by Shelly Crane
And then I was on my bed. I opened my eyes to find a freaking-out version of Ariel. She was yelling and then pushing buttons on her phone. I sat up and she screamed like she'd seen a ghost. Then Mrs. Ruth burst through the door yelling for Pastor. She stopped and stared at us.
"What in…the world," she said harshly.
"Sorry," Ariel was saying and hung the phone up and grimaced. "I…she wouldn't…I thought that she was…she wouldn't wake up!"
"I'm awake," I said and smiled. "What's going on?" I tried to play off.
"I've been trying to get you up for like five minutes!" she yelled. "I shook you, I said your name. You were barely breathing!"
"Sleep breathing," I justified. "It slows down when you sleep."
"I slapped you in the face! I thought you died!"
I felt it then, like it was waiting for an explanation to make an appearance. It stung and I groaned as I grabbed my angry cheek. "What the…Ariel!"
"I thought you were in a coma! I called 911!"
"Well, I'm ok," I reasoned and looked at Mrs. Ruth. "I'm ok."
"Are you sure?" she asked and eyed me.
"Yep." I winced at my cheek and glowered at Ariel. "Except my cheek frigging hurts. Thanks, friend."
"You're welcome!" she huffed. "You were about to get mouth to mouth as well. That would have been awesome to wake up to."
I burst out laughing at the scene she created with her words. She followed me and Mrs. Ruth shook her head. I'm sure there was even an eye roll as she turned away.
Once our laughing stopped, she looked at me closely. "I really thought something was wrong with you."
"Sorry. I'm a sound sleeper."
"Apparently. Sorry I slapped you, but it was in the interest of saving lives."
"Forgiven," I said and tried not to wince more. "You shower first."
"Alrighty."
She bounced away with a spring in her step and shut the door. I heard her humming behind the door as she turned on the water. My door opened and Mrs. Ruth came in with a cold Pepsi Max can in hand. "Here, honey."
"Thanks." I started to pop the top, but she stopped me.
"Put that on your cheek first, then you can drink it."
"Ooh, yeah," I grumbled. "Thanks."
After she was gone, it was then that I realized, as I pressed the cold can to my pounding cheek, that I was fully rested. We were right. Sleep in the reverie was just as good as the real thing. I smiled.
When Ariel got out of the bathroom, she had a towel wrapped around her midsection and one around her head. She looked so…normal, for lack of a better word. Without the dark makeup and the piercing and the shaved head, she looked like everyone else.
"I have a favor," she said and chewed on her thumbnail.
"Sure. What's up?"
"Um…" She went to her book bag and pulled out her wallet. "It might be vain to keep this on me, but the day I got the salon to cut off all of my hair, I took a picture." She handed it to me. She was standing in front of the mirror, the reflection of the person taking the picture staring back at her from the side. Ariel looked like someone who was devastated, but trying to be brave.
And holy heart failure, Batman! She was wearing pink.
Her shirt was a pink tank with a yellow one layered underneath. Her long black hair pulled over her shoulder so you could see its length and impressiveness. I remembered her…I never talked to her before, but I remembered this girl.
I looked back up at Ariel. "I'm sorry that I wasn't your friend before."
She shrugged. "It's cool."
"What do you need from me?"
"I want to…be me again." She looked up at the ceiling, like it was hard to talk about. "Like I said, I only went all anti-social and rebel to piss off my parents. They wanted me to work extra hard at being perfect since I was sick. Don't get me wrong," she shook her head, "they're great. But they thought if they just bought me wigs, dressed me in extra expensive clothes, made me feel so super normal," her voice all high and pitchy when she said it, "that I'd forget I had cancer or something. I wanted to brood a little. I wanted to be pissed off a little and I don't think it was asking too much. So I rebelled. What I want is to…wear pink again." Her eyes looked glossy when she said it.
And I understood. Pink didn't mean pink. Pink meant everything that she felt was taken from her when she got cancer. I nodded and grabbed her hand as I made a beeline for my closet. I opened it and dragged her inside.
"Are we going full on or easing into it?"
"Easing," she said as she looked around.
"I'm thinking…these," I said and pulled a pair of black ballet flats from the rack. "No socks or stockings, Ariel. None."
"Ok," she said and gulped.
"And this," I told her as I grabbed a little silver heart necklace from my jewelry box. "And this!" I said excitedly as I reached for a black scarf that had little bits of color to match our uniforms.
"Ok," she repeated.
"Ok," I agreed. "Now my turn."
"What?"
"I want to be more edgy. I've always been this and I want to be something different."
She smiled in tolerance. "You don't have to do this to make me feel better. I made my own decisions. People always stare at me, now they can stare for another reason." She poked at the scarf. "Me in a freaking scarf."
