What She Said

Chapter 3

I run my fingers over the metallic beads and black mesh that has creased from the brown stool I sit on in the front of a vanity. I am aware of how distorted my face looks in the mirror, and even more so of how poignant it must look to the naked eye. My skin is pale, and the dress I don seems baggier than I remember it being. Nothing, however, strikes me more than my cheek bones. I used to hound over gorgeous models in Vogue, praying for cheekbones as pronounced as theirs. I would do jaw exercises constantly, hoping to obtain the high-fashion shallow cheeks that were dubbed as beautiful. I definitely achieved what I used to want, but I look sickly and age. There is a mile long difference between myself and the models.

"Hey, C, do you have that berry colored lipstick I gave you for Christmas?" Red is leaning against the door frame, a genuinely quizzical look on her face. She's wearing my purple dress.

The one I wore to Addie's wedding. The one Teddy zipped up. The one my mother chastised me for getting dirty because I had been crying for Teddy on that road.

"I don't think that color will look good with that dress. Maybe you should try something lighter." I suggest, swallowing the memories before it becomes too hard to.

"You're probably right. Perhaps that pale pink?"

"Yeah, that will look good."

"Okay!" She begins to walk away, but stops herself. "Oh, and C? You look beautiful."

I don't think I have ever cried harder.

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The party was not my typical scene, nor was it Red's. For one thing, there was no alcohol. There were no sweaty, drunken teenagers grinding against one another on a makeshift dance floor. You couldn't hear moans coming out from under bedroom doors. On the opposite side of the spectrum, there was no forced or petty conversation with men as old as my father, and I didn't have to worry about my posture or if my makeup was immaculate.

The party was, more than anything else, freeing.

We danced to music by Louis Armstrong, then Beyoncé, then Etta James back to back to back and it was the strangest, most wonderful thing I have ever experienced. We drank fruit juice mixed with club soda and acted like little kids pretending to be adults. Collin even have me a bouquet of daisies and lavender, saying that a friend of mine told him that lavender is my favorite.

After the last song escaped from the bands' trumpets, Red and I walked home with our heels in our hands. Everything was so clear, and the memories felt fresh. I weaved a sprig of lavender through my hair, savoring the scent that trailed behind it.

"When did you tell Collin that lavender is my favorite flower?" I asked, studying what remained of my bouquet.

"I don't think I ever did, why?" I tried to tell if she was joking with me, but her face read otherwise.

"He said that a friend of mine told him."

"The only person besides yourself that Collin could have learned that from is me."

"Then how did he know?"

"Uh...C?" Red spoke with a cautious edge to her voice.

"Hm?"

"I just...be open to what I'm about to say, okay?" She held my hand, stopping me from walking.

"What is it?"

"Do you think Teddy could have told Collin?"

I pulled my hand away from hers and continued to walk. "Red, come on. That's not funny and you know it."

"I'm serious!" She grabbed my arm, making me drop my flowers onto the grass in the process. "What if he said something in a dream, or wrote a letter?"

"So, what? Teddy just walked up to Collin on the street, despite the fact that he's dead, and said 'By the way, my ex girlfriend's a big fan of lavender.'"

"Oh, come on Cleo, you're being cynical-"

"I'm not Cleo anymore! Don't you get it? To Teddy I was Cleo, the supposedly perfect girlfriend who was dying of cancer. To Collin I'm Isis-"

"The supposedly perfect girlfriend who is still dying of cancer. God, when are you going to stop lying to yourself? It's like you're living in a never ending dream world that you're dragging everyone else into. Well here's an idea: it's time to wake up."

"Oh, so the whole 'my boyfriend got shot in a mall and I have cancer' thing sounds like a dream to you?"

"Oh my God, Cleo! Will you get over yourself? When Teddy died in that damn mall, you didn't just lose your boyfriend."

"I know what I lost."

"No, you don't, because you still think you're the only person who lost someone." She took a step closer to me, her expression unreadable. "When you lost your boyfriend, I lost my best friend."