It's My Life

by Stacie Ramey

  “Ha! I did forget. Carry on.”

  The second she’s out of the room I turn back to Ben. “So help me with my textual relationship.”

  Ben drinks some of the Coke that Mom only buys for him. We aren’t allowed soda normally. Dr. Brown’s for holidays, but nothing else. But anything for Ben.

  “Welp…” Ben waves me along, gesturing with a celery stalk filled with peanut butter and raisins on top. Also one of Ben’s faves that Mom makes just for him. God knows I can’t chew those. “It feels like you’re going to have to come clean at the dance.”

  My phone starts buzzing again.

  Ben nods toward it. “Prince Charming?”

  “I’m assuming.”

  “So let me get this straight, the boy is begging you to do God knows what and now you don’t even want to hear from him anymore?”

  “No. Of course I do, but I’ve got this unmasking-myself problem.”

  Ben puts a hand on my arm. “We’ll figure it out.”

  I stare at Julian’s texts. “So…how do I do it? How do I unmask myself?”

  Ben grabs the remote from me and toggles until he gets to A Cinderella Story. “Relax, Elsa. Like any project, we just need research.”

  I take a bite of popcorn. “If you say so.”

  Ben lays his hand on my knee. “I say so.”

  We both sit back and watch the movie. No more texts from Julian. He must have figured out I was busy. Busy planning for how to deal with this next part. Mom comes in a couple of times to bring us more stuff to eat and drink, but really I think she just likes to see Ben and me hanging out.

  Eventually, Ben says, “You know what I’m thinking? Maybe we watch Cyrano.”

  I make a face. Hate that movie. “We’re that desperate?”

  Ben grabs some Doritos. “We may be.”

  “But you’ll figure it out?”

  “Of course.”

  I stare at my cell.

  Where are you, Elsa?

  You don’t want to meet me?

  I only make it through ten minutes of Cyrano until I insist we switch to Enchanted.

  “So?” I ask Ben. “What have we learned from our research?”

  “Hmmm. I’m stumped. Not one of these will work. But damn, it was a fun afternoon. And I’m so glad I didn’t even start on my AP Psych project, which, by the way, is due Friday.”

  “You said you’d help me.”

  “And help you, I will. The truth is you’ll just have to come clean and hope for the best.”

  “Tell him? Gulp.”

  “Well, don’t just spring it on the boy, but yeah. Tell him. Maybe he already knows. Maybe he suspects, at least.”

  I chew on an organic white cheddar cheese puff. “Maybe.”

  “Don’t look so down, Elsa.”

  I make a face at him for using Julian’s nickname for me. “I’m worried.”

  “Don’t be. I’ve seen this movie before. Tell him at the dance. What could go wrong?” He shrugs.

  I hit him. “You know whenever you say that, a whole lot of stuff goes wrong.”

  “Yeah. But that’s what makes your story so much fun.”

  “I’m glad I can entertain you. Also, I’ll be so gorgeous with this big ol’ cast on.” I smack my leg.

  “You’ll be gorgeous in navy lace.” Ben picks at my hair. “Maybe we should look at a different cut?”

  “What’s wrong with my hair?”

  “Nothing. Just maybe you should do a total makeover, really give the boy something to contemplate?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I do. Go big or go home.” He throws a chip into his mouth and presses play. He puts his arm around me. “Okay. One more movie.”

  * * *

  9:13 P.M.

  So now I’m really worried.

  What about?

  What if you hate me.

  Laughing so hard I’m crying emoji. I know you. You don’t know me. I’m the one who should be worried.

  It still feels scary. I’ve really gotten used to these talks. You know?

  Yeah.

  And we are so great together. Like this.

  So maybe we shouldn’t meet.

  Nah. This story doesn’t end this way.

  So you like stories now?

  What can I say? You’ve got me hooked.

  Tell me, does this story have a twisty ending? I like those.

  No idea. But I have been thinking.

  About?

  You. And me. Separately. And also together.

  Confusing!

