My Stupid Girl (35 page)

“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.

As I lowered her, she was still kissing me.
And, instead of breaking off, her grip around me got tighter, she pressed her
lips even more tightly to mine. I opened my eyes and waited for her to come up
and smile at me, like I was used to her doing, but she didn’t. I felt my face
flush and another rush of adrenaline pulse through me. I squeezed her back,
feeling her body press against mine, her wet hair trapped between us. I started
to close my eyes again. Then the image of Lucy standing on ice just as it gave
way flashed into my head.

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.

“Lucy, where is this coming from, all of a
sudden?” I felt like I was in a bear trap, fighting her advances; the only way
to get out was to either die or chew my own arm off.

“I don’t want anyone else but you, David. I
never will.” She was serious, her intensity was proof.

Now, you would think, as a guy who was in
love with this stunning girl, that I would be freaking out that she finally
agreed to be a normal teenager who does normal teenager things. But I wasn’t
happy about this sudden turn of events. In fact, it scared me. It wasn’t
anything like I had imagined things going.

“No Lucy.” I shook my head and slid around
her again, to pick up her ring. I grabbed her arm and slid the ring back on her
finger, kissing her hand gently when I was done. She looked at it for a second
and then stamped her foot. She wrenched the ring off and threw it on the
ground, her jaw set. Danger, Will Robinson. 

“Why don’t you want me?” She sounded hurt,
which was totally absurd. I tried to reach out for her hand but the look on her
face made me think better of it, so I stayed where I was and folded my hands in
front of me again.

“Luce, of course I do--”

“Good.” She interrupted me, smiled and
walked over to me, but I slid away from her again. She glared at me and I felt
myself getting angrier.

“Oh you’re ready? Lucy is ready, so David
needs to just jump when she says jump? Should I ask you how high, my queen? Are
you going to throw a fit and stomp your feet again if I don’t?” I glared right
back at her. “What about me? Have you stopped to consider if this is something
I’m ready for? And what about your parents? Do I just ignore that I promised
your father I would wait for you?”

Her eyes were getting red. The gleam of
tears was building up in the corners, threatening to spill over. Usually, tears
made me retreat, but this time I just felt even more manipulated.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” she said
defensively.

“Yes you did, Lucy, that’s exactly how you
meant it. You are so used to getting whatever you want, whenever you want it.
And as much as I love you and want to make you happy, I am not your little
puppet.” I spat the last few words out, relieved at how true they sounded.

“What’s wrong with you?” now she looked
confused, which made me even more upset.

“Do you really not get this? I’ll tell you
what’s wrong, Lucy, and I’ll tell you what’s going to happen. You’re acting
like this is your decision to make. Have you ever considered it’s something we
were committing to together or was it always about you? And then, if I go with
this, tomorrow you’re going to hate me and you’re going to put all the blame
off yourself and put it on the fact that ‘I wanted this’ and you didn’t take
your Ritalin. I’m trying to stop that from happening. I’m trying to keep this a
joint effort. And you are making it difficult for me, which is making me really
mad.”

“So you think I don’t know what I want?”
she said, mocking my tone word-for-word.

“No, actually, I don’t think you do,” I
answered honestly.

Her face instantly went from angry and
tearful to blank. It was the freakiest change in the whole freaky evening. She
stared at me for a moment, totally still, then spoke in a low voice.

“You should feel lucky someone wants you,
David.”

She turned around, picked up her little
ring and threw it at me.

I went numb; I felt hurt and angry. I had
this weird feeling that my hearing was off and everything was a little out of
focus, like I was unexpectedly looking at all this from the end of a long
tunnel. I had caught the ring when she threw it at me. Was she still inviting
me? Was she making fun of me? I could feel my temper rising from my bones, my
whole body getting tense. I clenched my fist as I walked towards her.

Her eyes widened when she saw me and she
started backing away. As she bumped against the wall behind her my fist came down
next to her face, my knuckles screaming in protest as they dented the perfectly
painted surface. Little bits of paint and the underlying sheetrock flew away
from my hand, some hitting the side of her face before they fell. She looked at
me and then at my fist, out of the corner of her eyes. They started to well up
again, but I didn’t care. My life had been an emotional roller coaster from the
moment I had decided to go after her in the lake. I had changed so much and I
thought it was for the better, it turns out I was just her little puppet. Now
it was me speaking through clenched teeth.

“You’re just a stupid little girl, Lucy. I
should have let you drown.” She gasped, like I had knocked the wind out of her.
And once the words came out I almost wished I could take them back but my anger
kept me going. I wanted to finish saying what I had to say. “I knew this God
thing wasn’t real to you. You need to figure out who you are before you try to
change everyone around you.”

“Get out,” she whispered, trembling, still
pinned under my body.

That was the first time I realized I was
shaking with anger. I loosened my stance quickly and backed up, my hands in the
air so she wouldn’t be as afraid.