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Ugly Beautiful Girl by Tracy Krimmer (18)






Chapter Eighteen


Complete


Only by following

your own advice and dreams

can the pieces of the puzzle

fit together into yourself

and the silence of your life become spoken.


^^^


I slide on my boots and pull my jacket over my shoulders waiting to zip it until I’m out in the hallway. Waking up Olivia and dealing with her this morning is the last thing I want to do. I heard her come in at around one in the morning, stumbling everywhere. Right now she’s sprawled out across her bed, and it’s a safe bet she’ll be out another few hours. 

It’s after seven, the sun just having come out. Even though it’s only about twenty degrees, the sun is shining without a cloud in sight, making it feel a bit warmer than it is. The absence of wind helps, too.

The walk to Janna’s dorm is only about six or seven minutes. When I’m standing in front of her room, the board outside has written on it in capital letters, “WOOF! WOOF!” I erase it with my sleeve. She doesn’t need to see that. I’m playing this by ear, not sure how to even begin. I take the first step and knock on the door, my stomach on the spin cycle.

Janna answers, a plain look on her face. She doesn’t smile, she doesn’t frown. She kind of just is. 

“Hey.” A lame way to begin, but it’s a start.

“Hey.” She grabs onto her elbow with her opposite hand. She’s out of her gown and dressed for the day in blue jeans and an oversized sweater.

“I was hoping we could talk. Want to take a walk?”

She thinks about it for a moment before nodding her head. I wait for her to put boots and a jacket on, and we walk downstairs in silence. 

I open the front door and allow her to step out first. Once outside, we fall into stride with each other, not even sure where we’re going.

“That was something last night.” A stupid way to begin the conversation, I guess. It was more than something. Shitty. Humiliating. Something that a few months ago I would have stood up and not been a part of.

“That’s putting it mildly.”

“I suppose so.” No one says anything for a few moments. “I’m sorry, Janna. Things got out of hand.”

“Yeah, they did.” We make a turn, still with no destination in sight. “I don’t care, if that’s why you’re here.”

“You don’t?” How can she not care? Even if she’s the most laid-back person in the world, how can what Olivia did not affect her at all?

“No. I’ve been through enough crappy stuff to worry about people like Olivia Fisher.”

I’ve always sensed maybe life wasn’t perfect for her as a kid, but she’s never brought it up. Does she want to talk about it? I don’t want to press the issue and push her away. I only want to be friends again. Part of being friends, though, is sharing things. Sharing our past.

“Can you tell me? What happened?”

I’m choppy with my request. How does someone delve into such a conversation? I can’t say, “Hey, tell me about your shitty past.” Can I?

“Where do I even start?” She blows out a breath and I can see it in the cold air, making me shiver. A few students pass us, bundled up with hats and scarves. My ears are cold, but I don’t care. I’d let them freeze off if I had to. My friendship with Janna is too important.

“It always starts with an absent father, doesn’t it?” She asks me this as though I have the answer, and then I realize she’s being honest and sharing her truth with me. “I mean, that’s how it always is in the movies, right, so why in not real life?”

“So he wasn’t around?”

“Pfft. Barely. He appeared from time to time to screw my mom, that’s about it. If he wasn’t screwing her, he was slapping her around.”

I gasp before I even realize I’ve done it. Never in my life have I witnessed such a situation. Sure, my parents have had their moments over the years, raising their voices to each other from time to time, but not once has my dad ever raised his hand to my mother—or vice versa.

“It’s okay. You’re sheltered, I get it. These are things you see on Lifetime or Dateline or something, right? Well, I live it. Mom always has a boyfriend. Right now it’s some guy named Dave. He’s a lawn guy. You know, he sprays chemicals on people’s grass so they have plush green grass while killing everything around it. He smokes way too much and lies on my mom’s couch when he’s not working. I don’t even know if he has a real house or if he’s freeloading off us. She’s paraded so many men into our home I’m surprised one of them hasn’t turned out to be a serial killer.”

“Wow. I had no idea. I’m sorry, Janna.”

“Don’t be. I’ve dealt with it. I know who I am. I’m independent, strong, and I don’t care if I bark like a dog or beat my hands on my chest like a gorilla in front of a hundred people.”

Janna is incredible. She’s the kind of person I strive to be—comfortable in her own skin, not afraid to speak her mind and do what needs to be done in order to get through any given day. I want to ask her about Paul. I need to know about her stability. 

