Colorless (Section Thirty-Three)
Somehow, I got through the day without throwing up, though it was a close shave sometimes. I didn’t have any classes with Nick besides study hall, but it was a small school. I saw him everywhere. It was awful. And then, at the end of the day, I bumped into him in the hallway. We just stared at each other for half a second. I was sure he was going to say something-I could see it in his eyes, and hope wrapped its fingers around my throat and squeezed ‘til I couldn’t breathe, was sure I would never breathe again-but then he just shook his head, handed me my books, and walked away. I felt it like a punch in the gut.
My heart beating too hard for rational thought, I fled to the bathroom and splashed water in the face, willing my stomach to calm. I glanced at myself in the mirror and froze. I looked like a ghost: pale, sweaty, disgusting. My hands clenched on the sink.
This had to stop.
I leaned my head against the mirror and just stood there for a little bit, waiting for my stomach to settle. The cool glass helped a little, but even it couldn’t banish that thought, still repeating. This kind of bullshit had to end. I was so, so tired of arranging my life around Nick. I lifted my head and looked at myself again. I’d spent so much of my life trying to keep him happy-trying to keep everyone in my life happy. And the one time I did something for myself… I found out that everyone but him had been pleased for me. Had wanted me to do something like that.
But Nick…
I pressed my fists against my eyes. What had I been doing with my life?
Maybe this was what Elly had been so sure of at lunch: that I would realize that everyone else was right, that this was good for me. That I had to figure out who I was and what I wanted before I could be friends with him again-since he seemed to think he could make those decisions for me, or at least influence them. I couldn’t talk to him, couldn’t spend every waking moment wondering if he’d talk to me. I’d have to just… be myself. Figure out who that was. If he came back to me… that was his prerogative. But I couldn’t waste any more of my time wondering-hoping-that he would. I needed to shape up.
I stared at myself for a minute or two more. Then I splashed some water on my face and headed out into the hallway.
I was so… overwhelmed that I didn’t see Elly until she walked out in front of me. Like today at lunch, I just stared at her: it was a good ten minutes after the bell; usually, she’d be halfway home by now. Elly put her hands on her hips. “I figured you’d be here. This is your favorite freak-out bathroom.” I blinked. She raised her eyebrows. “Ben, if you keep gaping at me like that, your brains will fall out your mouth, and I don’t think you can afford that.”
I blinked again. “Elly… why are you here?”
She patted my cheek. “For you, silly. We’re going prom dress shopping.”
I always think that eventually I will get used to the things that drop out of Elly’s mouth. I never do. “Elly,” I said, as she took my arm and started steering me down the hallway, “prom’s not until April.” Elly glanced at me as though to say, “So?” I raised my eyebrows. “It’s January.”
Elly sighed in exasperation. “Yes, but now all the dresses will be cheap. Anyway, it’s never too early to start looking.”
“Elly,” I said carefully, glancing at her iron grip on my arm, “why do I have to come?”
Elly whirled to stand in front of me so quickly I almost walked into her. “Because.” She jabbed me in the chest with her index finger. “You are undoubtedly going to do one of two things: go back to your house and mope, or go over to Andy’s and mope. Neither will accomplish anything, and I will get very bored with you if you keep slouching around like a kicked puppy.”
I wanted to point out that it had only been a day, but Elly had a very short attention span, and, anyway, she was right on all points. I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. “All right, let’s go.” Elly smiled and took my arm again. I knew better than to protest.
***
Elly ran her fingers over the hangers, looking for her size. I stood very still and tried not to attract too much attention. Gay or not, I will never be comfortable among ruffles and glitter. Elly picked up a purple dress and held it against her to check the length. She’s ridiculously skinny-half-demon metabolism-but she’s also almost as tall as I am. “I love this store,” she said, pressing her face into the dress and taking a blissful breath.
I shoved my hands in my pockets and hunched my shoulders. “I don’t.”
Elly patted my shoulder as she passed me to get to another rack. “Oh, shh. I’ll buy you food when I’m done.” I let out a deep breath and did my best to make myself invisible-now there’d be a useful power. “Hmm.” She chose another dress and studied it for a second. Then she looked at me. “I should have invited Andy. It’s so cool having a gay friend.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
“Elly,” I said, raising my eyebrows as high as they would go, “I’m gay.”
Elly put her hands on her hips, dresses and all. “Yeah, but you’re the ‘mope and angst about being gay’ kind. That’s nice in romance novels and all, but it’s not very fun in real life.” She looked at her second dress again and frowned. “After all, if you can’t tell me if this color will look good with my skin, what’s the point?”
I rubbed my forehead, though I was too used to this kind of thing to be really exasperated. Trust Elly to take the biggest realization of my life and turn it into something trivial. Oh, well. At least she was still talking to me. Elly handed me the dresses; I took them with the kind of sigh that told everyone within earshot that I was not enjoying this. “Okay, so if I’m ‘mopey’ gay, what kind is Andy?”
