The Bird That Couldn't Sing (GBFF)

Chapter 18 - Sang

"Almost finished," Gabriel urges, gently dragging the straightener wrapped with my hair down, creating loose curls in its wake. "Oy! Now you can look."

I turn around to look at the mirror, spotting my reflection. I see a girl with long, wavy blonde hair to frame her face. Pale skin. Button nose. Full lips. Green eyes. All is the same, except her eyes don't look as haunted or dull. They look bright, almost... happy.

This can't be me. This girl, she looks almost... pretty. Nope, definitely not me. My shoulders slump a little.

"Why do you look so glum? Oh my God! Did I do a terrible job? I'm so sorry! I can redo it..." Gabriel looks so torn, and I finally realize something when looking into his eyes. They aren't sad like mine, but they hold the remnants of a dark past. Maybe I'm not the only one to know pain. Maybe meanie does, too. Maybe they all do. Maybe I'm really not alone, just like they keep trying to convince me. A smile breaks across my face and meanie stops his rambling, something I've noticed he does when he's nervous.

I shake my head furiously and stand from my chair, rushing to hug him. My head makes it to his chest, as he's still about a head taller than me. He smells like freshly cut grass and apples, a combination I would've never thought of but it's very refreshing. He instantly wraps his arms around me and the tingles I'd felt while he was washing my hair earlier return, sending shockwaves up my spine and to my heart. It thumps wildly, and if I'm not mistaken, his is as well.

It feels just like the others' and I's brief touches and I don't fight it this time. I welcome it with, quite literally, open arms and revel in the feeling it brings me: comfort and warmth and joy. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe that girl in the mirror really was me and she is, in fact, happy. Maybe they were my happiness all along. We are one in the same, and we are happy.

I pull back, much to both of our dismays, and stand on my tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek, causing a blush to rise from where my lips met his skin.

I don't even have to say it because he already knows, just like the others always seem to know, too. Thank you.

"It was nothing, Trouble. It was actually fun. So thank you."

My hair, even though barely so, feels lighter. He'd trimmed it just a tad, not enough to be noticable if any member of my family were to actually notice me for once other than to physically or verbally assault me. There's a wave to it, and it looks brighter, much like my eyes in that respect. It's softer, too. A lot softer, actually, making me wonder just what kind of shampoo and conditioner he used on it. I step back a bit further, needing some distance so as to not hug him again. That would probably be weird. Or do friends normally do that? I'm still new to this kind of stuff.

Out of curiosity, I ask, "What shampoo did you use? It's so good. My hair is really soft and smells amazing."

His blush deepens but his smile widens. "I made it, actually."

My eyes almost bug out of my head.
"Really? That's so cool, meanie. Can you teach me?"

He laughs. "Of course I will, trouble." He stops for a moment and instead of speaking, he signs, "It would be an absolute pleasure."

My smile is so big right now, I'm afraid my face will split in two. All I can do right now is stare into his crystal blue eyes in wonderment, because for the first time in my life, someone understands me. Two someones, actually. And I have six boys who genuinely care enough about me to want to understand me. Not just out of convenience for them, but for me and because they see me as one of them--as a friend. And I was right before; right now, I'm truly happy for the first time in my life. This is being locked away in my vault of memories, for I never want to forget this moment for as long as my miserable life goes on.