Authors: Ellen Hopkins
Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Social Issues, #Drugs; Alcohol; Substance Abuse, #Self-Esteem & Self-Reliance, #Dating & Sex
to be. She leaves me breathless.
And freed of the weight of regret.
I leave her searching for breath,
too.
Well, then
. She inhales deeply.
I think I’ll need another snack later
.
This should be an interesting night
.
I Have No Clue
What she means. But I guess I’ll
find out. The party is at a little house
near the UNR campus. The narrow
street is lined on both sides with
cars. We have to park several blocks
away, on a patch of dirt by the rail-
road tracks. As I get out of the car,
I catch my right heel, but manage
to save both it and me. “That was
close. Guess I should have worn
the Uggs.” Dani slides an arm
around my waist, and I press tight
against her.
No way
, she says,
no
Uggs for you. You’re too freaking
sexy in those boots. No worries
.
I’ll keep you upright. For now
.
We start down the time-gnawed
sidewalk, linked hip to hip.
In the shadows, we hit a slick
strip of ice, but Dani is true
to her word.
Okay, those are definitely
not great winter boots
. Her grip
around me tightens.
In fact, I would
rate them abysmal. And totally hot
.
They do make me taller than her,
so the top of her head is nose level.
Shampoo, gel, hair dye, or all three,
the soft, fruity scent of her grows
as we walk, and by the time we reach
our destination, I must smell as if I
belong to her. And I like it. How primal.
Just as Dani starts to knock, the door
opens. Laughter spills out, along
with a quite inebriated girl.
Careful
of those Jell-O shots
, she warns.
They might get you all fucked up
.
And she definitely knows from
experience. She stumbles toward
a leafless hedge, hurls something
thick and red. Dani and I go inside.
I Expect Her to Let Go
Of me. She doesn’t, at least not
right away. Her hold is protective,
possessive. The front room is packed
tightly with people. We work our way
through the human mesh, drawing
more than a few direct stares. Can’t be
because we’re together. I’ve never
seen so many same-sex couples before.
Not all in one place, laughing, downing
drinks, making out in plain view.
Other than the girl-girl, boy-boy thing,
it’s like any party I’ve ever been to.
I wish I could say I feel comfortable.
I put my mouth against Dani’s ear.
“What’s everyone looking at?”
At first, I think she can’t hear me.
She doesn’t answer immediately.
Finally we push our way through
the thick knot of people, into a semi-
quiet corner.
They’re looking at you
.
I know quite a few of these people
.
They’ve never seen me with you
before, or with anyone remotely
like you. We are a topic of interest
.
Sure enough, when I glance
around, I see people checking us
out. Evaluating. “What do you mean,
not even remotely like me?”
Dani waves to a girl across the room.
She is tiny. Cute, in a boyish way.
That’s Bianca, my old girlfriend
.
See what I mean? Nothing like you
.
This is all such new ground.
Every spark of self-confidence
flickers. Did we have to run into
her ex? “Were you in love with her?”
I guess I thought so at the time
.
But love is a fragile thing. Easily
broken. And what does it matter
,
anyway? I want to be with you now
.
She Proves It
With a kiss. Awkward at first,
because I rarely kiss with people
watching me. Yet I can’t stop.
I want this. Want her. Don’t care
who knows. I thread myself
into her arms, invite her tongue
into my mouth. Oh God, it all
feels so right, I don’t want to stop.
I want to go further. Set no limits.
Dive deeper. Explore unknown
territory. Find secret places. Climb
steeper cliffs. Higher and higher.
My heart sunbursts in my chest
and my eyes quiver open. Surely
everyone is staring right now.
But I find only one. “Bianca.”
I didn’t mean to say it out loud.
Dani smiles.
Don’t worry. Better
she knows about us. Now how
’bout we find something to drink?
I’m Not Much Of A Drinker
In fact, I don’t drink at all. But
I don’t need to say so. We start
toward the breakfast bar, where
a few people are filling their cups.
