ETHEREAL

CHAPTER 27

Today is my first day of being a Personal Stylist, rather than just a regular stylist, at Nordstrom. The pay and commission rate is the same, but now, there is an increased pressure for me to sell from all of the departments. The position is coveted, as there are only a few Personal Stylists per Nordstrom store. I can easily cover up my bruised and cut lips with concealer and lipstick, although it stings deeply especially as it seeps into the deep gash, but there is nothing that I can do for how my lip is swollen and misshapen on one side. When I look in the mirror, it feels like Justin is laughing back at me. Sighing, I hope that no one notices at work. Of course, everyone notices. I continually hear shocked cries of "Skye, what happened to you?! Where is Justin? He's always with you,"  or similar phrases from my coworkers. I brush them off with the simple answer, "He busted my lip open and I'm not friends with him, anymore." My coworkers are speechless, and I dive into my workload, which helps to keep my mind off of his egregious betrayal. I texted my other friends about what happened, and degradingly, they actually think that Justin and I will just make up and be best friends forever. It feels like another demeaning slap in the face. My phone vibrates with a text from Damien. I feel like a traumatic, codependent, and addictive bond is knitting between us, as we speak. I feel so foolish and stupid to have been tricked and betrayed by someone that I thought was my friend, again.

Damien: Heyyyy, how are you today?

Me: my face hurts and it is embarrassing to have everyone asking about it, and on top of that, have 99% of my friends minimize what happened to me because they think that I will just forgive him and we'll be friends again, and he can go back to being an opportunistic leech again

Damien: what Justin did was unforgivable. I would never hit a woman. It was so messed up, especially after what your family did for him, and how you helped him. I hope your face feels better =(

Me: thanks

Damien: it made me realize how you are everything that I want, and this proves that we are the only people that can get each other, like understand each other

My insides melt at reading that I am what Damien wants - but, does he? Will he change himself for me; for us? I don't exactly think that people ever change. Does anyone understand me? I would like to think that Damien does, but I doubt it. He barely defended me in the car against Justin's verbal onslaught and violent, aggressive tirades. I feel like I can't trust anyone, but I want to trust Damien, so badly.

Me: that makes me happy.. so, am I your girlfriend now?

Damien: meet me outside 

Do I want that? I guess I have always wanted that, and I feel like I should give us a try. What more do I have to lose? Hopefully not more of myself. I always feel a foolish, excited giddiness that I shouldn't feel when I am about to see Damien. I put my phone in my pocket, and walk to meet him outside of Nordstrom. He is seemingly posing, with his back against the wall, with one leg on it and he has a lit cigarette in his hands. He has on his black, ripped-up and fitted skinny jeans tucked into his red and black Supras, with a light grey zip-up hoodie.  He reminds me of the quintessential, epitome of a rebel without a cause; my James Dean - complete with a careless, brooding, drunken and apathetic attitude.

He mischievously smirks at me, and I ask, "So, is this our anniversary date, now?" He shakes his head and says in his low, syrupy voice, "No, I don't wanna have to get you a gift every year." I burst out laughing. "How romantic," I point out and he shrugs. My blissful mood drops, as I realize that he is completely serious. I don't care about gifts, but is this a real relationship if we don't even have a concrete start date, like everyone else? But, I guess, I have never felt like everyone else. I have always felt so "other," like I don't belong here, and I'm treated that way, also. Will he take this relationship seriously, though? I guess that remains to be seen, most likely at my expense.