Chapter Eleven
Reflection
A young girl looks at her reflection in the mirror,
seeing her not so perfect self,
seeing a heart broken too many times,
crying for help.
She sees the gray in her eyes,
no one else seems to observe.
She sees a person
she loves,
hates,
needs to be.
Smiling is hard—happy she is often not.
Wanting to love,
needing to be loved.
She cries,
tears constantly falling.
She hears herself yelling
unrepeatable words
expecting forgiveness.
No one but her knows
she can be gentle,
caring, a loving girl.
No one else sees it
REALLY.
Nobody cares, either.
And nobody wants to look into
the other side of the mirror
and see this happy girl
who is stuck between the glass.
Maybe one day she’ll find an escape
and maybe she’ll be able
to always smile,
and always laugh,
and never shed a tear.
She’ll be able to look in the mirror and say,
“I know who I am—
I’m glad I’m me.”
^^^
We load onto the bus one person at a time. I’ve only ever been on a school bus so when I step into a dark scene with psychedelic colors splashed against the walls in the form of lights I’m surprised. The leather seats wrap around the back of the bus in a curve with a few straight seats in the front. There are already about six people on board, and I recognize none of them.
Except one.
“What is Jesse doing here?” I whisper to Janna as we sit down. I sit in the front, far away from him and the winding section. If I sit there, I’ll have a perfect view of him no matter where I sit. “I thought you said he wasn’t invited.”
“I didn’t invite him.”
“I did,” Paul interjects as he slides into the seat behind us. “I like him. I thought you did, too.”
Janna slaps herself on the head. “I forgot to tell you. Violet broke up with him.”
“Oh. Well, that would have been nice to know.”
“It’s fine.” I shrug it off as though it’s no big deal but inside my nerves are doing somersaults. “There are plenty of people here. I don’t even have to talk to him.”
“Really, though, had I known I wouldn’t have invited him.” Paul’s eyes are honest and asking for forgiveness.
“Thanks. I appreciate it.” And I do. These things happen. And it’s not as though I’d dated Jesse for months or anything. We lasted maybe a month. That’s not anything to be so hung up on I can’t handle an evening with him within my vicinity.
Everyone settles in on the bus, and I avoid eye contact with Jesse the entire time everyone is getting situated. When I steal glances at him, I catch him in different stages of smiling, laughing, and even being serious. I want to go to him, to sit beside him and lay my head on his shoulder. I want to relive that night on the ferris wheel and pretend I never broke things off with him. The reality is that I did, and I can’t take any of it back. I slouch down in my seat as we begin the drive down to Chicago.
An hour into the drive passes before Janna takes her first drink. I’m a little surprised she lasted this long, but I’m relieved she’s pacing herself. Before I know it, she’s scooted into the seat with Paul, and they’re cuddled up together. I stare out the window and try to tune out the crowd who are now singing as loud as humanely possible.
I don’t know why I’m here. My time would be better spent back at my dorm studying or writing. I don’t want to be here. Why do I keep going to these parties with Janna? I came into college thinking I’d be this different person but I’m the same. Instead of having thirty kids calling me names and trying to bring me down, I have one. But it’s a bad one. And instead of standing up for myself, I’m fooling myself into thinking I am. If I had half the confidence I thought I did, I’d tell Janna a solid no and stick with it. Or, I’d settle into this new lifestyle and embrace it for all it’s worth.
“Mind if I sit down?”
I turn my head to a voice I’d recognize anywhere. Jesse slides into the seat before I can answer. He smells amazing, his scent a reminder of things past. I want to slip under his arm so he can pull me close to him. But I don’t. I cross my arms and lean into the window. “Looks like you already did.”
“Sorry. I hate standing on these things. I always feel like I’m going to fall over at the slightest brake.”
“Hey, I get it. I don’t like buses, either.” I rode the bus all the way until my junior year. Once I got my license, I drove to school every day to avoid run-ins on the bus. It didn’t matter if I sat in the front by the bus driver or sulked way in the back. People found me, made fun of me. If it wasn’t the way I did my hair, it was something else. I smelled bad, I was ugly, weird, fat—pick your adjective. They threw crumpled up paper at me, mooed in my presence, and sometimes made sure I had nowhere to sit. Eventually, I learned to close my eyes and fake sleep.
“I’m a little surprised you came.”
“Oh?” Did he know I’d be here? When Paul invited him, did he specifically ask if I were coming? I consider the possibility he hoped to see me. His line of questioning though makes me wonder if he came under the assumption non-party-goer Violet would stay home.
“I didn’t think driving down to a big city on a bus full of drinkers was your thing.”
“It’s not.” I turn back and face the window again. “I wanted to get out of the dorm, and Janna talked me into it.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re here.”
I say nothing, putting my focus on the passing traffic. People always look back into the bus, but they can’t see me staring at them through the tinted windows. The way people react, you’d think they’d never seen a bus like this before. Of course I hadn’t either until today. It’s always so exciting to people when they see something like a limo. They want to know who’s inside, what’s the occasion, and if they could ever be part of something like it. I never thought I could be, and here I am.
“Vi, please, don’t ignore me.”
“I’m not ignoring you. I don’t have much to say, that’s all.” What am I supposed to do? Turn to him and take him in my arms, refusing to let go? That’s what I want but I’m being realistic. I can already picture the people in the back of the bus watching us, wondering why someone so handsome is talking to someone like me. They think Jesse is playing some sort of joke on me because why else would someone like him sit with someone like me? I can’t be in a relationship that has me questioning intentions, even though I know he is honorable.
“Come on. What happened at the festival? You threw that at me, breaking things off.” His hand touches my knee and I flinch for a second, but don’t push him away. “What did I do wrong?”
