Chapter 2 #7
I stared at the posters on the wall, so full of strange, inexplicable emotions that I felt like crying.
Mom had an explanation for this, too. You know, honey, girls are sensitive. To this day, even little things can make me cry. But that’s fine. When we cry, our soul is cleansed and becomes bright again.
I couldn’t believe we only had two more weeks before the next school year started.
Daisy’s family made the most of the last day of summer: they rented a camper van and drove to Silver Lake, near Los Angeles, to camp. I was sad about her leaving, but she’d promised to bring me a souvenir I’d never forget.
Fall was knocking on the door, and my old clothes were starting to feel too small.
Whenever I got bored, I reorganized my wardrobe and wrote lists of what I’d need.
I also spent time lying in bed, reading stupid teenage girl magazines—going through gossip about young, talented stars, filling out crosswords, and answering the quizzes on the last page that claimed to tell me which boys were the best match for me.
They were ridiculous. Every tabloid contradicted the previous one about who The One should be, as if my personality had changed in half an hour. Smiling, I tossed them into a heap.
I was taping posters I’d just taken out of the magazines onto the remaining bare spots on my walls when someone knocked on my door.
“Come on in!” I shouted. I was tiptoeing along the narrow headboard of my bed, trying to put up my newest find.
“Aren’t you afraid you’ll fall?” Dad asked playfully.
“I’ll get up if I do,” I answered, my heart in my throat as adrenaline surged through me. My tongue stuck out and moved around as I struggled to keep my balance.
“You always do, honey.”
When I finally managed to tape the thin, glossy paper into place without damaging it, I turned to Dad with a victorious smile. He looked at me with love in his eyes and pride on his face.
I jumped down onto the middle of the bed, making my plush toys bounce, then straightened my legs and landed on my butt.
“I want to talk to you, Grace,” he said in a grave voice.
“This sounds serious,” I replied, pulling a pillow into my lap.
“Because it is.”
His face was a mask of discomfort, making my heart twist into a knot and crawl up my throat. I desperately hoped my parents didn’t know about Jamie and Daisy’s one night stand—the evidence of which I’d helped them get rid of.
Dad rubbed his tired eyes behind his thick-rimmed glasses, then sank his fists into the pockets of his light beige linen pants, nervously kicking the rug with the tips of his shoes.
He was wearing a short-sleeved white shirt tucked into his pants, with a brown belt that matched his loafers.
My parents’ sense of style was stuck in the ’80s.
We got our hair color from Dad and our eye color from Mom. Both of them were pale—they worked indoors. The slight slouch in their posture hinted at the long hours they spent sitting. They both lived with constant pain in their tight shoulders and necks, and arthritis in their stiff fingers.
Dad was a renowned IT specialist at his workplace, and he was really good at what he did. A conservative, hopelessly romantic computer guy… No wonder Mom had fallen for him right away.
“This is pretty hard for me, too.”
“Just get on with it, Dad,” I sighed. My heart was pounding as I fidgeted anxiously with my fingers, waiting for the catastrophe—for the end of the world to crash down on me.
“I want to talk to you about sex,” he blurted out finally, huge beads of sweat running down his face, which had become chalk-white.
Nikky was leaning against the door frame, listening to Dad’s hesitant words and gloating as he watched my face burn like hot charcoal.
She kept popping the pink bubble gum she was chewing, then pulled out the disgusting wad that smelled like cotton candy and twisted it around her index finger. Dad slammed the door in her face.
“I don’t care about boys, Dad,” I said—which was… untrue.
But when he told me Billy Ray was standing on our porch, I jumped up, stepped in front of the vanity, and scanned my flower-patterned dress in the mirror.
“You really don’t care about boys, do you?” Dad asked, a smile playing on his lips.
“Not… like that. We don’t need to talk about sex,” I said, then bit my lip. I felt we both wanted to flee the room.
“Go, before I change my mind,” he said, nodding toward the door. He didn’t have to tell me twice.
I rubbed my sweaty palms against my dress and ran downstairs. I stopped in front of the front door, mussed my hair a little, slowed my breathing, and opened it to Billy.
We spent hours in our backyard talking and swinging on the garden swing. He apologized for not telling me he’d have to go to football camp for the summer—he’d been unsure where our relationship stood.
“Are we dating or not?” he asked timidly. “You’re the first girl I’ve ever gone on a date with. I don’t know what your rules are.”
“Our rules?”
