Wilde Fire

Chapter 6: Present

The early morning sun is hot against my closed lids, the brightness invading my sight as soon as my eyes flutter open after a good night's sleep. I stretch my arms and legs, my mouth open wide as I yawn. Although the night is long over, a smile is permanent on my face.

I almost feel like an entirely different person. Last night, I broke out of the shell that I had been hiding inside for so long. Rather than letting the fear of judgment hold me back, I showed people who I truly was. I am still Sidney, but somehow, I managed to improve the girl that I had always been. For the first time in a long time, I had fun. I laughed, I talked, I made memories, and most importantly, I made friends--other than Lily, who expressed her happiness with my change to the fullest.

I recall the end of the night, when Lily and I met back up and danced in the glowing light of the bonfire. We bobbed our heads and swayed our hips to the music, something that we only ever did in the quiet of our bedrooms. We had so much fun. Then when the last song played, everyone gathered around the fire and danced together under the stars. When our classmates left to go home, I stood near the house, waiting for Lily to pull the car around. It was in that moment when Hunter Winston approached me and whispered, "I forgot to tell you how beautiful you look tonight." He walked away and climbed into his friend's truck, flashing me one last dazzling smile before pulling away into the night.

I was stunned by his casual use of the word. Beautiful was a word used to describe girls who had confidence in themselves, who were given sideways glances wherever they went; girls who had perfect skin, perfect hair, perfect lives. Lily was one of those girls, just as Kelby Blackwood had been. Beautiful had never been a part of the vocabulary used to describe someone like me.

As I lay in bed the morning after possibly the greatest night of my life, I can't help but laugh at myself. For years I had wished that my life would turn around, so why was I suddenly skeptical when it happened? I shake my head, sitting up to climb out of bed.

I slide on my slippers and head downstairs. As I round the corner into the kitchen, I feel relieved. I am sure my parents are going to question why I am smiling at such an early hour, and I am excited to tell them why. They will be proud of me for finally letting loose, for finally having fun and enjoying myself.

When I make it to the kitchen, my father is at his usual spot at the kitchen table, his legs crossed and his hand wound in the handle of a steaming coffee mug. He is wearing the beige suit that my mother bought him for Christmas last year. I remember how he had opened the gift, held the suit in front of him, and pretended to love it although he later told me that the color was hideous. I am almost positive that my mother still thinks that he loves it, which is why he wears it to work once or twice a week.

My mother stands at the stove, flipping pancakes, until she hears me enter the room. She turns to look at me with a stunned expression as my father slowly lowers the coffee mug from his lips. Both pairs of eyes are directed at me.

"Sidney, sweetie," my mother says quietly, moving her pan to a cold burner on the stove. She wipes her hands on a dish towel and slowly approaches me.

I stood in the doorway, grinning from ear to ear. When my mother's hand reaches for my own, confusion taking over her features, I can't help but laugh. "Mom," I say between my giggles--it feels so good to laugh, "I'm fine."

She clutches my fragile fingers, her green-grey eyes searching my face for answers. Her hair is pulled into a tight bun, the creases by her eyes deeper than normal. She is beautiful in an unconventional type of way that has always made me wonder why I wasn't. And in that moment, I see a look in her eyes that I had not seen in a very long time: relief.

"Why so happy, honey?" my father asks from the table.

I shrug, unable to explain once I have the chance. There are not enough words to describe the years of loneliness and isolation I made up for in one night, though I am determined to try. I open my mouth to spill the details, and then make the split-decision to keep those memories to myself.