“You’re not ugly, Mickey.”
I let out an impatient sigh. “Come on, Liz. You know what I’m talking about. I mean, it was you who mentioned spending my money on a pair of contact lenses.”
“Yeah,” she says, “because you have a beautiful face. It’s just that you hide it behind those horrible glasses.”
The mention of them makes me self-consciously push the glasses up my nose. I grin, as much at myself as Liz. “I got them in the ninth grade.”
Liz practically spits out her wine. “Get out of here! How can you even see with those things? Your prescription is probably miles worse by now!”
This isn’t exactly a news flash. Seeing is kind of tough for me. But since there has never been enough money to deal with the problem, I just make do. Hell, you can adapt to anything.
“You said you have a friend…?”
Liz puts a hand over mine, like a reassuring old lady. “Just leave it up to me,” she says. “I can get you a really good deal. When should we go?”
I’m heading for the cliff and ready to jump. I don’t want to waste any time. “Tomorrow?”
“Great!” She takes a messy bite of spaghetti, slurping shamelessly, and then wipes her mouth. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but, since we’re changing it up a bit, how about you try some new clothes?”
I frown into my wine. “I can’t afford it.”
Liz shakes her head. “Well, you can’t keep wearing those. You just can’t. Why don’t you borrow some of mine?”
My eyes flick to her shirt. It’s pretty and form-fitting, with a funky, artsy pattern on it. I’ve never allowed myself to get too worked up over fashion, but I have noticed that Liz’s clothes are always unique and beautiful.
“Seriously?” I stammer. “You would let me borrow your clothes?”
Liz’s mouth is full of spaghetti but she nods enthusiastically. Then she takes a long sip of wine and gives me an earnest look.
“But listen to me, Mickey,” she says, lowering her voice and leaning over the table. “Be careful of that guy, Jude Lazarus. Seriously. You’re better off not catching his eye.”
I bite my tongue and try not to let the infatuation show on my face. *Why else would I do all of this if not to catch the eye of Jude Lazarus?* “Don’t worry,” I mumble into my glass. “I can handle him.”
“Okay then!” she exclaims excitedly. “I’ll drive us out to the mall tomorrow!” She picks up her glass and holds it in the air. “To my friend Mickey,” she announces, “and her transformation into a swan!”
Chapter Twelve
I’m in the bathroom longer than I expected. For some reason I’m riveted to the mirror, staring at my reflection. It’s like I’m saying goodbye.
I study every detail of my physique that I’ve tried to ignore throughout my years of survival. It couldn’t be a priority to think about the way the tops of my ears poke through the stringy, shapeless strands that fall to my waist. I was in denial about how the goofy, oversized glasses always slid down my nose so that I unconsciously tipped up my chin to look around me. And, until recently, I didn’t mind the baggy, secondhand clothes I picked up at the Salvation Army. They weren’t shabby or dirty or threadbare. In fact, they were good quality clothes. It’s just that they were ugly as sin.
Finally, Liz pops her head in. “Let’s go, Cinderella! Get a move on!”
I startle and tear my gaze from the mirror. Like all big decisions in life, I’ve discovered, you have to set your sights ahead and go full throttle. And God forbid you look back. I grab my bag and head out the door.
It’s still early and the mall isn’t crowded yet. Everyone is still lounging around, enjoying the Saturday morning. But Liz is a ball of energy. She stops at every shop window pointing out cute outfits she thinks would look good on me, prefacing everything with, “I know you can’t afford it right now, but…”
When we
I let out an impatient sigh. “Come on, Liz. You know what I’m talking about. I mean, it was you who mentioned spending my money on a pair of contact lenses.”
“Yeah,” she says, “because you have a beautiful face. It’s just that you hide it behind those horrible glasses.”
The mention of them makes me self-consciously push the glasses up my nose. I grin, as much at myself as Liz. “I got them in the ninth grade.”
Liz practically spits out her wine. “Get out of here! How can you even see with those things? Your prescription is probably miles worse by now!”
This isn’t exactly a news flash. Seeing is kind of tough for me. But since there has never been enough money to deal with the problem, I just make do. Hell, you can adapt to anything.
“You said you have a friend…?”
Liz puts a hand over mine, like a reassuring old lady. “Just leave it up to me,” she says. “I can get you a really good deal. When should we go?”
I’m heading for the cliff and ready to jump. I don’t want to waste any time. “Tomorrow?”
“Great!” She takes a messy bite of spaghetti, slurping shamelessly, and then wipes her mouth. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but, since we’re changing it up a bit, how about you try some new clothes?”
I frown into my wine. “I can’t afford it.”
Liz shakes her head. “Well, you can’t keep wearing those. You just can’t. Why don’t you borrow some of mine?”
My eyes flick to her shirt. It’s pretty and form-fitting, with a funky, artsy pattern on it. I’ve never allowed myself to get too worked up over fashion, but I have noticed that Liz’s clothes are always unique and beautiful.
“Seriously?” I stammer. “You would let me borrow your clothes?”
Liz’s mouth is full of spaghetti but she nods enthusiastically. Then she takes a long sip of wine and gives me an earnest look.
“But listen to me, Mickey,” she says, lowering her voice and leaning over the table. “Be careful of that guy, Jude Lazarus. Seriously. You’re better off not catching his eye.”
I bite my tongue and try not to let the infatuation show on my face. *Why else would I do all of this if not to catch the eye of Jude Lazarus?* “Don’t worry,” I mumble into my glass. “I can handle him.”
“Okay then!” she exclaims excitedly. “I’ll drive us out to the mall tomorrow!” She picks up her glass and holds it in the air. “To my friend Mickey,” she announces, “and her transformation into a swan!”
Chapter Twelve
I’m in the bathroom longer than I expected. For some reason I’m riveted to the mirror, staring at my reflection. It’s like I’m saying goodbye.
I study every detail of my physique that I’ve tried to ignore throughout my years of survival. It couldn’t be a priority to think about the way the tops of my ears poke through the stringy, shapeless strands that fall to my waist. I was in denial about how the goofy, oversized glasses always slid down my nose so that I unconsciously tipped up my chin to look around me. And, until recently, I didn’t mind the baggy, secondhand clothes I picked up at the Salvation Army. They weren’t shabby or dirty or threadbare. In fact, they were good quality clothes. It’s just that they were ugly as sin.
Finally, Liz pops her head in. “Let’s go, Cinderella! Get a move on!”
I startle and tear my gaze from the mirror. Like all big decisions in life, I’ve discovered, you have to set your sights ahead and go full throttle. And God forbid you look back. I grab my bag and head out the door.
It’s still early and the mall isn’t crowded yet. Everyone is still lounging around, enjoying the Saturday morning. But Liz is a ball of energy. She stops at every shop window pointing out cute outfits she thinks would look good on me, prefacing everything with, “I know you can’t afford it right now, but…”
When we
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