  Well, we were talking about what we wanted to be when we grow up and I realized something about myself.

  I like being outdoors. I like the woods. I like plants and trees and animals. Dorky, huh?

  Not dorky.

  So I want to do something outdoors. Park ranger or something. Does that make me sound like I’m five years old?

  I think it’s nice. I could definitely see that.

  I was worried you would think it was stupid.

  So now you’re all solved and I’m still a big blank.

  Really? I thought you’d want to do something with books.

  Whoa. How has that never occurred to me? Like what, though?

  Like a librarian?

  Editor?

  Maybe. Wow.

  Writer?

  Me, a writer? I’ll think about it.

  Since everything is going to change when we meet, let’s enjoy a few more days of this.

  Ok.

  Shark week, yay or no?

  I could do Jaws.

  Now you ask me a question.

  Starbucks or Dunkin.

  Neither.

  My heart.

  But I’d gladly take you.

  Heart emoji.

  Is that for me or the coffee?

  Both. Obviously. Smiley face.

  New Year’s Eve or Thanksgiving?

  Both. If I got to spend them with you.

  Heart emoji.

  What color?

  What color heart emoji?

  Yes. It matters. Red hearts are for love, yellow for friendship. Pink for innocence.

  I didn’t know you were such an expert.

  Well, I am. And you’re stalling. What color?

  Hmmm. I think blue.

  What do blue hearts mean?

  It means we’ll see.

  I’ll take it. Blue heart emoji back at you.

  Twenty-Two

  Mom is bustling around, happier than I’ve seen her in ages. Both of her daughters are going to the Hockey Homecoming. I’m sort of surprised Rena wants to go; it’s not usually her deal. But she slings an arm around me and says, “It’s a family thing.” So.

  Rena’s dressed in a maroon dress that has a sequined tank top and a ton of maroon tulle. Dad’s going to freak when he sees her because it’s pretty short. Mine is a two-piece navy lace dress. The top is embroidered with navy blue flowers and has sheer sleeves. The skirt is navy tulle, not as poofy as Rena’s but just as short. Bad day for Dad, I guess. Rena is wearing heels, but I’m relegated to flats. At least they’re supercute ones.

  I try to pull my skirt down, to cover my scars, but Rena says, “Stop. You look amazing.”

  She maneuvers me into the bathroom. “Turn around, I don’t want you to see until we’re done. I’m thinking loose curls.”

  “Sounds perfect.”

  “You look so happy, Jenna. Like maybe you’ve got a secret or something?”

  I’m just to tell her about Julian; it’s really time she knows. But then Mom comes in and crosses her arms in front of her. She leans against the bathroom door. Smiles. This moment is just about perfect, so I don’t mess with it.

  Rena start
s applying my makeup.

  I fidget. “Can’t I just see what…”

  “Nope,” she says. “I want to do a big reveal.”

  I set my cell to silent so Rena won’t get suspicious about all the incoming messages. Part of me wants to tell her about Julian. Most of me thinks I should, especially since she’ll be there when…if…I actually admit to Julian what’s been going on.

  “Sharon?” Dad calls from the other room.

  Mom slides out of the room.

  Rena moves my head to the position she needs it to be in to work her magic. “You know this dance is sort of reverse, right?”

  “What?”

  “The girls ask the guys to dance.”

  I know that, of course. So yeah, it’s one of the things that is worrying me. But it also gives me a chance to talk to Julian. Alone. If I can figure out how to dance out of my wheelchair.

  “So you going to ask anyone?” I ask her.

  “Maybe.” She smiles a little secret smile and now I wonder what she’s keeping from me. I guess all will be revealed tonight when I see who she dances with.

  “Look at me,” Rena demands.

  I do.

  “Okay. Just a few finishing touches.”

  Then I remember Ben said I should do something drastic with my hair. I grab Rena’s hand. “Hey.”

  “What?”

  “I want bangs.”