“That day when Jesse and I came to Paul’s house, you were pretty out of it. What happened there? Are you still…”

“Drinking? Getting high? Violet, I’m going to do that occasionally. But I know now I let it get out of control. I loved being with Paul because he helped me forget about it all. Until one day he didn’t. I woke up one morning after a heavy night of partying and when I looked in the mirror, I saw my mom. I love my mom but I have no desire to be like her.”

“Me, either.” I think of my mom, always favoring Rose over me, trying to decide my future, pushing me in directions I don’t want to go. I don’t want to be like that to my children.

“Yes, you do.”

“Trust me, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do. You may think you don’t, but compare your childhood to mine and you’ll see how lucky you have it.”

I understand what she’s trying to say. I really do. I don’t want to shrug off what happened to her because it sucks. Big time. But just as I haven’t walked in her shoes, she hasn’t walked in mine. Sure, she had struggles, and they were hard, but I had them, too. I still do. 

“I’d give anything to have a family like yours,” she continues. “Strong, together, supportive. Most of all—present.”

I don’t know how present they really are. In the past, before Rose was born, maybe then, but for the past five years, I’ve felt more disconnected than ever.

“Maybe you see it that way, but that’s not how it is. The things you dealt with were hard, but I’ve had my share of hardships, too.”

“Like what? What has Violet endured that has affected her so greatly?”

Things I don’t want to share with anyone. There is more than the spitting on the bus or the making fun of my hair. There were times I wanted to say forget it, just end it all because that seemed easier. I don’t know what stopped me. My parents, maybe. Them having to explain it to Rose. Or maybe because I held onto a small piece of hope people like Janna and Jesse would come into my life and change things. Change me.

“There’s so much, Janna. This one group of kids never left me alone. They’d seek me out. I remember this one time at the lake. It was a school trip. I had to go to the bathroom so bad. All that was there were those portable toilets. I thought nothing of it and went in one. The next thing I knew those girls were shaking the unit, taunting me. I could hear the water swishing back and forth—I still can. I prayed it wouldn’t tip. Luckily, a teacher headed toward the toilet and they ran off. I waited for almost an hour to leave that thing. When I finally did, I reeked. No one would sit with me. One of the chaperones had to because there wasn’t enough space on the bus. She held her hand over her nose and mouth the entire time. Once we got back to school, the kids chanted in the hall, ‘Violet, Violet, she’s so ugly and smells like shit.’ I was humiliated.”

Janna stopped walking and put her hand on my back. “That’s horrible. I’m sorry you had to go through that. What did your parents say?”

“Kids will be kids. That’s a direct quote. I recently found out they had concerns, but they didn’t let on or even ask me about it. I can’t believe they didn’t do anything.”

“Me, either. If I’d been around, I would have kicked their asses.”

I have no doubt she would have. She’s that kind of friend, and I don’t know what blocked my view of seeing that before.

“It’s a shame your parents ignored it.”

“Yeah, well my parents didn’t have these problems when they were kids. They were well-liked. I still sometimes think they don’t believe me. I know it’s hard to believe, but it happened. Things like that over and over and over again.”

We arrive at the quad, and walk through to the cafeteria. “I say screw ‘em all. As long as we have each other.”

I like that. Me and Janna against the world. People like Olivia are toxic, and I don’t want that in my life, even if she is my boyfriend’s sister.

“Hungry?” Janna asks.

I am, but this time for actual food rather than power.


“I haven’t seen you in a while.” Will flips a chip into his mouth. We’re in the break room and after a hectic morning, I’m glad to be eating.

“Has it been that long?”

“I haven’t seen you for at least a month. Different scheduling I guess. How are things?”

“Good.” I’ve made up with Janna, and I’m happy with Jesse. I can’t really complain. “Any updates on Robert and Roxanne? Last I saw them they were holding hands and doing a crossword together.”

“That’s about it. They wander this place together every day, it seems. I’m glad we got them together.”

“Yeah, me too.” Seeing Robert so happy makes me warm inside. He still has a harsh personality, but he’s lightened up a little. Roxanne has been a good change for him.

“How’s that boyfriend of yours?”

“Good.” What does he want me to say? What details is he interested in?

“I recently started seeing someone.”

“Oh?” This is news to me. He’s never talked about any love interests before. Robert and Roxanne were about as far as it went. I don’t think I even knew he was single.

