What You Don't See

Disguises and Surprises

I chucked the fifth magazine onto the floor and picked up the unread Vogue issue sitting on the top of the stack of other fashion magazines I picked up on my way home. I've spent the past two hours memorizing everything about them. After I stopped crying like it was the end of the world I realized that being on the guys soccer team was my biggest problem to begin with. There were only a few more games until the championship, and I was dead set on walking into Coach Taylor's office the next day to turn in my jersey for the season.

I heard a soft knock on my door and knew it wasn't Jake who had come knocking on my door at least fifteen times. Every time I shooed him away, but considering I knew from the knock that it was my mom I sighed and got up off my bed to open the door. I was hoping she was there to bring me dinner because I was incredibly hungry. Sure enough, as I slowly opened the door, there she stood with a bowl of spaghetti.

"Not so fast." She warned, pulling the steaming bowl of food from my reach. "Let me in so we can talk."

I grumbled along with my stomach, but reluctantly, pushed the door open further to let her in. Once she set my dinner on my dresser, she walked over to my bed and sat next to me.

"So, are you going to tell me what's going on?" She rose on eyebrow at me.

"What do you mean?" I played dumb, not really wanting to talk about it.

"You know what I mean Brooke." She said rather sternly, successfully frightening me. "What's with these changes? You're acting differently, dressing differently..." She trailed off, using her hand to gesture to the provocative clothing scattered across my bedroom floor. A pair of scissors and scraps of cloth littered around our feet.

I sighed and looked at the blank wall in front of me. "I don't want to talk about this, mom."

She just stubbornly continued to stare at me, not accepting my answer.

"It's nothing, mom" I assured her, "I just needed a change."

"This is about a boy isn't it?" She stared at me expectedly. "Or more specifically Chase Archer."

I threw my head back and groaned. "Mom-"

"Brooke, I'm not stupid. You're being ridiculous. If he doesn't share the same feelings about you, there is no reason to change who you are. You're a wonderful person, and you should be extremely proud of how talented and beautiful you are. The material things don't matter anyway." I just stared at the wall until she continued. "You know that this isn't you, and there isn't anything wrong with that."

"Clearly it is, mom. Guys don't even look twice at me." I laid my back down on the bed, looking up towards the ceiling.

"I find that hard to believe, Brooke." She said quietly and sighed heavily. "I know it doesn't mean much coming from me, but you're a very beautiful girl Brooke. Stop worrying about those stupid boys you go to school with, when you grow up, you'll learn they never mattered anyway." She swiveled her body towards me and paused, allowing me to say something. I didn't. "But... If you think this will make you happy, then you know I'll always support you." She finished.

I tilted my head to finally look her in the eyes. I appreciated her advice, but she was right, this is what I think will make me happier. I refuse to continue to be overlooked and judged by everyone for how I dress. Besides, what's wrong with a slight style change? Okay, yeah, maybe it was a little more than a slight change, but I wasn't hurting anyone, including myself, so what's the big deal?

Before I could respond, Jake was standing in the doorway, knocking on the open door to my bedroom.

"I'll let you two talk." She said, getting up and quickly squeezing passed him out into the hallway.