“My brother told me girls score everything about boys and plan out everything in a relationship. He listed a bunch of magazines you like to read, like CosmoGirl and Teen Vogue… He said they’ve got, like, all this nonsense about relationships covered.
Like, you score us and fill out quizzes to see who the perfect boyfriend is,” he said, laughing. “That’s what you guys do, isn’t it?”
I couldn’t hold in my laughter—it bubbled up inside me like cola from a bottle after our chemistry teacher dropped seven Mentos into it.
“Don’t be mad at me, but I filled out like ten of them an hour ago.”
Billy laughed with me. “So my brother wasn’t bullshitting me.”
“Nope,” I laughed, shaking my head.
“And what did they say about when the first kiss should happen?”
Hearing the words first kiss made me freeze. Which first kiss? Ours—or the first kiss ever, in general?
“Hmm, yeah… I’ve read about it,” I stammered, knowing full well that no relationship is ever written out in any magazine or book.
Billy slipped his palm over my hand. My body burned. His face moved alarmingly close to mine. After a moment of uncertainty, I decided to give him the green light. I leaned in and let him kiss me.
His soft lips tasted like chewing gum. His tongue flickered. My mouth filled with saliva—at first it grossed me out, but by the end I managed to get the situation under control.
Billy wasn’t as confident as Chase—still, warmth spread through my body. Under the branches of the old willow, the illusion of an idyllic first love spread its wings.
When the kiss ended, we broke into silly smiles.
“Wow,” Billy said, breaking the silence.
That was similar to what I’d felt at my first kiss. Which hadn’t been this one…
Shame burned through me, because while we’d been kissing, my mind had been filled with the memory of how Chase’s tongue had felt.
“Do you wanna come watch my practice tomorrow? I’d be really happy. Of course, only if your parents say yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I wanna show off in front of the guys,” he said, shrugging playfully.
I punched his shoulder with a bit of sting, but his smile seeped into my stomach—and then even lower. Now I understood why Dad had wanted to talk to me. I was fifteen, starting to grow into a woman. And while my body showed it, I was changing on the inside, too.
Billy was honest, and made me smile, so I’d definitely wanted to check out his practice. Even though I hated football.
We talked until it got dark. His words sometimes ventured into compliment territory, making me blush. And naturally, I couldn’t forget Mom and Dad who kept watching us from behind the living room’s window.
Before dinner, he asked me out to his practice, then kissed me on the lips and left.
I didn’t understand why love was supposed to take away one’s appetite—maybe all the butterflies in your stomach filled it up.
That evening, I just kept pushing my lasagna around my plate, playing with it like a child.
I drifted deep into the illusion of our future, daydreaming as I watched Mom and Dad.
This was the kind of life I wanted for myself, too.
The next morning, I woke up at 6:00 a.m., at the same time Mom did. While she was getting ready for work, I dropped subtle hints about how I had nothing to do my makeup with, and how happy I’d be if she lent me some.
“Go ahead, they’re all in my room. Just make sure you put everything back the way it was when you’re done,” she said, smiling at me gently.
“But if you don’t mind me saying, I don’t think you need any of it yet.
Your face is as soft and clean as a baby’s.
And your eyes are clear blue, like an ice cave. ”
“You’re exaggerating, Mom.”
“All three of you are gorgeous.”
Then she cast a glance at Nikky’s door, and her smile faded.
“We’re going to get her back.” I gently wrapped my fingers around her warm, soft hand.
She blinked to get rid of the glistening tears in the corners of her eyes.
“And what are you wearing today?”
“I picked a short white overall with lots of lace. It has thin straps, but they’ll cover my bra straps just fine.”
“Perfect choice. It’ll highlight your childlike innocence and angelic beauty!”
After Mom and Dad left, I closed the door behind me and stood there for a long time, staring at the makeup kit—and then at my face. Finally, I decided not to put anything on my face, only apply a little mascara. The girl looking back at me was me—but at the same time, someone else, too.
The minimal makeup I had on highlighted my eyes. In the mirror, I saw an older, more experienced version of myself. And it scared me.
I rode my bike to get to my date, and locked it to the rack in front of the school. I looked at the red brick building.
The hot summer had left its mark: some of the hedges next to the entrance were yellow and the bright green lawn was burnt out here and there. The huge, winged door of the school was left open so that the draft would cool the building down.
August is the hottest month. And I felt that that day was the hottest day in August.