Elly looked at me as though this should be obvious. “The fun kind.” She picked up another dress, considered it, and put it back. She grabbed my arm. “Come on, I want to try this on.”
My heart beating too hard for rational thought, I fled to the bathroom and splashed water in the face, willing my stomach to calm. I glanced at myself in the mirror and froze. I looked like a ghost: pale, sweaty, disgusting. My hands clenched on the sink.
This had to stop.
I leaned my head against the mirror and just stood there for a little bit, waiting for my stomach to settle. The cool glass helped a little, but even it couldn’t banish that thought, still repeating. This kind of bullshit had to end. I was so, so tired of arranging my life around Nick. I lifted my head and looked at myself again. I’d spent so much of my life trying to keep him happy-trying to keep everyone in my life happy. And the one time I did something for myself… I found out that everyone but him had been pleased for me. Had wanted me to do something like that.
But Nick…
I pressed my fists against my eyes. What had I been doing with my life?
Maybe this was what Elly had been so sure of at lunch: that I would realize that everyone else was right, that this was good for me. That I had to figure out who I was and what I wanted before I could be friends with him again-since he seemed to think he could make those decisions for me, or at least influence them. I couldn’t talk to him, couldn’t spend every waking moment wondering if he’d talk to me. I’d have to just… be myself. Figure out who that was. If he came back to me… that was his prerogative. But I couldn’t waste any more of my time wondering-hoping-that he would. I needed to shape up.
I stared at myself for a minute or two more. Then I splashed some water on my face and headed out into the hallway.
I was so… overwhelmed that I didn’t see Elly until she walked out in front of me. Like today at lunch, I just stared at her: it was a good ten minutes after the bell; usually, she’d be halfway home by now. Elly put her hands on her hips. “I figured you’d be here. This is your favorite freak-out bathroom.” I blinked. She raised her eyebrows. “Ben, if you keep gaping at me like that, your brains will fall out your mouth, and I don’t think you can afford that.”
I blinked again. “Elly… why are you here?”
She patted my cheek. “For you, silly. We’re going prom dress shopping.”
I always think that eventually I will get used to the things that drop out of Elly’s mouth. I never do. “Elly,” I said, as she took my arm and started steering me down the hallway, “prom’s not until April.” Elly glanced at me as though to say, “So?” I raised my eyebrows. “It’s January.”
Elly sighed in exasperation. “Yes, but now all the dresses will be cheap. Anyway, it’s never too early to start looking.”
“Elly,” I said carefully, glancing at her iron grip on my arm, “why do I have to come?”
Elly whirled to stand in front of me so quickly I almost walked into her. “Because.” She jabbed me in the chest with her index finger. “You are undoubtedly going to do one of two things: go back to your house and mope, or go over to Andy’s and mope. Neither will accomplish anything, and I will get very bored with you if you keep slouching around like a kicked puppy.”
I wanted to point out that it had only been a day, but Elly had a very short attention span, and, anyway, she was right on all points. I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. “All right, let’s go.” Elly smiled and took my arm again. I knew better than to protest.
***
Elly ran her fingers over the hangers, looking for her size. I stood very still and tried not to attract too much attention. Gay or not, I will never be comfortable among ruffles and glitter. Elly picked up a purple dress and held it against her to check the length. She’s ridiculously skinny-half-demon metabolism-but she’s also almost as tall as I am. “I love this store,” she said, pressing her face into the dress and taking a blissful breath.
I shoved my hands in my pockets and hunched my shoulders. “I don’t.”
Elly patted my shoulder as she passed me to get to another rack. “Oh, shh. I’ll buy you food when I’m done.” I let out a deep breath and did my best to make myself invisible-now there’d be a useful power. “Hmm.” She chose another dress and studied it for a second. Then she looked at me. “I should have invited Andy. It’s so cool having a gay friend.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
“Elly,” I said, raising my eyebrows as high as they would go, “I’m gay.”
Elly put her hands on her hips, dresses and all. “Yeah, but you’re the ‘mope and angst about being gay’ kind. That’s nice in romance novels and all, but it’s not very fun in real life.” She looked at her second dress again and frowned. “After all, if you can’t tell me if this color will look good with my skin, what’s the point?”
I rubbed my forehead, though I was too used to this kind of thing to be really exasperated. Trust Elly to take the biggest realization of my life and turn it into something trivial. Oh, well. At least she was still talking to me. Elly handed me the dresses; I took them with the kind of sigh that told everyone within earshot that I was not enjoying this. “Okay, so if I’m ‘mopey’ gay, what kind is Andy?”
Elly looked at me as though this should be obvious. “The fun kind.” She picked up another dress, considered it, and put it back. She grabbed my arm. “Come on, I want to try this on.”