up the pie and judge my aim. I’m afraid when I toss the pie I’ll loose a lot of the frosting while it’s in the air. Maybe the key isn’t tossing it straight but doing it on somewhat of an angle. I pull my arm back and let go, the pie flying through the air, and—splat—it smacks right into Jesse’s face.

  “Gotcha!” I cover my mouth with my hands. I wasn’t so sure I was going to make that.

  Jesse steps out of the cutout and approaches me, his face covered in white frosting. It’s in his hair and on his shirt. When he reaches me, his pie-filled face kisses me, and now I’m covered in it.

  “You sure do, Violet, and it looks like I’ve got you, too.”

  “I’ve never been too fond of heights.” Jesse and I sit in a bucket at the top of the ferris wheel. The view is perfection. The entire campus is before us, lit up with the festival lights, and at the height we are, we can only hear the slight breeze and each other’s breath.

  “No? Why did you insist we ride this then?”

  It’s true I urged Jesse to ride the ferris wheel. My heart races being so high in the air with nothing to catch me if I fall. With Jesse next to me, though, my fear subsides. I’m safe. If I were to fall, he’d save me.

  “It’s always been my favorite. I don’t have a phobia about heights. I prefer to stay closer to the ground when I can. But there’s something about being up here, away from all of it, where no one can see me. To those on the ground, they have no idea who’s up here. It could be the most beautiful girl in the world, or me, and they’d never know.”

  “Why do you do that?” He asks me. He takes my hand in his and squeezes it.

  “Do what?”

  “Bring yourself down. You talk about yourself as though you’re invisible, and when you are visible to the world, you’re this less than human being people want to look at. Why do you do that?”

  I shrug, the air stinging my eyes as I hold back tears. I haven’t even answered him and already I want to cry. This is not how I wanted this ride to go. I didn’t want to come up here and cry on his shoulder. I don’t ask for pity or anything. I only speak the truth.

  “Let’s leave it as the past twelve years of my life haven’t been so easy.”

  “No, let’s not leave it at that. Tell me why. You’ve said this before. I want to know what brings you so much pain, Vi. What’s caused you to believe you’re not beautiful?”

  Our carriage moves forward one as the operator lets people off. We swing a little and I grab the side as though we’re about to tip. The silence from before disappears and suddenly all I can hear are the cheers from people playing the carnival games and the laughs of everyone. Deep fried pickles mixed with slightly burned popcorn fill the air. I’m ten years old, standing in the middle of a circle of my classmates at the town fair. They’re all pointing and laughing at me, barking like dogs, mooing like cows, calling me ugly and pounding their legs on the ground as they shout out “Thunder Thighs.” Josh Sadowski started it all, riling the crowd up. It kept going until I burst into tears and ran behind the horse stable.

  I stayed there for almost an hour before my dad found me. I remember how I begged my parents to let me walk around the fair with everyone from school. Everyone else’s parents allowed it, and I wanted to fit in. I wished my dad told me no. Then maybe it wouldn’t have happened, and wouldn’t have spiraled into the train wreck it became over the years.

  I want to blame Josh for it all. He moved after that summer and I never saw him again. It’s not Josh’s fault, though. If there is one thing I’ve learned is that you’re responsible for your own reactions to things. It took all the way through my senior year of high school to realize that. But that doesn’t mean it hurts any less or that its effect has been non-existent.

  “Vi? Are you going to say anything?”

  We rock a bit more as we move forward again. I don’t know what to say, or how to say it. What if he walks away from me? What if he wants to stay with me? I don’t know what’s worse. How long until he realizes the truth about me?

  “Jesse, I like you.”

  “I like you, too. I thought our mutual attraction for each other was obvious.”

  I don’t know what it is about me he likes. It’s certainly not my face. There’s so much about him, besides the physical. He’s kind and funny, and he let me throw a pie in his face. I realize, though, that this won’t work. It’s not only Olivia. God, I wish she were the only obstacle. We come from two different worlds. This isn’t some romantic comedy where the jock falls for the nerd. That’s not real life. It’s just not. The sooner I accept that, the better.

  We jerk forward again, and now we’re the next ones off. I have to make this quick. “I’m not sure this thing between us, whatever it is, should continue.”

  “What? This is coming out of nowhere. What happened in the past, what, ten minutes?”

  “Nothing. Nothing happened.”

  “Then why end this?”

  I think about Olivia and the girls from the bathroom. Even if we shout it to the world, people won’t believe we’re together. And even if we are, eventually he’ll come to his senses and wonder why he is wasting his time on me.

  “Being here, on this ferris wheel, looking down on all the people on campus, it brings back bad memories. And it’s helped put things into perspective.”

  Jesse turns so he’s facing me, his hand holding mine. I should let go, but I don’t want to. I want his touch to linger.

  “You’re not making any sense. This is completely random. You’re the one who wanted to come up here.”

  “I know.” I can’t deal with it. I don’t want to. “I should focus on my first year here. A boyfriend is too distracting.”

  “You think of me as a distraction?”

  No. I don’t, actually. He’s everything I’ve ever needed. He’s been the one I’ve seen in my dreams, the one I thought would never come. He’s here, and I don’t want to wake up. I’m stopping this before it gets too difficult to wake.

  We’re next to get off. The operator opens the safety bar and I stand up. “We’re just too different. I have to go. Maybe I’ll see you around.”

  I linger for a moment, taking a deep breath as I force myself not to take back everything I’ve said. He doesn’t reply, I think in shock over what I’m saying. I offer a wave, turn, and step off the ride, and head back to my dorm.

  Chapter Ten

  Bully

  You may want to hurt me,

  destroy me and devalue me.

  Your goal may be to

  be sure I never am who I want to be.

  I rise above

  and pull the knife out of my back.

  I rise above

  and contain all the empathy you lack.

  I can’t stand by

  and watch anyone in pain
>
  even though I know

  your heart doesn’t work the same.

  ^^^

  If anyone knows tears under a blanket, it’s me, and that’s what’s going on when I enter my dorm room. All I see is a lump in Olivia’s bed, a few strands of her hair laid out against the pillow. I’m quiet when I shut the door and make my way to my bed. I’m on the verge of tears, too, but I force myself to hold it in.

  “You don’t have to tiptoe. I know you’re in here.” She whispers with a stuffy nose. “Were you with my brother at the fair?”

  Her head doesn’t appear from underneath the blanket, and her voice is muffled, but I can make out what she says. She’s accusatory in her tone, and I wonder if this is what she’s broken down in tears over. I clear my throat, prepared to be honest. “Yes, I was. But I broke things off with him.”

  “There shouldn’t have been anything going on in the first place.” She throws the covers off her, her face streaked in mascara, yet, she is still pretty. I hate it. But I can’t bring myself to hate her.

  “Well, either way, it’s done.” What does she want from me? I may have gone against her wishes being with him in the first place, but by ending our relationship I abided by her rules. I can’t win no matter what I do.

  “You must know what’s good for you, then.”

  I ignore her comment, not wanting to touch on the meaning behind it at all. I haven’t proven she ruined all my clothes, and I don’t need to. I’m positive she did it. But I fixed it. I’ll move on. Just as I’ll move on from Jesse.

  “Are you okay?” I step toward her bed. I position myself to sit on the edge until I imagine her shoving me off. She’s my roommate. I should show concern. This is who I am. I can’t help that even when the person who is being the biggest jerk to me is hurting I still want to help her.

  “Why do you care?” She wipes her face with her arm and takes a hold of a sheet and bunches it in her hands.