A Graceful Mess (2 page)

The reality is I feel like a stranger in my own skin. The beauty my parents say radiates off of me isn’t an inward feeling in the slightest. I get that the blonde hair and fair skin is attractive to the human eye, but what’s inside is what matters, and I am as hollow as they come. Order and attention to detail have become my saving grace. The only thing keeping me sane is the picture I see when I close my eyes, “Grace Clearwater, Attorney at Law,” written in script on the cloudy glass of an office door. Standing in the mock court room on campus, acting like I am in charge, is the only time I feel sure of myself, unless my confidante, Maci, is standing next to me.

“There you are, gorgeous.” She glides towards me with her sparkly white teeth on full display, putting even the sun to shame as it beams down and radiates off of her already tanned face.

“Here I am.” I try to mimic her wide grin, but she notices my fakeness immediately.

“Well, Miss Cranky Pants, why the long face?”

If anyone on the planet understands my façade, it’s her. I still don’t know what she sees in me, but we have been inseparable since the beginning of our freshman year in high school. I remember my dad dropping me off, rolling down the window, and yelling “I love you, Gracie.” Way to kick off what was already going to be a promising four years of hell. I turned to see a tall brunette staring at me. She stalked over, bent down, and whispered through glossy lips, “I’m Maci, and I’m your new best friend.” We spent all of high school glued at the hip, and dormed together in college. I am tedious and well-mannered, while she is a wild child, always breaking the rules and pushing her limits. We are like oil and vinegar, but somehow our relationship works. I hate to say it, but more in my favor than hers. Maci is graduating with a Bachelor’s degree in education. I have to say, she too wears a pretty good mask. Her whole party girl image doesn’t do her heart justice. She is one of the most caring and compassionate women I have ever met. I am the blessed one that she took under her wing eight years ago.

“Come on, Gracie, what’s up with the bitchy attitude?”

“Nothing, I’m just ready to get this summer started,” I lie, once again hiding my true feelings, as I hook my arm through the crook of her elbow.

“Fuck yeah, honeybuns, that’s what I wanna hear!”

We stroll to her navy Honda parked in the student section and prepare to make the short drive to our apartment. I am normally one hundred percent myself around Maci, but I’m not good with change, and let’s face it, graduating college counts as a huge change. It’s not fair to bring her down with me today of all days, so I do my best at stowing my feelings and smiling, a real, from-the-heart, genuine smile. As we near the car, she turns her head and winks at me, and suddenly I feel sane again. She knows me, sometimes I think better than I know myself. It is one of the main reasons I adore her. Well, that, and she kind of chose me. But she also pushes me out of my comfort zone even if I stumble on my way. I always appreciate her push in the end, which is why I have allowed her to talk me into going to a new bar downtown for my birthday on opening night, which she’s been going on about the whole way home.

“Shameless.” She shuts the car door after grabbing her oversized suitcase she calls a purse.

“The bar is called ‘Shameless’? Are you kidding me, Maci? You want to ring in my birthday at a place with a name like that?” I ask, annoyed and a little disturbed that the place she wants to celebrate my birthday has such an awful name.

“Yes. And no, I’m not kidding!” her voice screeches as we get onto the elevator before she grabs her phone and tunes everything else out. I assume she is nose-deep in some celebrity gossip column. Who am I to judge? We all have vices. Luckily, I dodged hearing more about the bar. I know she means well and is always trying to strip away the mask of insecurities I wear more than make-up, but clubbing really isn’t my style. What the heck, I guess I can give it a solid effort. I look over and see a gleam of pure joy in her eyes. It makes me smile as I turn the corner and shut the door to my room, blocking out the world.

“A little quiet time, alone, is just what I need to regroup.” Grabbing my Kindle from my nightstand, I climb onto my perfectly made queen bed.

The sound of my bedroom door creaking on its hinges alerts my eyes to look towards its frame. I watch as it swings open allowing a stream of light from the hallway to brighten the darkness, interrupting my session with my book boyfriend of the week. My eyes wander from the device in my hand back up to the door as I notice a shadow tiptoeing to the corner of my bed.

“Yes?” I question the unannounced visitor.

“Oh damn, am I interrupting your porn session again?” Sensing her sarcasm I give Maci an evil look as she playfully jerks my Kindle from my hands.

One of my darkest secrets is my addiction to raunchy romance novels. Way back when, before e-readers, I would stash books from our public library under my bed in a small shoe box. One day Maci was over trying to spruce up my wardrobe when she noticed the box. In hindsight, I should have hidden it more carefully, but leave it to her to have found it. She teased me for weeks saying, “My coy, little bestie is a secret skank!” She never really judged me though. Tormented me, yes, but it was all innocent. She merely accepted me for me, which is another reason why I adore her. Don’t get me wrong, there were plenty of times she held my secret over my head, especially during our first few years on campus. Being the bombshell she is, she got invited to almost every elite party, and of course she always had me tag along with her. Parties weren’t really my scene, but she would do her best to make me feel welcome while joking and whispering in my ear, “He looks like he could be Channing Tatum’s brother.”

Finding a few books in my parents’ room, and blushing from embarrassment that my mom was reading them, left me horrified. In retrospect, it is one of the only things we have had in common. To say I am a misfit in my family is putting it mildly. My father, Joseph, and my mother, Karen, are the total opposite of me. They’re kindred spirits, and my two younger brothers are just as rambunctious. I, on the other hand, am meticulous and like things in order at all times. Which is why it was such a shock to picture my mom buried in a romance novel. Thank goodness I never actually caught her, rosy-cheeked and gushing all sorts of lust while reading one. The thought alone makes me cringe.

