Masks

Masks - Chp 15

“Okay Steph, you can do this. You just walk right into….” I glanced up catching the eye of a bunch of girls only a few feet in front of me, just inside the gate “hell.” I muttered bitterly to myself as I laid eyes of them giggling and gossiping as the scrutinized me. It wasn’t any riddle as to who was the center of that conversation.

My hand slowly slid up the side of my neck to end up tugging on my hair, my hair that was tugged up into a pony tail. I gulped as I tugged on the end of my hair tied up, on the top of my head, my hair pulled all back and away from my face, my eyes. I couldn’t even remember the last time I had my hair up and out of my eyes, even in photos I was under the age of five. I tugged and fidgeted on my hair even more and greater, my hands itched to the point it was painful with the urge to untie my hair and let my hair fall back in my eyes, keep the drapes shut to the new world.

It was such a petty thing, wearing my hair up and out of my eyes and yet my stomach was churning, butterflies soaring and my throat constricting. Every second that ticked by I argued with myself, fighting all that was within me that I looked fine, that it’d be okay, that no one that didn’t matter would notice. How could such a thing be such a big deal? How could such a small thing represent so much? It was like I was finally opening my eyes to the wide world around me, the reality of life.

On my hundredth pep talk my words still hadn’t even give me the balls to step through that gates and simply go to school. Was I mental, insane? I already had people gossiping and staring at me with wide eyes after Georgie and now with Gav’s interest in me, suddenly I was the focus. That was terrifying as it is, but now I had to face them with no hair to hide behind? That’s like someone going into battle with no armor; suicide.

I took another shaky breath as I stepped onto the school grounds, the back of my neck straining under the weight of fear and paranoia. Did it make me completely weak that I felt as if the ground was going to fall out beneath me? Would wearing my hair up cause drama, make things worse? Maybe by wearing my hair up and acting confident it would make others think of me as bold and rude for it just after Georgie’s death, especially since I discovered her?

I shook my head, trying to rattle all the dread from my bones. I tried breaking down those doubts and that voice, trying to rid it as it tried everything in its might to go back and play life the safe way. If I just stuck to how I’ve always been, stuck to what I knew and what was safe than it’d be okay, if I did that than there’d be no worries about change and the reaction of those around me. But if I didn’t change, if I never open myself up to Gavin or anybody else would I ever have a chance with Gav?

I already knew that answer; you couldn’t have any relationship – a meaningful and lasting relationship – if you weren’t honest and opened. I was doing this for Gavin, but not only for him but also for me. If I wanted to know if I had a chance with Gav – and I did, I desired it so badly – than I needed to do this, I needed to see. And if I find out I don’t have a chance with Gav – which deep down I knew was a possibility – at least I knew I tried, and at least it’d be more easy to open up to the next guy that walked by and captured my heart.

I walked into the grounds with a little more determination in my step. I walked through the hall, my neck itching and straining to lower but I kept my head high, my fingers constantly tugging and playing with my hair as I walked over to my school’s locker. More than ever did I want a mirror to check my appearance like those vapid girls you see in the movies...

“Um, I’m sorry, but I’m fairly certain that this locker belongs to my best friend.” a teasing, lazily voice came from the other side of my locker door “You may know her actually, her names Steph? Super shy gal than the next second she’s a crazy Muppet.”