“You didn’t do anything wrong, Jesse. It’s not you, it’s me.” He doesn’t deserve a cliche line, but that’s what I’m giving him.
“What? That’s not fair. Tell me how I can change your mind.”
“You can’t. I am what I am and always will be.”
“And what is that?”
I push my lips together, afraid to say the word. Afraid to admit to him how I see myself. I owe it to him though. I owe him the truth. So I say it. “Ugly.”
“What?” He takes a hold of my elbow, forcing me to look at him. The lights flash on the bus, reds and blues and greens flashing over his face as he looks at me. “How can you say that? You’re the most beautiful woman in the entire world.”
“No, I’m not.” I turn away from him, refusing to allow him to see the tear rolling down my cheek. “I’ve never been such a thing, and I never will be. Everyone’s made sure of that.”
“Everyone? Who is everyone?”
I look at him this time and stare into his eyes. “Everyone. Almost every boy I’ve gone to school with, kids on the playground, even a few adults. Between my big nose and thunder thighs, I’m quite the clown on display. I’ve gone my entire life with people imprinting the word in my head. They’ve made damn sure I heard them. After a while, I started to realize it’s true. You’re the complete opposite of me—gorgeous, popular, following your dreams. Not me. I think it’d be best if we went our separate ways. I can’t compete with you. We don’t fit together.”
“How can you say that? This isn’t a competition between us. How I feel when I’m with you, Violet, I can’t even describe it. You make me feel things I’ve never felt before, like I can conquer the world when we’re together. I don’t care what you say, you’re the most beautiful human being I’ve ever known. I want you, Vi.” He takes my shoulders and moves me so I’m facing him. Then he takes his hands and puts them on my cheeks. “You, Vi, I want you.”
Tears fall down my face and into my mouth. He pushes his lips against mine, wiping them away with his tongue. He leans into me, and I lean with my back against the window. I let him kiss me, wrapping my hand around his neck. Why am I walking away from this? Why am I not allowing myself happiness? Why am I letting other people dictate what I do in life? I waited for him—for Jesse—and he’s here. And he wants me. Truly wants me.
And I want him.
We don’t leave the bus the entire evening. At every stop, we inform the driver we’ll stay behind. I’m snuggled into his arms, my head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. When the music is off and we’re the only two on board, it’s so silent. We talk for hours about everything and anything, and we laugh so much my belly aches. Most of all, we hold each other like no one in the world exists but us.
I wish that were true, but hours later, which feels like only minutes, the bus crowds again, and we’re headed back to campus. The stillness from before has quickly turned into yelling, singing, and a lot of drinking. I’m staying true to myself there and not drinking a thing, and neither is Jesse.
“Okay, everyone! Here’s what we’re doing.” A tall brunette whose name I’ve learned to be Penny stands up to make an announcement. She’s stumbling over her words and as we hit a bump, her drink splashes over the side onto the ground. “Truth or dare. Sean, you’re going first.” She points to a dark-haired guy two seats away from me and Jesse. “Do you want truth, or do you want dare?” She lowers her voice a few octaves when she asks about the dare option.
“Dare!” He answers before even taking a second to think about it.
“I dare you to stick your bare ass out the window.”
“We’re on the highway!”
“Good! That thing could use a good airing out!” The man sitting with Sean yells this.
Sean smacks his friend on the head before he stands up and pulls down his pants in front of everyone. I turn away, not wanting to see what he has to offer. He covers the front and does as Penny dared him, his bare butt flying in the wind. He only lasts about five seconds.
“Fuck that’s cold! I think my ass is frozen.”
“It’s not that bad out, dude.”
“Then you do it, Dominic.”
It’s an interesting way to learn everyone’s names, but I’ll admit I’m enjoying the energy now. Everyone is smiling and laughing, and people are talking to me. For the first time in a long time, I fit in. Like maybe I've found a group of people accepting of me.
"Violet's turn!" Penny points at me and my newfound confidence sinks into my gut.
Do I want truth or dare? It's a hard call. Truth could reveal something I'm not so sure I want to reveal. And dare—well, who knows what they'll come up with? I don't want to be a goody-two-shoes, though. I've lived my life trying to fade into the shadows, and here's my chance to stick out and prove to them, and myself, that I'm daring. I'm going to do this. I'm ignoring my stomach twisting into knots and holding back the urge to throw up.
"Dare."
Jesse grabs a hold of my arm. “Are you sure?”
“I’ve never been more sure in my life. What have you got for me, Penny?”
She rubs her hands together as though she’s conspiring an evil plan. “Let’s see.” She puts her fingers to her lips and then pops them off as she puts her finger in the air. “Do a handstand in the middle of the bus.”
“What? I can barely do a handstand when I’m on solid ground, much less on a moving vehicle.”
“You can switch it out for the truth.”
I’ve heard some of her truth questions, and I’d rather splash hot sauce on an open wound than answer one of her truth questions. I’m doing this.
I stand up and step past Jesse, my legs brushing his knees as I move past. I step into the aisle, suddenly relieved I’m wearing jeans rather than a skirt. If I do this right, I can use the seat to hold myself up. I don’t want to stumble and break an arm, or something worse. I crouch down and try to think back to gym class when we practiced things like this. I lean forward and shoot one leg into the air followed by the other. I finagle my body so my butt is resting against the seat.
“Now for the best part.”
Penny’s words confuse me. “What?” The blood is rushing to my head but I don’t want to wimp out and get down just yet. The second the ice cube slides down my back and into the back of my jeans I begin screaming. My feet hit the floor, I stumble and land on my butt.
Everyone is quiet. The music has stopped, and every passenger stares at me, waiting for a response.
I just did a headstand on a moving bus while someone stuck ice cubes down my shirt. I do the only thing I can possibly do.
I laugh hysterically.