“David, you’re coming home with us. We talked to your grandma.” He started laughing as he wiped tears away from his eyes, “she is an ornery one.” I laughed too. I could only imagine what that phone conversation had been like.
Lucy piped up, “She is going to come and get you from our house later.” I nodded, following them through the crowded hallways to the parking lot. The night air was crisp and cold and it made me tired. More than anything, I wanted to go to bed and forget this day ever happened. But I was happy to be spending some time with Lucy. Her home had become a kind of sanctuary for me. I imagined curling up in a warm bed next to my girlfriend and drifting off into sleep with my arms around her. The thought made me so instantly happy that I shook my head and forced myself to think of something else, anything else. We’d both been doing really well with the whole “good” thing, and I wasn’t going to give either of us any more of a reason to regret this evening. I was kind of proud of us, actually, for sticking with it.
“The prom was definitely worse than I thought it was going to be,” I whispered in Lucy’s ear. She groaned, and put her head against my shoulder.
It was two in the morning when we got to Lucy’s house. Every light was on as we pulled into the driveway. As we walked through the huge front door, we heard the news station blaring from TVs in two different rooms. I imagine that Lucy’s parents had been trying to get information from the news but once they got the call from the hospital they went flying out the door, not bothering to even lock it behind them. At any rate, they were worn out. They went to bed almost as soon as we got in, hugging us both before they trudged upstairs.
“I’m going to take a quick shower and I’ll come down and wait for your grandma with you,” Lucy said quickly, running up the stairs before I could tell her to just go to sleep. I felt bad for keeping her up but I did want to spend some time with her. I went into the downstairs bathroom that I was so fond of and looked, for the first time that whole evening, in a mirror. I was a mess. My hair was sticking up in every direction; my face was red with black smudges all over it. The foot-shaped mark on the left side of my face looked a lot better than it felt. But it was sore and I could see a bruise starting to form under my cheek bone.
“Stupid people,” I murmured under my breath. There wasn’t much I could do about it now. I needed to take a shower and just sit under hot water for a year. I looked in the mirror again, surprised to see myself. It was like looking at an old friend I hadn’t really missed. There was a time when I used to look in the mirror and think to myself, ”this is as good as it gets.” Those had actually been good days. Most days I scrutinized the way I looked, going over how every feature needed improvement. I used to recognize my face in mirrors and pictures by its flaws. Those kinds of days were long days that never seemed to end. After meeting Lucy though, I mean really getting to know her, I would go through a whole day without noticing flaws. Most days, I realized now, I hadn’t even looked. I smiled and shook my head.
“What are you smiling at?” Lucy asked, walking into the little bathroom in her blue plaid pajamas and matching tank top. Her hair was soaking wet, but straight, like she had washed it and ran a brush quickly through it. The tank top had wet marks where the ends of her hair dripped onto it.
“That was quick,” I said, turning around to face her.
“I’m the queen of three minute showers,” she said, handing me her toothbrush. We were officially a nerdy couple, sharing a toothbrush. I grinned again as the image of us brushing teeth together in front of a mirror flashed through my head. I wanted matching sweatshirts.
“Thanks.” I opened two bathroom drawers before I saw cinnamon toothpaste sitting at the bottom of one. I picked it up and brushed my teeth, then re-brushed them. I hadn’t realized how dirty they actually were. When I was done, I put the toothpaste back where I found it, carefully rinsed the brush and splashed some water on the sink. I didn’t want Lucy or her mom to have to clean up after me tomorrow.
The whole time I could see, in the mirror, Lucy leaning against the wall, watching me with a little smile tugging at one corner of her mouth.
I finally turned around and leaned against the bathroom counter, grabbing her hips and pulling her towards me, alone for the first time that entire evening. I knew my clothes were still disgustingly grimy from the fire, but I didn’t care.
“Look at you.” She grabbed my face in her hands and looked closely at it.
“You don’t look so hot yourself,” I laughed at her, gently pulling a strand of hair out of her eyes and tucking it behind her ear.
“Well, you do look hot, you always look hot.” She smiled at me then put her hand up to my hair, brushing it straight with her fingernails. It felt amazing. I closed my eyes, and without realizing it at first, pushed my head against the pressure her nails were making, so my head was going back and forth wherever she was touching.
“You’re so handsome,” she whispered. I held my head still and peeked one eye open to look at her.
“Don’t patronize me,” I said, teasing her, but her face stopped smiling. She looked me square in the eyes, with what I knew was her serious face. Her hands stopped moving and I opened both eyes.
“Do you really not know what other people think of you?” She cocked her head slightly to one side and her nose crinkled up a little as she asked. Adorable. Then I realized she was waiting for an answer.
“Other people?” I laughed, “what other people?”
“Like, everyone at our high school. Most of them didn’t even recognize you tonight.” She lifted her hands up a little when she told me this, as if she couldn’t believe how clueless I had been for not noticing everyone else. Like I’d been interested in looking at anyone except her.