"No, I want to, really. My parents were kind of like yours, I guess. Always wanting me to be perfect, like that solved all high school problems."
"Oh," she blanched, "Clara, I'm so sorry! Here I've been going on about my parents and yours…at least I still have mine. I'm sorry."
"No, it's ok. I need to talk about them. I miss them. Gah, I miss them so much, but they weren't perfect. It makes it easier for me every single time I say their names."
"This'll be a good start," she told me, gripping the items I gave her. "Thank you."
"Not a problem."
We finished getting ready in comfortable, contemplative silence. We both did our makeup in the bathroom at the same time and she didn't put on a smidge of eyeliner, or the nose ring. I on the other hand, put on a bit too much for my usual self, and no lip-gloss or lipstick. We painted each other's fingernails, mine black of course, and hers a pale pink. I was such a poser, but I hoped she understood what I was offering her. As lame as it was, I was hoping that by my causing attention to myself, she wouldn't get so many stares and could make up her mind about what she really wanted to represent.
I slid on her boots. Ah, they weighed a ton each. My socks were up to my calves! She giggled as she slid on the flats I'd given her. She twirled and joked about feeling ten pounds lighter.
"Ha. Try twenty," I groaned as we lugged down the hall.
Five
She laughed differently now, as if some weight was no longer bearing down on her. I smiled at her. Goth was just dandy, but she needed to be who she was and stop hiding to distract others from what was going on. I wondered if anyone at school even knew that she'd been sick.
I knew that Eli would be there to walk us to school once we finished our breakfast, and wasn't surprised a bit when we came outside and found him standing there leaning against the tree in my front yard. He smiled and then cocked his head to the side as we made our way to him.
"Is it opposite day and I didn't get the memo?"
"Nope," I answered and reached up to kiss him. "We're just trying some different things."
"Well," his eyes took me in, toe to head and back again, "you both look very pretty, and I'm not just saying that."
"Thanks, babe," I said. He looked at me as he grabbed my hand and smiled at my endearment.
"Anytime, love."
I bit my lip.
Ariel starting making gagging noises so we both turned to look at her. "Ugh, don't make me barf on my new shoes before we even get to school," she said and laughed as I almost tripped over her ridiculous boots.
"Whoa," Eli spouted as he grabbed my arm, "careful."
"I can't believe you wor
e these every day, Ariel," I grumbled.
"It takes a learning curve," she replied happily.
As she walked a little ahead of us, Eli leaned over to me. "So, how do you feel this morning?"
"Great. You were right."
He sighed, like he'd been worried about it. "Good. That's good."
We walked, slightly swinging our arms as we crossed the quad at school. I didn't need to go to my locker, so after I waved to Ariel, and gave her a brave smile to encourage her, we went and stood in front of my homeroom. Eli leaned in to me, forcing me to the wall.
"So what's really going on with the getup?" he asked as he eyed my boots once more.
"I just wanted Ariel to feel comfortable. She wanted to try something new…or old, I should say." He frowned, his eyebrow piercing twinkling under the lights of the hall, so I went on. "She hasn't always been like this, but she got sick. Leukemia."
"Oh," he said as if that explained it all. "Well, things like that change people."
"Yeah. So, she wanted to try to be her old self again."
He nodded and said, "And you dressed like this to make her feel more comfortable. I get it." He leaned in and kissed my cheek, speaking his words against my skin. "Wow, that was really sweet of you."
"For a girl who was so self absorbed and concerned about what others thought before, right?" I said begrudged. Eli hadn't said it, but I thought for sure he was thinking it.
"Nope. Just sweet." I sighed and looked around the hall. A few people gave me weird looks or sneers even, but for the most part, no one seemed to care.
"That's the thing about forgiveness…and redemption." His smile said he knew what he was talking about. "What you did before doesn't matter anymore, right?"
He looked at me and waited for me to disagree. If I did, that meant that I thought that all of the things that he'd done - all the things I said didn't matter - that the forgiveness was moot.
"It's not moot," I muttered.
"What?"
I grabbed his face in between my hands. "It's not moot!"
He smiled, while bunching his brow in confusion. "All right. It's not moot."
"You're right. Thank you."
"Ok," he agreed reluctantly and let me pull him to me. I kissed him like the sun would boil us into oblivion as any moment. I kissed him as if this was my final breath. I felt his hands slam into the wall behind us to keep us from falling as I breathed him in deep, and when I pulled away he stood with a stunned and all too familiar needful expression on his face.
I let his face go from between my hands and wanted to smile as I turned for my class, but instead just watched him watch me as I slid into my classroom, leaving him in a stunned stupor in the hall.
I giggled silently all the way to my seat.
~ ~ ~
I met Ariel at her locker before lunch. She was anxious and fidgeting with the buttons of her vest as she stared into her locker. I waved a hand in front of her face and she jumped and squeaked.