Dani asks what I want. I shrug.
“Surprise me.” She reaches for
a tall bottle of rum, manages
to pour some over ice, when
a voice sharp as snipped tin
slices into us from behind.
Well, hello, Dani. I never knew
you had a thing for femmes
.
Dani turns to face Bianca.
Good
to see you, Bee. You know I’m
not much into stereotypes
.
Guess she is femme. Pretty, too
.
Wait. Stereotype? What? “Don’t
talk about me like I’m not here,
okay?” Anger flares, and as I start
to walk away, Bianca mouths,
Fake
.
Kendra
Fake
Is that what you are
if you choose to improve
the basic not perfect you?
Add
a cup size or two.
Puff up your lips.
Reshape your nose.
Subtract
an inch or two from
your belly, butt, and thighs.
Tighten your skin until
what’s left
behind is blotch free.
Unlined. Then, quick,
take a picture or two
of you
before it all falls apart
again and you have
to start over.
Two Days
Until my surgery. Can’t wait. Wish
I had to wait much longer. I’m nervous.
Excited. Looking forward to fixing
something wrong with me. Why couldn’t
I just be born with a perfect nose?
One thing for sure. I can’t sit here all
weekend thinking about Monday.
It being the first day of spring break,
there isn’t a lot going on to distract
me. No lessons. No competitions. Nothing.
And anyway, I’m afraid to do anything
too physical. If I got hurt, I’d have to wait
even longer for the rhinoplasty.
But if I sit here at home, there will be
a battle going on, with me at the center—
fridge (which Mom just filled) vs. mirror.
The Mirror Always Wins
But I’m sick and tired of the war.
Doesn’t help when Mom brings home
ice cream sandwiches (“light” ones,
but still…) and (reduced fat, whatever
that actually means) peanut butter.
Really, truly doesn’t help when Jenna pigs
out with one or both right in front
of me. She does it to be spiteful. Likes
watching my mouth water. Which
pisses me off, so then we fight, too.
Not up for any of that today.
There’s a new
Scary Movie
playing
at the Summit. I want to go. But not
alone. Jenna’s got something going on,
and even if she didn’t, she’d want to
yack down candy and fake butter popcorn.
Aubree’s at her grandparents’,
Shantell has been really weird and distant
lately. And anyway, a movie date
should be with a guy, except not someone
who will put the moves on me.
Someone like… I pick up the phone.
“Sean? I was wondering if you had
plans today. No? Well, I want to see
Scary Movie 666.…”
Silence
on the other end. Then a stupid question.
“Of course I’m not setting you up.
Why would I want to do that? Look, no
strings. I just don’t want to go by
myself. Really? Awesome. There’s a two
fifteen matinee. Do you want to meet
in the lobby, say around two? Exceptional.”
In A Way
I’m surprised he said yes. Maybe
he’s sick of moping around. It hasn’t been
all that long, but Sean is used to
having someone on his arm. Wow. We do
have kind of a lot in common, don’t
we? Chill, Kendra. Remember that you
are good on your own. (Lonely.)
Strong. (When people are looking.) In control.
(Hungry. Even though my stomach
has almost forgotten how it feels to hold
food.) Size two. (Fat. Fat. Fat. Just ask
the mirror. It doesn’t know how to lie.)
Perfect. (Come on. Not surgery, not
losing ten necessary pounds, not even
implants can make me that. “Just about
perfect” will have to be good enough.)
Regardless
I dress to impress, in a very short skirt
plus leggings to keep my thighs thawed,
and a too-tight sweater that defines
my need for bigger boobs. I could maybe
go baggy on top, keep ’em guessing.
But that would make me look fat. Can’t
have that. Better to go for skinny, with
a boost from a well-padded push-up bra.
I grab my jacket, start for the door,
only for Patrick to whistle me to a stop.