What You Know Is True

Chapter One

It's kind of hard to charm someone when you're ugly.

Yeah, yeah, "Everyone's beautiful, just because they're so-called gorgeous doesn't mean you're not, blah blah blah." I'm a 17-year-old guy. That does nothing for me.

I've tried telling myself I look better than most and that St. Jhudiel (the saint's whose day I was born under) would take pity on me and not make me end up alone in life. I'd look better if it weren't for these little scars on my face and this hook nose I inherited from my dad. It also doesn't help that I'm tall with these gawky limbs and I hunch over a lot. As Chasha's grandmother once told her, I look like a "no-good hoodlum." Actually, all those things do help because it meant people know not to mess with me. But at the same time I'm not a bully, so I shouldn't look as bad as I do but I do.

Got that?

Anyway, the employee, some bored-looking Asian girl, was staring at me confusingly while I had my hands in my pockets. I hoped she hadn't seen me put these skullcandy earbuds in my pocket. Usually I'm better at this. You can't just stick things in your pocket and go. There's a process you have to do, but I've been slugging it lately and acting on autopilot. I see something nice, I take it.

"Hey." I've been told I have a nice smile. My ex girlfriend said I looked good when I smiled, calmer. I hoped – Melanie, her badge read – thought so too. "How are you?"

"Uh, good?" she droned, smiling slightly and showing off green braces. It made her look 5 years younger. "Can I help you?"

"Nah," I said, stepping a bit closer to her casually. Her shoulders straightened and she took on a guarded pose. I thought I spied a coming blush on her face. Either she was flattered or annoyed. "My brother's birthday is coming up, and I was looking for some headphones for him. But none of these are his style."

"Oh. How old he'll be?"

"15." Been that age since March.

Melanie's shoulders relaxed and she put her hands on her hips, smiling more bravely. "Oh, cool. We have a larger selection on our website if you wanna check that out."

I rubbed the back of my neck, stared a little more into her eyes, and began walking away.

"Thanks – I'll do that."

And then you calmly, smoothly, walk out the door. Simple as that, though you may go home with sweaty armpits, unless you're me.

What I liked about living in Westport was everything was within walking distance. For the most part anyway, or maybe I just like walking. Mama claimed that's why I'm so skinny. I told her Louie, my brother, should start walking then and she bopped me on my head.

Once I was a good distance away from the store I took out the earbuds: neon green with gold trimmings. I discarded the package into a nearby trashcan and plugged them into my iPod, but then I just stuffed them both back into my pocket. The only time I ever had my music in was when I was riding in a car or bored at school and the teachers don't see. I feel like having something in your ears while you're outside and it's silent and the atmosphere's nice is disrespectful. Can't say the world isn't beautiful when you're too distracted to see when it is.

Dallas Medina: A hoodlum and a sap.

It was ten minutes before I reached Dawn Avenue and turned onto my block. I passed by Mrs. Dempsey's home and her lawn was being overtaken by her hundred kids playing out front. She was there too, sunbathing. She waved at me and I sheepishly waved back. I liked it here. Most everyone here had more money than us and tended to flaunt it to one another, but they were cool. Sometimes though I wished I lived back at my old house, in my old neighborhood.