“Well, I didn’t look like myself tonight.” I tucked another one of her long strands back behind her ear, sneaking a little kiss on her cheekbone as I did. Her face stayed serious.
“That’s my point! You didn’t look like David, you looked like someone else. I don’t mean that in a bad way, but people didn’t recognize you, is all.” Her nose crinkled again but I tried to focus on what she was saying and give her a real reply.
“Honestly, I didn’t realize people would know it was me to begin with, even if I’d looked like me.” I stopped and thought about that sentence. “Did that make sense?”
“Yes, I know what you mean. But David, you have to realize that every single girl in school thinks you’re gorgeous.” She tilted her chin down looking, for just a split second, like a librarian looking over her glasses. That made me laugh.
“Shut up.” I gave her another little kiss, accompanied by a tug to pull her closer. She was so into what she’d been saying that she’d moved away a little while she’d been talking.
“No, you.” Lucy squinted her eyes, and her eyebrows went down into a mini-frown. She was thinking hard about something. “I’ve talked to many girls over the last few years, and you are definitely well known.” Then she scowled, which made me laugh again.
“You look jealous,” I teased. She shrugged her shoulders, dismissing my joke. I kept going. “That can’t be right, Luce. You didn’t even know my name when we first met, remember? You apologized then told me you didn’t know my name.”
“Yeah… I lied,” she looked embarrassed, “I didn’t want you to think I was creepy. You didn’t know my name, so I…” But there I interrupted her.
“I knew your name. You introduced yourself to me, but I already knew it.” She laughed when I said this and shook her head again, breaking a few more of those beautiful hairs loose. As I tucked them behind her ear I asked, “So, what do these so-called ‘other people’ think of me? What’s the verdict?” I readjusted my seat against the counter. This was turning into a real conversation. I didn’t mind, though. None of this was stuff I had realized. For a second I wondered how much else I had missed from focusing so much on my flaws, but let it go. Something to worry about another day.
“Honestly, you were just kn
own as that pretty Goth boy whose makeup looked better than all of ours.” I snorted and she stuck her tongue out at me which, obviously, deserved a kiss. She humored me then kept going, “No one believed me when I told them I was dating you because you were like this unapproachable silent grumpy boy who wouldn’t look at anyone. Plus, you didn’t go to school with us anymore, so they all thought I was making it up.”
“I looked at people!” I said in protest.
“David, did you know your face automatically goes into a scowl when you make eye contact with most people?” She grinned at me.
“It does not…” I thought back. I couldn’t remember ever trying to scowl at anyone. She laughed at the look on my face.
“You’re doing it right now! It’s like whenever you’re uncomfortable you go into grumpy mode.” I made my face go blank. Her eyes met mine again. “David, the reason people don’t approach you isn’t because of your appearance, it’s because you have a wall up. Most other people think you’re really gorgeous.”
“Wow,” I said. The simple thought that people noticed me and thought I was attractive was actually shocking news. Again, I wondered how much I’d missed because I’d been so wrapped up in how I thought things worked. I wasn’t sure how I felt about being a “pretty Goth boy” but it was better than “total loser” by a long shot.
“I can’t believe you didn’t know that. I figured you always had some idea of how much of a catch you were and were just putting up a front.” She smiled at me as I snorted at the word “catch.” She went back to brushing my hair with her nails, which still felt incredible. I closed my eyes again. After a few strokes, she touched my lips where my rings usually were, then my eyebrow.
“I kind of miss the eyebrow one,” she said quietly, her face so close to me I could feel her breath. I opened my eyes again. I wouldn’t have had to work hard at all to get a solid kiss from her. She looked very seriously at me, eyes slightly unfocused, like she was resolving something in her mind, then stuck her chin out like she did when she was determined.
“I want to do something, and I don’t want you to freak out,” she said, reaching behind my back to get a washcloth.
“Nothing about that sentence makes me feel comfortable,” I whispered in her ear. She didn’t answer me, just ran the washcloth under the faucet and wrung it out. Then she reached up and put the warm cloth against the big boot-print on my face, dabbing carefully, making sure not to hurt me. I started to say something but froze when I realized she had moved the washcloth up to my forehead and was wiping off the black soot. Incidentally, my makeup came off with it. I put my hand on her forearm to stop it but she shook me off.
“Don’t,” I said, trying to catch her eyes, which were focused on my forehead. I couldn’t believe what she was trying to do. I tried to stand all the way up and push past her but she was like a brick wall, holding me against the counter. I didn’t want to really push her, so I stood straight, stiffly, as she continued. She lifted her dang washcloth again and put it against my left eye. As she wiped down I could feel my eyelashes pulling against the grain of her towel. She went down to my jawbone and lips, completely cleaning the left side of my face. She made eye contact then, and smiled at me before she rinsed her towel out, getting it wet again. I knew what was coming and I started to panic. Her eyes locked onto the right side of my face.