“Yeah, her name is Katie. We met a few months ago but only recently became a couple.”

“That’s great, Will. It really is.”

He says nothing for a moment, the crunches from his potato chips the only thing filling the silence. “You know, I had a little crush on you for the longest time.”

“You did?” I thought he might have but found it hard to believe. Men don’t develop crushes on me. Jesse came out of nowhere and surprised me—a good surprise—but never would I imagine two guys liking me, much less at the same time.

“I can’t believe you didn’t know. I flirted with you all the time and even tried to pull off a couples costume even though we weren’t a couple. You didn’t catch onto that?”

“No, I didn’t.” Even if I did a little, I’m not admitting to it. I’m flattered, and a piece of my heart beats for him for wanting to give me a real chance. I’m glad to call him my friend because now I know that he is one. A real one. 

His phone lights up and he picks it up, cocking his head to the right. He unlocks it and flips through a few things. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Did you send me a friend request on Facebook?”

“No. We’re already friends.” I get up from the table and lean over him to see his phone. There is a picture of me in my Valentine’s Day dress, asleep on my bed as a profile picture and the name Vi Duncan.

I snatch the phone from his hand. “Let me see that.” I scroll through the account, which goes back a few weeks. The most activity occurred in the past few weeks. There are pictures of me in random stages of dress, others with me in the quad with Jesse. There’s another from the bus ride with me obviously photoshopped. Then there is one from the day at that store with Will. We’re in the aisle with the cart, laughing, my hand on his arm.

“Will, this isn’t my account. Someone hacked me and created a new profile.” Who would do this? Why would someone do this? “It was Olivia. I’m sure of it.”

“I can’t believe someone would do that. What are you going to do?”

“What can I do? It’s not like I can change the password or something. I have to say something to her. She can’t get away with this.” I read the caption of the photo. Shopping with my man.

I click on the Friends list. Who has seen this? She has hundreds of friends. How is that even possible? Me, the real Violet Duncan, doesn’t even have a hundred friends. My list is sparse. I scroll through and through and then I see it. She’s friends with Jesse. Has Jesse seen this picture?

“I have to go.” I hand him his phone.

“What about work?”

“Can you cover for me and tell Carla I’m sick? Tell her I threw up in the bathroom or something.”

He agrees, and I race as fast as I can back to the dorms. I hustle to Jesse’s dorm and knock on the door, hitting it so hard my fist becomes numb.

“It was your sister! Don’t believe that photo!” I yell as soon as the door opens. I’m still screaming the words as Olivia stands behind the door. 

“Violet, I think you should leave. Jesse doesn’t want to see you.”

“You did this. You!” My heart feels as though it is about to explode, pounding against my ribcage with such force. Every pulse hurts, the betrayal wrapping around and squeezing like a boa constrictor.

“I didn’t do anything. You’re the one who cheated on my brother with that preppy boy. This is your fault. I think it’s safe to say Jesse is done with you.”

She widens the door enough for me to see him. He’s sitting on the bed, a look of disbelief on his face. “Jesse, please talk to me.”

He stands up and walks to the door. He looks me in the eye, and I can see the pain inside. “Why, Violet? I told you this happened to me before. Multiple times. Why would you do this?”

“I didn’t! Will means nothing to me! We work together. Nothing more.” How can I convince him? What do I need to say?

“The proof is in the pictures,” he says as he shuts the door.

I stand in the hallway of his dorm, staring at the door, wondering how it came to this. How did I go from the ugliest girl to the one with the most beautiful boyfriend, to alone in the hallway to take care of my own wounds?

I’ll always be that girl stuck in the shitter.


I’m not sure if there is anything worse than when someone accuses you of something you didn’t do, especially when someone you care about is doing the accusing. I can’t go back to my dorm right now. What if Olivia shows up? She’s the one behind all this, and Jesse needs to know. Still standing outside his room, I text him. Olivia responds for him, telling me she’s blocking my number.

How can she do this?

I find my way to Janna’s room. The second she opens the door, I race past her. “I think I need a drink or something. Do you have anything?” I open her drawers and rummage through, searching for anything to ease the pain.

“Slow down, Vi. What’s going on?”

I ignore her, stripping her bed of its sheets and tossing her pillows on the floor. “I understand now. You drink to numb the pain. I need it.”

“Violet!” She yells until I stop. “Sit down.”