  Her eyes light up. “Bangs would be perfect for your face.” She grabs one of her style magazines from a pile that live on the bathroom counter and flips through the pages till she finds one with Ariana Grande in it sporting bangs. She holds it in front of my face. “Like this?”

  “Yes.” Ben’s right, I could use a makeover. I need to be a different Jenna than the girl Julian considers Eric’s little sister. I need to be sophisticated.

  “I think we just have enough time,” Rena says, “I’ll keep them a little long in case we have to have you fixed professionally.”

  Rena bends, and her brown eyes zero in on my hair as she measures and snips. Her wrists jangle with the six bracelets she’s got looped around them. She frames my face with her hands like she’s taking a picture, measuring the ends she’s snipped, and her thumb ring tickles me. Then Rena grabs my makeup bag, her graceful fingers plucking out the lip liner. I stare in the mirror at her nails, painted Sonia Kashuk’s Stop Whining Maroon, as she brushes on the new MAC shade she got me at the mall last weekend just for this event.

  “Awesome,” she says. “It’s so you.”

  “I trust you. One hundred percent.”

  “Okay. Don’t look. I’ve got to get one more thing.” She races to her room and comes running back with a tiara in her hand. “This is going to look amazing.”

  Suddenly it all gets to be too much, and I can’t do it. I put my hands up. “No. People will think I’m—”

  “That you’re beautiful? Because you are.”

  “No. I’m—” Rena toggles the control on my wheelchair until I’m facing the mirror. “Wow.”

  I look…beautiful. The bangs are miraculously perfect and the tiara is glinting in the bathroom light, drawing attention to my face. My makeup is dark but not heavy; my lips are pouty thanks to the liner.

  “Yeah,” Rena agrees, “wow.”

  “But won’t it look like I think I’m Homecoming Queen or something?”

  “Nah. They don’t even do that for this dance. It’s Hockey Homecoming. Everything’s different. I’m going to be wearing one too. Half the girls are.”

  I nod. “My kind of dance.”

  Rena smiles. “Mine, too.”

  Mom comes into the bathroom, sees my hair lying on the floor. Then she sees us and her face changes.

  “Don’t get all emotional, Mom,” Rena says.

  Mom wipes her eyes, then points to my hair on the white tile floor. “Who’s going to clean up all of this mess?”

  “Our ladies in waiting, of course,” Rena says.

  “Cinderella,” I add.

  “You two,” Mom says. “Always colluding against me.”

  Colluding may be my favorite word.

  Rena leans down and lets me wrap my arm around her, and she helps me stand on my one uncasted foot.

  “Let me get your crutches,” Mom says.

  Rena harrumphs. “Those so doesn’t go with her outfit. Not the vibe we’re going for.”

  “But…”

  “We are not entertaining buts at this point in the conversation,” Rena continues, as she helps me maneuver toward the living room. It’s not easy going with my huge cast. Mom trails behind us and calls to Dad, “David, make them…”

  But when we are like this, there’s no making us do anything. I realize I can’t make it through the entire night without a wheelchair, but when I get to the living room, I see my small wheelchair is out and there is navy blue tulle and tinsel wrapped around the metal parts. It’s so pretty that I can’t even believe it.

  Ben opens the front door and lets himself in. He’s wearing a navy blue tuxedo and a crisp white shirt. He points to the wheelchair. “You like it?”

  “I love it, guys. Thanks.”

  “No guys. All Rena’s doing.”

  I shoot her a smile. Sister bonds transcend wheelchairs and able bodies and even imagined fairy tales. Sister bonds are weightless.

  Friday, 5:39 P.M.

  Well, this is it.

  Yeah.

  You nervous?

  Yup. You?

  Yup. But you know what? We shouldn’t be.

  Why?

  Because I already know all about you. Everything important.

  Except my identity.

  Except that.

  Do you think this is smart, meeting like this?

  I don’t think I’ll be able to stand it if I don’t meet you. Smart or not. It just feels right.

  Doesn’t it?

  Yeah.