“Please don’t,” I pleaded with her, holding her hand in mid-air, on its way to my right eye. She pushed against my arm, despite my pleas. I tried to stop her again by putting my forehead against hers, staring at her, hoping my eyes would convince her. I even pushed her arms down, against her sides, to try and stop her. It kind of worked, she had to struggle to try to get free, but couldn’t. We stood there for a moment, foreheads pressed together, staring at each other fiercely, arms locked at her sides.
“You have the prettiest skin,” she said through her gritted teeth.
“It’s all red,” I said stubbornly, frowning at her.
“David, come on.” She shook away from my head and tried again to lift her hands.
“Please, don’t,” I said again, but this time with no real conviction. This had to happen at some point; she had to be able to see me, the real me. I let my arms drop so hers could be freed. She looked straight into my eyes and gave me a beautiful, grateful smile. In reaction my body eased. I leaned my hands against the counter and let her at it. She started at the bottom this time, working her way from chin to forehead.
I felt a mixture of nausea and intrigue as she wiped away the sweat, dirt, soot, and makeup on my jaw line. She brushed over my lips, up past the hollow under my cheekbone to the bottom of my ear. I closed my eyes and realized that, as freaked out as I was, I wanted this. I wanted her to know me like I felt like I knew her. She always put herself out there for everyone to see and here I was, the boy behind a mask of hair, foundation, and eyeliner. I re-opened my eyes when she stopped. She smiled at me again, and with that look was sure she realized how big of a deal this was. She had the kindest eyes I had ever seen.
I trusted her in that moment and relaxed, closing my eyes, submitting myself to the power she had over me. She lifted her hand in slow motion, as if not to startle a child. She pushed my hair behind my ears, leaving my whole face completely exposed. She took her washcloth and gently, much more gently then before, wiped off the remaining makeup covering my right eye and cheekbone. I felt the warm cloth slowly wipe away the grime and makeup. She reached behind me to rinse the cloth one more time. I kept my eyes closed. This time she brushed in small strokes, over my whole face, wiping away small traces of any remaining dirt. When I felt her lay the washcloth down, I opened my eyes, putting my arms back around her.
She just stared for a while, studying my face, her eyes boring into me. I felt paralyzed; I wanted so badly for her to ask me what happened.
Then, without speaking, she reached out one long finger, placed it lightly underneath my right eye, and traced it over the scar that stretched up to my temple. She did it again, this time trailing back to where it started. She touched the outside corner of my right eye. It was permanently red and swollen, resembling Rocky from those boxer movies. A little cut went thru my actual eyeball, leaving the white around the cut a light blue color. In that spot my muddy green eyes were a faint yellow from trauma.
"Did your dad do that?" She whispered matter-of-factly, as if she was just confirming what she had always known was there.
"Yeah,” I croaked. It was all I could manage to say. We stood in silence for a moment, staring at each other.
She grabbed both sides of my face, startling me after the gentleness, and pressed her lips against my forehead. Her hands felt hot where she had just been scrubbing, but her lips were cold against my swollen skin. She moved them down to my eyes. She kissed my right eye and followed my scar with her lips, small kisses peppering the whole line, from temple to cheekbone.
“David, you’re beautiful.” She pulled her lips back and stared, her brilliant blue eyes piercing me. I felt like my body was blistering under her gaze. She was looking at me for the first time, as me. My curtain of hair was gone, my makeup was off; I stood in front of her as me. And instead of feeling self-conscious, like I always imagined I would, I felt free. I felt strong, like my whole body was better because my face was real. I squeezed her, kissing her forehead, brushing her hair back. All of the sudden I was full of adrenaline and energy, like the room had abruptly been electrified.
Lucy got on her tiptoes, like she always did when she instigated a kiss. She touched my lips with a new passion and wrapped her arms completely around me.
It felt incredible to kiss her like this, without my hair and makeup in the way. It was like feeling a familiar action that you have felt before but something was blocking you from fully experiencing it. Like trying to get a new language and finally understanding words without even trying. I lifted her off her feet a little, allowing myself to really kiss her, like I wanted to, had always wanted to. It was awesome.
I pulled away, kissing her nose, her forehead, her eyes, taking deep breaths. I reached for her hand and kissed her purity ring, keeping her fingers in my hand, pressed against my lips, wishing that this exact moment would never end. Suddenly, I felt incredibly tired.
Lucy was breathing hard. Her innocent face was like an inferno, blazing. It was a look I had never seen before. I didn’t know how to react to it. All I knew was I couldn’t respond. She pulled her hand away and slid her ring off, placing it in my hand.
I looked down at the little ring, the one that had put a big brick wall between us, a reminder that she wasn’t mine yet. It was sitting, looking so different in my palm instead of on her finger, mocking me. I dropped the ring on the counter and slid around Lucy, giving myself some space from her and crossing my arms for good measure.
“What are you doing, Lucy?” I demanded, angry.
“I’m done with that; I don’t want that ring anymore.” She looked intensely at me, she started to walk towards me but I put my hands up to stop her.
“So that’s it, I just jump on board because you think you’re ready?”
“I thought this is what you wanted,” she said, resolve still thick in her voice, trying to reach around me. I felt almost disgusted.
My Stupid Girl Page 27