After spending an embarrassing amount of time feeling sorry for myself I stomped into the bathroom to tidy myself up. Jake's family are one of the only people I know that still have mirrors in there bathroom. looking at my reflection I can't help but think how different it was only 6 short months ago. How can people be okay with the fact that they don't know what they look like? I know that a lot of people get family paintings done once a year now, but I would hate to not be able to check whenever I wanted. I reach out and touch the mirror preparing myself for the cold hard texture of the glass but instead it feels warm and soft, like my hand.
"You're beautiful." At the sound of a voice behind me I jump. Michael.
"I didn't see you come in." Of course not. How could I? He doesn't have a reflection. Wait a minute. Did he say I was beautiful?
"Of course not." He laughs and steps closer to me. He grabs a curl of my hair and looks at it. I expect him to tuck it behind my ear but he doesn't, he just studies it.
"Tacccoooooooooooooo's" Jake runs past the bathroom with a pot on his head. Michael cocks his eyebrow confused.
"It's kind of a tradition. I Don't know." I shrug, but I do know.
The first time I came over to visit I was so nervous that I thought I would vomit. I hadn't had many friends before and I was allowed to go with my parents when they went to there friends houses so I was extremely nervous. When we sat down for dinner I was physically shaking. In my house, dinner was a time for quite conversations had by adults only and even the slightest noise or mistake would get you in trouble for hours. I was so nervous that I managed to drop my plate of taco's on the floor. I immediately burst into tears horrified that they would send me home and never let me play with Jake again. Instead, momma dropped her plate on the floor to, then Jake's dad, then Jake tipped the pot of mince upside down and put it on his head. Ever since then it's been a family tradition that whenever we have taco's Jake runs threw the house with the pot on his head to announce that dinner is ready.
"Weird." Michael says as he follows me downstairs. I pretend to not take offence.
