The Metamorphosis Diaries

Chapter 6 - Ready For Comp

Chapter 6

So Arden was mad...

Her first option was to attempt to give me the silent treatment, but Arden had a dinner coming up with her family and desperately needed a professional to do her makeup.

So she asked me.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me," she repeated as I filled in her naturally bleach-colored eyebrows.

"I get it, you're mad, but I couldn't tell anyone! Could you imagine what that would do for my reputation?" The both of us burst out laughing. "I just wanted to have fun and be stress free. No one in my business, no needing to act like I was someone else, and if it didn't work out, it would be easy to shrug off!"

Arden nodded, causing my hand to shake and I drew a light brown line across her forehead.

"Perfect, I think I'm done. #ReadyForComp," I joked.

Note. Ready For Comp is something dancers say when they first have trouble with choreography to joke about how 'sarcastically' ready the dance is to be competed with.

Arden clicked her tongue and held up the 'ok perfect' sign with her fingers.

"I can't believe you're sleeping with the enemy. Did you know he posted a barber pic of my hair to twitter and compared it to Future's album cover?"

"Hey, that album is fire!"

Arden was not amused with my attempt at lightheartedness. Arden usually wasn't amused with most of what goes on in the world. She was my best friend and I loved her, but how could you tell your best friend that she's turning into an angsty hipster teen with 'Tumblr Model' on her resume that's slowly morphing into a feminazi that refuses to shave her armpits?

"I think you're turning into an angsty hipster teen with 'Tumblr Model' on their resume that's slowly morphing into a feminazi that refuses to shave their armpits."

"Accurate, though," she laughed.

My attempts were not being taken seriously. I could always try when she was ACTUALLY mad at me. Maybe then she'd see my concern.

If becoming a radical feminist is what would make Arden happy, then I'd be happy for her. Arden doesn't get to have a lot of extraordinary things in her life. She had a caring family and trustworthy friends, but I could see in her that she always felt like a side character to her own story. I know she finds encouragement and empowerment in feminism, and I wouldn't dream of taking that from her. As long as she is, number one, aware of the transformation, and number two, not shoving her values down my throat.

Maybe feminism was Arden's metamorphosis, like mine was appearance. The metamorphosis is less about change and more about growth, and how we take our insecurities and find something we're passionate about to overshadow how we feel about them.

"I don't know what is going to happen between me and Darren, and whether or not it really means something to me. He gives me butterflies, he makes me laugh, he's nice to me, but I can't fall in love with jokes and compliments, you know?"

"Honestly I really don't since I'm single AF."

"But you know what I mean! I guess this is just fun right now, it's just high school. We're like, openly and exclusively hooking up and that's it." I finished up with eyebrows and started on her mascara. Better Than Sex by Too Faced was the reason I existed, and with my experiences with sex thus far, the title did not lie.

"So how long have you guys been hanging out?" she asked, sounding like she was really trying to make an effort to understand.

"Since semi."

"WHAT!" And I was back to the drawing board.

After I was done at Arden's, Darren came and picked me up. I had told my parents I was staying at Arden's until late because I knew they would more than disapprove of me dating the guy who destroyed me throughout grade school.

Maybe even I disapproved of it.

"You look good," Darren said as he drove us to a well-known Chinese restaurant that I had already forgotten the name of.

"Thanks," I gave him a small smile.

He placed his unoccupied hand on my leg, and it felt so uncomfortable. Not like a violation, not awkward, but like he was forcing himself to put it there like clockwork, like it was a rule. I didn't know how to react to it being awkwardly stretched over the cup holders between us, so I settled on putting my own hand over his and wrapping my fingers around his palm.

I sighed loudly. "I don't think I've ever been to this restaurant before. Is Chinese food, like, your staple?"

"My what?" Darren laughed and twisted his face in confusion.

"Your staple! Your must have! The thing that if you could only eat one thing for the rest of your life, then that is what you would choose," I exclaimed.

"Then Chinese isn't a staple, it's like, a right of passage or something."

"A right of passage is a ceremony or checkpoint in life that marks transitioning from one stage to another," I nerded.

"Alright miss Dictionary! Then what would you call something that everyone likes because it literally breathes air into their lungs and gives them a reason to live."

Love. "Food."