She grabs me and pushes me onto her bed. I take a deep breath before the tears rush out of me like a raging river. “Jesse broke up with me. Well, I think he did. It’s over, Janna. It’s over.”

“Tell me what happened.”

I try, but the tears won’t stop coming. My tears have taken over, and I don’t know how to make them stop. I’m past the point of sobbing and have almost reached hyperventilation.

“Violet, slow and steady breathing. I can’t help you if you won’t tell me what happened.”

I close my eyes for a few moments until I’m calm enough to speak. Through the tears, I explain the fake Facebook profile and how Olivia came between me and Jesse. I feared this. I knew this would happen. Why didn’t I listen to my own warnings?

“I’d say I can’t believe she did that but then again, I can. This is what she does.”

“What do you mean?

“This is her end game, all the time.”

“I’ll need you to be more specific.”

“Do you find it ironic that every girl Jesse has dated has cheated on him?”

“Every single one?”

“Yes. Every. Single. One.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“And you should.” Janna sits next to me on the bed. “I don’t think any of them did. Olivia makes it look that way. She always destroys the relationship, to make it look like the girl cheated on him. I went to school with them, remember? I know every girl Jesse has gone out with. None of them would ever say anything to Olivia. She always scared them.”

I can’t believe what I’m hearing. How does Jesse not know this? How can she get away with this?

“Why does she do that? It doesn’t make sense. Doesn’t she want her brother to be happy?”

“I don’t have a clue, to be honest. Olivia never was a nice person. At least on the surface. I’m sure there’s more to her than she lets on, but all she lets anyone see is this bitch that she thinks everyone thinks is a hard ass. She’s not. Trust me.”

How can I convince Jesse I didn’t cheat on him? He’ll believe what he wants to believe. Doesn’t he trust me? Doesn’t he want to be with me?

“And you don’t need alcohol for this. You know what happens when you drink.”

I do, but I want to forget about what just happened, if even for a little while.

“How can’t Jesse see this coincidence? Doesn’t he find it odd? Doesn’t he see the pattern? I have to tell him. He has to know what she’s been doing.”

“It won’t make a difference. I don’t think he’ll believe you. Even though Jesse and his sister don’t get along very well, she’s still his sister. He’ll believe his family over anybody else.”

I understand that. If it came down to my parents trying to tell me something or Janna, I would believe my parents first. But if the case was so strong, then maybe I would have no choice but to believe someone else over them. “No. He has to believe me. He has to.”

“Violet, I know you like him. I mean, what’s not to like? He’s good-looking, nice, rich. But you’ve only known each other, what, five months? There will be other guys.”

“No, there won’t.” 

“Yes, there will.”

“No, there won’t! Jesse is the only one who has ever shown interest in me. That’s not even why I’m with him. He makes me feel special. He makes me feel beautiful.”

“Oh, Violet.” She puts her arm around me and I lay my head on her shoulder. “You don’t need a man to define your beauty. You are beautiful. Don’t you know that?”

“I’m not. Haven’t I proven that to you with the shitter story?”

“High school sucks. Grade school sucks. All of it. It sucks. But you know what? We get older, smarter, we move on.”

“That’s easy for you to say. You don’t care what people think. I know I shouldn’t, I do. Not to mention that not only have you had one boyfriend, but you’ve had others. I never even went to my high school prom!” 

“First, that’s not my fault. You could have gone. Going to prom doesn’t require a date. They’re not going to turn you away at the door if you don’t have a guy on your arm. You chose not to go.” 

“I—“  

“Don’t cut me off. I’m not done with you.” 

She shuts me up real fast. I came here to feel better, not worse. The way Janna is scolding me, I want to drink more than ever.

“Sure. I’ve had boyfriends. Do you really think I was fucking Paul because I like him? No. We all deal with our issues in different ways. I use sex.” Her arm drops off my shoulder and she puts her hands on her lap. “Huh. That’s the first time I’ve ever said that out loud.”

“Are you having some sort of epiphany here?” 

She stands up and straightens her shirt as she walks over to the desk and leans against it. ”I’m telling you that you don’t need Jesse to feel beautiful. That you don’t need this man in your life to define who you are, but while I’m preaching that, I’m using every man I find to define me. Everything I’m telling you not to do, I’m doing.”

“See? Confidence doesn’t necessarily come easy.”

She slides down onto the floor and wraps her hands around her knees as she pulls them up against her chest. “I guess not.” She sighs. “Still want that drink?”

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