“Oh, come on, you’ve read this series more than once. Get up, brush your beautiful blonde locks, and let’s go out. I’m bored and we should be celebrating the last day of classes, not sitting in a dungeon reading sappy love stories about chains and whips!” Maci whines while fidgeting on the edge of my bed.

“All right, all right, and what exactly did you have in mind?”

“Well, Blondie, I ran into this sexy guy at the tattoo shop. His name is Spencer…Spencer Ramsey…”

“Tattoo shop?” I cut her off mid-sentence as my nose crinkles from her statement. “Why…? Oh God, do I even want to know?”

“Come on, you’re not that naïve, are you, babe? I was there getting my bellybutton pierced!” Squealing as she stands up, she exposes the silver jewel on her flat stomach. I squint in the dark trying to examine the shiny piece of metal dangling from her belly button.

“Oh. My. God! I can’t believe you had the guts to do that and I didn’t even know. How long have you had that?”

“Umm, about a week.” She shrugs her shoulders nonchalantly, like getting a piercing is no big deal.

“Well, are there any other secrets you’ve been keeping from me?” My voice sounds madder than I actually am. I have never kept anything of importance about my life from her. Granted I’ve never gotten a piercing either. Heck, she even knows about my deepest darkest fantasies, and even about
Brody
. Simply thinking his name sends chills down my spine. I regain my composure as I get up out of bed and straighten the creases my body left while sitting there.

“Don’t get all insecure on me, Gracie.” Reaching to grab my hand, she interrupts me fluffing my pillow.

“I was just leaving the tanning bed, and the flashing neon lights grabbed my attention and drew me in. The man standing behind the counter just kept me there longer than expected.” I eye her warily, still unsure why this is the first I have heard of her little escapade.

“So let me get this straight: you left the tanning salon and stopped by the tattoo studio, or whatever you call it, and then, bam, you came home with a piercing?”

“That sounds about right.” The simplicity of her answer leaves me wondering why she is being so vague.

“And you used to call
me
a skank! You little tattoo whore.” I smack her on her rear, and she wiggles it beneath my hand.

“Did my little innocent Gracie just use the word ‘whore’? Now, we know demeaning words like that shouldn’t come out of a future lawyer’s pretty little mouth!”

“And we know an elementary school teacher shouldn’t be sporting a bellybutton ring either!”

We both burst out laughing, ignoring one another’s meaningless insults.

“Get your cute, little ass out of that bathroom so I can doll you up!”

I decided it’s best not to fight her tonight. After all, she’s right: graduating college is something to celebrate, so it didn’t take much convincing. As always, she is my personal stylist and tonight is no exception. Personally, I like my attire to stay on the simple side. Usually my outfits consist of neutral colors like beige or a simple floral. But whenever she has the chance, she uses it as an excuse to have free rein on my wardrobe. When I open the door, I almost run face first into her as she stands in the doorway holding up a bright teal cocktail dress. My eyes drift over the piece of cloth she claims is a dress, then dart to her face in one swift motion.

“Oh, no! No, no! Maci you have honestly outdone yourself this time.” Pushing her and the dress out of the doorframe, I slide by her.

“Come on, it isn’t that skimpy, and hell, you just spent an hour shaving your gorgeous legs. Let’s show those puppies off!”

“Puppies? Are you serious right now?” I huff, feeling slightly annoyed and confused as to why she would refer to my legs as puppies.

“Grace, look at yourself.” Jerking the sage towel out of my hands, she exposes my naked body.

“Holy cow, it’s freezing. You pervert!” Turning my chest away from her staring eyes, I use my hands to cover up my lady parts. Just as I stoop down to pick up the towel that is lying in a crumpled mess on the floor, she kicks it out of my reach.

“Was that necessary?” I snap, now angered by her shenanigans.

“Grace, quit fighting me. You know I always win.” She smirks while holding one hand on her hip, bracing her body weight on the foot that is holding my towel hostage. She wins, as usual, and I am left standing in my birthday suit in front of her. She has no modesty, and apparently thinks I shouldn’t either.

“Okay, you win. I’ll wear the slutty dress if you give me back my towel!” I let out a puff of air knowing once again I am bargaining with the devil who has taken the form of a brunette bombshell.

“I am glad we came to that conclusion, because trust me, this dress was built for your body, honey. All the guys are going to be drooling over you tonight. I might even be outshone.” She winks as she bends to pick up my towel and tosses it in the air in my direction. After I dry off I apply a small amount of coconut-scented lotion all over my body. As my hands glide across my torso my fingers instantly find the small two-inch scar on my waist. The thought of having a daily reminder of
him
when I look in the mirror makes me sick. I have used every kind of cream they sell to try and get it to fade, but nothing ever works. It’s there, sticking out like a sore thumb, a reminder of that night.

After the incident, I didn’t talk much. I kind of shut down really and wasn’t excited about attending prom in the slightest. Of course Maci was behind that scheme as well. I’d never stood naked in a mirror before, not even at home behind closed doors when I was alone in the bathroom, but I remember the day like it was yesterday. Maci had talked me into going. She knew what happened, but she convinced me that I needed to go, and try and put the past behind me. Several guys had asked her as their date, but she bluntly turned them all down, claiming I was her date for the night. I am sure the guys got a little excited thinking we were a pair of lesbians or something, but they were sadly mistaken. She and her mom had dragged me down to a small dress boutique, and had me in every color gown imaginable. I was in a white cotton bra and white and pink underwear when Maci barged in with several dresses. She had never seen me undressed before. I wouldn’t even go swimming in the summers, because I knew I would be so exposed. Her jaw dropped, along with the dresses she came in carrying.