Beautiful Boy(29)

He held up the flowers, suddenly looking like a shy boy on a first date,  and it made my heart speed up. "I got these for you, but then I got  sidetracked and forgot them by the door."

I took them from him, buried my face in the different-colored blooms,  and pulled in a deep inhalation to smell the soft fragrance. "Thank you.  They're gorgeous."

"You're gorgeous." He kissed my cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow."





I had three missed calls, five texts, and a voicemail waiting for me by  the time I made it home. All of which were from Shari. I didn't bother  to scan or listen to the messages, and decided to call her back instead.

"I know you're upset with me for talking to Nolan behind your back and  setting up that stupid photo shoot, but how much longer do you plan to  punish me?" Her high-pitched voice came through the line in lieu of a  hello.

"I'm not punishing you. I've been busy."

"Busy? With what? You haven't been with me, and you only worked half the  day today. So what exactly have you been busy with?" She gasped loudly  into my ear. "Oh! You've met someone!"

"I was with Nolan."

"Nolan? As in the biggest bag of douche known to mankind? As in the asshat you despise? Why the hell would you be with him?"

"I think we may have hated him for no reason."

"No reason?"

I never understood why, but when Shari was shocked at something I'd say,  she'd repeat my words but in the form of a question, adding a lilt to  the end and a sarcastic tone.

"I'm sorry, Novah … but do you not remember what he did to you? The  humiliation he caused you? The years of torment you had to endure  because of him? I'd say we had plenty of reasons to hate him."

"You don't need to remind me, Share. I remember high school vividly."  And I did. Those years were clearer in my mind than any other throughout  my life.

The hallway was filled with kids, some standing along the wall in  groups, some strolling alone with backpacks over their shoulders, and  some with their faces stuck in their lockers. I'd walked down the same  hallway every morning since school had started in August, but this  morning was different.

As I moved past, some of the kids stared at me, probably noticing the  difference in my appearance. I'd never worn makeup before, but I'd  decided to put some on-just a little color to my eyes and a shimmery  gloss to my lips. I also curled my hair. Instead of jeans and a plain  shirt, I wore a simple dress with a light sweater. It felt like all eyes  were on me as I strode to my locker.

One of the seniors stopped in front of me, halting my steps, and licked  his lips. "You look good enough to eat," he said with his eyes zeroed in  on my chest, even though he couldn't see anything. Then he laughed and  shuffled away, the guys he was with eyeing me as they all passed.         

     



 

I put my head down and finished making my way to my locker, feeling  exposed and uncomfortable. No one had ever stopped me before, especially  a jock or upperclassman. No one had ever made ludicrous comments or  inappropriate remarks to me. But the one morning I showed up in a dress  with a little color to my face, it seemed like I had a spotlight on me,  and everyone had either a facial expression to make or a comment to say.

I didn't understand it, but once I opened my locker, things became very  clear-and unclear all at once. A piece of paper fell to my feet. It  wasn't until I picked it up that I realized it was a picture … of me. My  eyes were closed in the shot, my head tilted back with my mouth wide  open. You couldn't see the shirt hanging off my shoulders, but my white,  cotton bra was very clear, and so were my erect nipples through the  cups.

I gasped and shoved the photo back into my locker, worried others would  see it. But as I glanced around the hall to verify no one had been  looking, I got the sense something was off-wrong. A few people  mindlessly strolled by, but everyone else seemed to watch my every move.  Some smiled, others whispered and giggled, and a few guys wagged their  eyebrows at me. I couldn't take their unwanted attention anymore and  slammed my locker closed, ready to run away and cower.

I made it five steps before I found Nolan standing in the middle of the  hallway surrounded by his fellow football players. His dark eyes locked  with mine, and then I noticed the photo in his hand. His friends all  stood around him, saying something, or maybe just laughing, I didn't  know. But it was too much for me to handle, so I turned around and ran  down the hall, plowing people over in my rush to get away. As I ran past  them, I heard, "Oh!" being screamed out behind me. Except it wasn't the  kind of "oh" you'd say when you remembered something you forgot or when  you figured out the punch line to a joke. It was long and drug out,  sometimes squealed, but always inappropriate.

Crude.

As I ran, I could hear my name being called out through the obnoxious  commentary, but I didn't stop. I didn't answer or turn around to see  who'd called it. Just a constant "Novah!" followed the clapping of my  flip-flops as I ran.

"Novah!" Shari's voice pulled me from my depressing memory. "Are you  going to answer me, or do I have to come find you and beat it out of  you?"

"I'm sorry. I got sidetracked for a minute. What did you ask me?"

"I asked … if you remember high school and everything he did to you so  well, then why the hell are you talking to him? I thought the plan was  to make him eat dirt, tell him off, and then leave him alone?"

"He wasn't the one who spread the pictures, Share."

"Oh, so you believe him now? Don't let him fool you. He tried this before. Just kick him in his nuts and leave him alone."

I sat down on my couch and curled into the cushion, knowing this would be a very long conversation. "I believe him."

"And what about the stunt he pulled with wanting you to take all those  pictures this past weekend? He's an asshole, Novah. You even said it  yourself. He's full of himself and apparently likes to humiliate the  disabled."

"Nolan isn't the same person we remember him being, nor is he anything  like we expected. After he left high school, he went off to war."

"Is there anything he says you won't believe?" The irritation in her  tone was heavy, and it dragged down each word until her voice was deep  and condescending.

"It's the truth. He didn't send us those people because he thought they  were hideous-well, maybe he did, but not for the reasons we thought. He  has a problem seeing anything attractive about a disfigured person  because … he's disfigured himself. He lost a leg in the war."

Silence.

Nothing but complete silence came through the line. Then small, quiet breaths broke through, followed by shocked stuttering.

"That's what I'm saying, Shari. We've hated him for something he doesn't  deserve. The pictures he took were stolen out of his room by some of  the guys at school. He had no idea. And he's paid a very high price for  it-way more than I ever did."

"Wow … I don't even know what to say."

"I've held onto this anger for years, blaming and hating him. I was  wrong. It was a shitty situation and it never should've happened, but  he's not the bad guy here. In fact, seeing him again and talking about  everything has opened my eyes. I can't live in the past, live with the  resentment of something I can't change. He's proof of how damaging it is  to hold onto it all. I have to let it go … and I think I already have."         

     



 

I told her about the junkyard and about going to his house for  dinner-both times. She remained silent as I talked about the way he'd  trashed his place the first night, and about the way he fucked me  against the desk earlier. Once I got into that part of the story, she  had a few things to say, but it was mostly just personal questions about  him I couldn't-or wouldn't-answer.

We talked on the phone for another hour as she told me about Mike, and  then I went to bed. Nolan stole every dream I had and filled me with  mixed emotions. Shari's advice drifted into some of it, and no matter  how hard I tried to block out the dark cloud of dread, it wouldn't seem  to fully go away.

At noon the next day, I sent Nolan a text inviting him over to my house  for a lazy day of movies. With my mind muddled over what to do, I had no  desire to go anywhere, but I couldn't fight my need to see him, either.

It took him almost an hour to get to my house, but he brought lunch with  him. We ate our subs-he sat by himself on the loveseat-and we watched  the first Borne movie in silence. It was awkward and uncomfortable, but I  couldn't pull myself together enough to speak my mind. And he seemed to  feel the same way.

Finally, just as the second movie came on, he leaned forward and hung  his head as if his thoughts were too heavy and weighed him down.

"What's going on?" I asked after pausing the movie. He'd been quiet  since showing up, but this was the first time he actually exhibited any  real emotion.