Ugly is Beautiful By: Audrey B. Holley

Chapter 7

The image of a lanky body moving rapidly in my direction, makes me think he's finally arrived. Onlookers are shoved aside as he separates from them. His jaw is clenched and his fists remain at his sides.

"What is your problem!" He yells, eyes blazing.

"That's none of your business."

"Everyday you bruise my friend, from now on I'm going to make it my business!" By now he's all in her face, obviously fighting the urge to pound her to a state of senselessness. 

"I'm sorry she has to be so ugly!" Mindy hollers.

"She isn't ugly!" He spits out the words in rage.

"Why do you care? Do you like her or something?"

He doesn't answer. Instead, he helps me up, and walks me to the nurse.

When given permission to, he calls his brother and we are driven to my home. Jonhy drops us off and when we hop out, Johny says, "Gaven wait." He murmurs something to him, and gives him a knowing look.

"OK." I hear Gaven say, but a nervous edge is hinted in his voice. Then the sound of the old truck speeds away. Walking in the front door, my feet stumble, but Gaven steady's me.

My exhausted body sinks into the relaxing couch.

"I feel so dizzy." I tell him. He sits next to me, and our sides lean into each other. Feelings that I've been experiencing around him since the first day we met seem to surface once again. But a new emotion comes up like vomit, and a bitter taste envelopes my throat. I label the disgusting emotion as rage.

"Why?" I mumble. "Why? Why?" My voice rises. I take a dropping to my knees, and pound angrily and frustratingly on the blue carpet. "It isn't fair!" My fingers dig into my hair and yank, no matter how much it hurts. There will always be pain.

"Flora, stop it." He sounds so soothing, it kills me inside.

I glare. "You don't understand! It isn't fair! What about my happiness? Do I get any?" I punch the floor until my fists throb and feel bruised. Then I come to a closing because the hitting does no good, but only causes destruction to my swelling knuckles.

"You done?" He asks.

I shrug.

He walks over to me and brings me to my feet gently. This moment that plays out before me is like an unfolding love scene from a movie; it seems right, just to be in his arms. It's what I've been longing for since the day we met. He gazes down into my eyes all the while his thumb caresses my cheek.

"Flora," he says, "You're so beautiful."

"You sure about that?"

He grins flirtatiously, and his arms lure me closer. "Yes." He whispers. Time seems to take a stand still, and we are the only people left in the world. His lips hover over mine as if he's waiting for me to make the first approach. Hesitantly, I give him a quick kiss.

At the moment my lips greet his to receive my very first kiss, I recall a fuzzy memory. Something about a boy and blood. But it disappears when I pull away abruptly, and turn from him so that he can't witness my expression.

"Flora." He speaks my name. And I hint a smile somewhere within the sound of his voice. He faces me toward him, and then with a gentle hand placed upon my jaw, he lifts my chin, dips his head low, and plants a deep lingering kiss on me.

His lips part open as he collides himself into me more, pressing his broadly developed body into my own. I have never been so close to a man, and this whole situation springs up emotions that have to do with sexuality and love.