KissnTell

Chapter 5

WTF, GOD?!

Vaughn

I'm never speechless. Seriously. I'm a nervous talker. I babble on at the most inappropriate times, like in class, or at church. I constantly steer conversations back to myself. I interrupt people in the middle of a thought. And I always have an opinion, which I always voice, no matter how dumb or irrelevant it seems. To me, silence has always been something that must be filled. It's too bland. Maybe it's too lonely or something. Whatever.

That night, the dreaded night of Xander's party, was the first time I truly had nothing to say. I mean, what could I say? What word adequately describes the piercing humiliation of having Xander Carrington smell your shit? Not just smell: hear, experience. Okay, now take that and throw in the fact that I barfed all over his perfect forearm. And there you are.

I felt physically immobilized, as if all the power in my body was shutting off, organ by organ, piece by piece. This sounds dramatic, but whatever, it was true, truer than anything else I'd ever felt: I wanted to die. My life was over. Fuck my parents. They're good people, but they embarrassed the hell out of me most of the time. Fuck my brother. Matty. That idiot. All he ever did was loaf around and play video games and grunt periodically. Fuck Cranbrook Academy and everyone in it, everyone ever associated with it. Fuck the land it was built on.

Fuck Anais. I know how cold that sounds, but I was thinking it. Even as she ushered me to the toilet, even as she comforted me and told me I had to be strong. Because she told me I had to be strong. I couldn't. I just couldn't be strong. I had nothing left.

All I could do was stare at the sandy sidewalk below me. I could see each grain. I felt the sand on my skin, scratching my Skintimate-smooth kneecaps. I wanted to disappear into the fabric of that street by some freak paranormal accident, vanishing from life as I knew it, and just lie there, silent, immobilized, left alone forever, or at least until Xander stepped on my face while walking the family dog.

Anais quietly wiped tears from my cheeks. Her mouth was all twisted up and determined; she was biting her lip like she did when she was trying to finish up a chore, or study for a test. I sniffled. There was obviously snot oozing from my nostril, which she politely ignored. Our eyes met. She smiled sadly, but still hopeful. For all the smack I talked about Anais behind her back, for all the times I silently cursed her for being pessimistic, lame, and generally no fun, here she was, smiling in the face of epic humiliation, and I knew it was for my sake and my sake alone. She licked the tip of her thumb and smeared my eyebrows into place. And suddenly, despite the misery coursing through me, I felt completely loved. And I wanted to cry all over again, because I didn't deserve her.

"I don't deserve you," I sputtered. At that point I had pretty much accepted my complete loss of control over my bodily fluids, so I felt no shame when Anais discreetly wiped my saliva droplets from her chin.

She smiled. "I know," she said. I punched her.

She laughed. "My mom will be here any minute," she said.

I nodded.

We were silent again.

Anais liked silence. On the bus, she'd get all introspective and zen-like. I, on the other hand, behaved like a caged animal in heat after about five minutes of silence in any enclosed space. The thing is, when nothing's going on around me, when all's silent and boring, I get to thinking about my life, which pretty much just makes me sad. All the times I've ever humiliated myself rotate through my brain like a cruel slideshow. Oh, look: there's me during the first week of Biology with Xander, when I wore that low-cut shirt to impress him and Odette had asked if I was a boy or a girl; and there's me spilling my guts to Stella on the lawn after she told me she thought Xander and I would make a really cute couple—only to spread a rumor all over school that I'm a hermaphrodite. And there I am having extreme diarrhea at Xander's house to a heckling chorus of Cranbrook's most popular cast of characters.

It was Saturday night and we were sitting on an empty sidewalk in Beverly Hills, and my life was officially over. There was no way I was going back to that school, to those people who had a firsthand account of one of my grossest bowel movements of all time. I needed a plan. I could transfer, but that would take time. I might be able to play sick in the meantime. Could I pay someone with mono to make out with me? Not exactly how I envisioned my first kiss, but these were desperate times. And it wasn't like it was ever going to happen the way I had dreamed of.

I turned to Anais, eyes searching for signs of Pam's Volvo. "Do you ever think about your first kiss?" I asked.

She frowned. "I think we both know I haven't had the pleasure yet," she said quietly, turning back to the road where an SUV full of attractive twenty-somethings settled at a stop sign, blaring hip-hop from their shiny windows.

"I mean, the one you want to have," I urged.

Anais frowned, shook her head. "I guess I haven't met anyone worth kissing yet," she said simply.

I sighed. "I always thought it would be Xander," I muttered.

Anais flashed me a look of disgust. "Seriously?" she asked.

I nodded numbly. It was so stupid, but for some reason I needed to purge myself of that dream right then and there, on the sidewalk with Anais, a stone's throw away from my dream man's mansion.

She shifted in her seat to face me. "How? How did you think that would ever happen?" she asked, stunned. Then she must have caught a glimpse of the deep well of despair behind my eyes and added softly, "Sorry."

I shook my head. "I kind of pictured we'd be at a dance, like Winter Formal or something," I said. "Someplace, some school event where we both could be and it wouldn't be weird or anything." Anais nodded. "I was thinking a dance since then I'd be all dressed up," I continued. "Maybe I'd get my makeup professionally done at Sephora, I don't know. I just imagined myself looking my best, but still looking like me, you know?"

"Like in She's Out of Control when Tony Danza's daughter gets her glasses and braces off and is suddenly totally gorgeous, but it kind of makes you feel shallow since clearly she's been gorgeous all along?"

"Exactly!" I exclaimed, banging my fist on the ground. "I just thought, because I looked kind of different he'd notice me, or he'd see me differently or something."

I held my breath, choking up. Anais leaned forward and touched my cheek. I started to cry.

"Oh, Vaughn," she murmured sadly. "Please don't."

Maybe it was the thought of Xander looking at me for once like I was something to be looked at. Maybe it was the realization that this little dream of mine would never, ever come true. Or maybe it just hit me how pathetic even wanting him was in the first place. Him, Xander, the guy who made snide comments about my less-than-Playboy-worthy anatomy. The guy who laughed in my face when I tried to be nice or helpful. The guy who invited me to a party just to poison my drink. This was what I dreamed about? This was what I aspired to?

I wiped my eyes as Pam finally pulled up, her face seeped in concern.

"Here she is. You okay?" Anais asked, stroking my hair as I sniffled back even more snot.

I shook my head. "Absolutely not," I said, laughing bitterly. Anais smiled sadly and helped me up.

"Right," she said softly.

Pam unlocked the doors and we climbed in; Anais in front and me curled in the back, clutching my sides like the molecules would scatter at any moment, fleeing my reject of a body forever. I won't lie, a small part of me just wanted to let them go.

Run. Get out now. Save yourselves.