"Oh, sorry," she said.
"What's up with you?"
"Nothing," she answered too quickly.
"Nothing, huh?" I muttered and fit the pieces together in my mind. It was right before lunch and Ariel had no classes with Patrick. This was the only time of day she saw him. "I'm calling bullcrap on that one."
She sighed in defeat and said, "It's stupid that I care so much what he thinks." She looked at me. "He barely knows I exist outside of our group."
"That's not true. You're friends. He'll notice this. I guarantee it."
"Ok, come on. I'm starving and it's better to get it over with. Just like a band-aid."
I linked my arm with hers and practically dragged my feet in the massive boots to the cafeteria. I figured Eli would be waiting there for me, but Ariel needed someone right now. And if Patrick pulled the idiot card and made her cry with his lack of noticing, I'd hurt him. Or get Eli to, whichever.
"Ok, big moment," she breathed as we rounded the last corner and then shook her head. "It's not even that big of a change. It's not a big deal."
"You're fine on many levels," I joked. "Smokin'."
She laughed. "Thanks."
Eli was waiting and smiled at us when he saw us coming. "Hey."
"Hey, you," I replied and grinned as I walked passed him.
He chuckled behind us and jogged to catch up. I linked my arm with his, too. "Are we off to see the wizard?"
Ariel and I laughed, catching the attention of the lunchroom who watched us. I was tempted to flip them off, but knew my mother looking down on me would not approve. I pulled Ariel to our table first and set our stuff down. Eli put his hands on my hips from behind to guide me to the lunch line, as was customary, and we began to make our way. But I heard Ariel's groan beside me.
We turned to see Patrick walking in with Sarah. She was trying to stifle a giggle and he was hiding a smile. She winked as she walked away to her table and he came to ours, but not before one last glance. That glance was the final twist in the knife for Ariel.
She started to bolt, but he was blocking the way in between the tables and there was nowhere else to go. He smiled as he came and then slowed his advance. "Whoa. Looky here."
"Shut up," she muttered. I could tell all of the charisma and confidence she had two seconds ago had been sucked out of the room, just like that.
"She's totally hot, right?" I asked him and went to her side, linking my arm through hers. "I can't wait for your hair to grow out."
"You're growing your hair out? Why?" he asked and then looked at me. "And why are you dressed like that?" He seemed almost angry. I was confused. Ariel shied away from him into my side. "Answer me, Ariel," he said softly. "Why are you dressed like that? Clara shouldn't have made you feel like you weren't good enough." He eyed me. "That's was a really crappy thing to do, Hopkins."
"This was my decision," she cut in. "I wanted to be the old me again."
"The old you? There's only ever been you. You never changed. Maybe your clothes did, but you never did."
I realized they'd been friends for a long time then. I wondered if he knew about her being sick.
"I was different," she argued. "I was completely different. I want to be that girl again. The girl who could wear whatever she wanted and it didn't matter. She was pretty and happy and…"
He glared at me once more. "What did you say to her? I know she slept over last night. What did you do?"
"Nothing!" she shrieked at him. "She didn't tell me anything. I can make up my own mind, you know."
He eyed her shoes. "So why did you decide to go all cool table on us then?"
"Ahg! I'm so done." She stomped off and it was my turn to glare at Pat.
"What?" he defended. "I was trying to help her see that she didn't need to wear your stupid shoes to fit in."
"She's not trying to fit in, you idiot," I chastised softy. "She's trying to remember who she was before she got sick."
"Got sick? She got sick at your house last night?"
He didn't know… Yikes. That's a big cat to let out of the bag. I looked away, but still saw his wheels turning.
He cursed. "I knew something was going on. I knew it. She always said it wasn't, but…"
"She's in remission," I offered.
"So the whole…piercings and hair and clothes was to hide her being sick?" I nodded. "And she wants to go back to being normal again because that's really what she was all along and this was just a front," he said, not phrasing it as a question because it no longer was.
I nodded again."Yep."
"But why was she so scared then? She looked like she was about to throw up. That's why I thought you were pushing her into it. If she was really wanting to change, she wouldn't be so upset-"
"Idiot!" I said again and laughed. "You're such a guy."
He took a deep breath and stuck his hands into his pockets. Then it hit him and I saw it take him over. He grimaced and then looked at me in question. I nodded. "Yes, Pat. You're a jackass."
"I
am a jackass." He rubbed his head. "I always wondered. I mean…we both had a crush on each other and went on a couple of dates and then she just stopped…being interested. Oh, crap." He grabbed his head. "That's when she got sick! That's when she cut her hair and missed so much school and I thought she was just over me, like I was a phase." He shook his head. "I thought she wanted to just be friends. Ah, man. I'm such a jackass."