  Twenty-Three

  The gymnasium is completely transformed. Icicle art hangs everywhere, and little white lights blink from small fig trees placed around the room. There are white crystals in bowls, and there’s even a big ice sculpture shaped like a hockey player.

  It’s crowded already and as we maneuver through the throng, I try to be super careful not to roll over everyone’s feet. It’s a little unnerving, but the music in the background is pleasantly distracting. The DJ is at the front of the room, his booth lit up, and the moment feels so big and beautiful that I almost cry. But there’s also this giant knot in my stomach, a big ball of worry, and it makes it hard to breathe. Can I really tell Julian I’m the one texting him?

  “Hey, going to say hello to some people. You good?” Rena checks in.

  “Sure.”

  “You look gorgeous, Jenna,” Rena says. Blows me two-handed kisses as she goes to join her friends.

  Ben watches her walk away. “So…Rena doesn’t know? Interesting.”

  “I’ll probably tell her tonight. After. Whatever happens.”

  “Sure,” Ben says with a smile.

  “What are you all goofy about?”

  He fake-wipes a tear. “My little girl is growing up.”

  I smack his arm.

  “You want a little help with this next part?” Ben asks.

  “Um. I’m not sure how you’ll be able to help.”

  “You sure?” Ben asks, and pats his jacket. He pulls out a bottle of Coke. “How about some liquid courage?”

  “Are you saying that’s not Coke?”

  “I said nothing of the sort. What I’m saying is that it might have a little something extra in it.”

  He passes it to me. My hands are somewhat crampy.

  “Rum?”

  “Yup. Classic combo. You get that buzz and that jolt at the same time.”

  “Yo
u think I should?”

  “So you want to face Julian sober? No prob.”

  I swipe at the bottle, almost knock it to the ground. Ben captures it and, with his hand over my hand, offers me a sip. I cough a little as it burns my throat. It’s not like I’ve never had alcohol. It’s just that I’ve never drank in school. I take two more sips, then release my grip on the bottle and he retracts it.

  “So who are you looking for tonight?” I ask him.

  “Me?” He pulls up a chair from a nearby table. Sits. “I’m just here for fun. And as your chaperone.”

  I give him a look.

  “Eric made me promise.”

  Just as he says that, the door opens and a crowd of hockey players flood in, all in their jerseys because they won the Connecticut Cup. Morgan and Neil each have dates, but the rest are flying solo. Julian doesn’t even make it all the way across the room before Audra Bacon stops him.

  I can tell by her body language—one hand out, leg bent, hopeful smile—that she’s asking Julian to dance. I watch his face. He looks happy, I guess. And why shouldn’t he be? Audra’s got the straightest brown hair with red highlights, and when she moves it swishes behind her, a rippling shimmery bouncy curtain. She’s also got a body that I’d kill for. Literally. And now that body is pressed against Julian’s. My Julian’s.

  A slow song comes on, and I watch as they sort of sway to it. My eyes are filled with beautiful images of Audra and Julian until I’m believing their story way more than I’m believing ours.

  “This was a stupid idea,” I say. Breathe out. Sigh. I reach my hand out to Ben. “More?” He hands me the bottle.

  “No worries.” Ben leans his head against mine. “The boy is just getting started.”

  I take another sip as the song ends, and Julian backs away from Audra. She smiles, but I can tell it’s a disappointed one. He slips his cell out of his pocket as he walks the perimeter of the room. My phone buzzes. I cradle it in my hand, hiding it from the rest of the world.

  You here, Elsa?

  I know I shouldn’t be texting him here, right in the open, but I can’t help it. The relief of having him leave her to try to find me makes me reckless.

  Yes.

  Where?

  I watch as Julian scans the room, careful to slide my phone back into the little purse Rena gave me to use tonight. It keeps buzzing, and I wish I’d turned it off. Julian’s teammate Nate stops Julian’s forward progression. Nate is talking. Julian looks like he’s trying to be interested, but his eyes keep darting to the room, to the kids dancing, the ones not dancing. He takes out his phone. My phone buzzes and I sneak a peek.