She's A Rainbow

13. so when he sees me

When I got to school this morning, I had my eye on one target. The girl on his story. I asked people what school she went to, and coincidentally, it's ours! And then I asked what period of lunch she was in, and also coincidentally, it's mine!

I painstakingly waited and waited, tapping my foot in every class before fourth period lunch.

Once the bell rings, I storm out the room and down the stairs. I burst open the doors to lunchroom and spot her leaving the line. Looking like a bootleg version of Kaori from Your Lie in April. I approach her.

"I need to talk to you." I start.

"Oh, hi, you're Iris, right? I recognized you from my bio class last year. Okay! What's up?" She replies in an innocent tone.

"You hung out with him. I can see the hickeys on your neck." I point out.

She immediately covers the spot and rubs her neck, her face turning beet red. "It's nothing. I'm a violinist—I get hickeys all the time, I thought you would know that for some reason."

"I play the piano, not the violin." I coldly correct her.

"But even if they were from him, why does it matter?"

"I don't care if they were from him. You hung out with him regardless."

"Yeah, but why do you care?"

"I—"

Unwanted tears weld in my eyes for some reason. I can feel my throat slowly closing in.

"Iris? What's wrong?"

"I told him I loved him just thirty minutes before he hung out with you..." I admit before breaking out into a total, embarrassing sob.

"Oh...oh, Iris. I'm so sorry." She responds in a nice tone, which makes it so much worse.

I quickly wipe the cold snot dripping down my nostrils with my sleeve.

"I'm sorry— I don't even know why I'm crying. But...it's just such bullshit."

"I know, it sucks getting rejected—"

"How would you know?" I immediately rebut.

"What do you mean?"

"How would you know what it feels like?" I repeat.

"What— are you serious? Of course I know what it feels like!"

"No, you don't. Your skin color and facial features don't have to come into play."

"What are you implying? That he likes me because I'm white? Just because I'm white it doesn't make my life any easier."

"Bitch, please. You're a skinny, white, and blonde violin player. It obviously doesn't make it harder."

"That's true. But...girl, what do you want me to do? I can't control the way he feels. I like him, too. And come on, most of the guys I know LOVE Asian girls."

"I want to be loved like you, I don't wanna be fetishized. And anyway, you like him. But I love him. There's a difference."

"But why do you love him?"

"I just love...the way he laughs. His dry humor. His hair. I know things about him. I'm not ready for that to become useless information in my head yet. Girls like you have the luxury of all these guys...and you waste it. And it pisses me off. You get to experiment and grow, while I'm stuck in my room playing piano and day dreaming about something I don't even know if I'll ever obtain."

"You will obtain it. I know it. But I'm not gonna feel bad for liking someone who likes me back."

"I'm not asking you to. I just want someone to understand. Someone to listen to me. I feel like everyone sees me as this doll. A porcelain doll that sits on a bookshelf who they can pick up and play with any time they want. Did you tell your mom about him?"

"Of course. Me and my mom are best friends."

"I can't do that."

"Are you and your mom not close?"

"We'll never fucking be close as long as she keeps her mindset. Everything I tell her goes through a child filter so I can make sure not to break the 'perfect child' image she's built up for me over the years. Cause god forbid I be a teenage girl with a sexuality."

"Wow. Okay. I don't know how to respond—"

"I don't WANT a response— you know what? Fuck it. I'm sorry for bothering you and making you feel bad by my pity party. I'm just gonna go—" I choke out before storming out of the lunch room.

But right as I reach the door, she yells, "Iris! Wait."

I halt and turn around. "What?"

"You're not unlovable. You're a smart girl."

"I don't wanna be smart I just want someone to love me—"

"I know. But if you just want anyone to love you, then he isn't exactly the right fit for you, is he?"

I step an inch closer to her again. "What do you mean?"

She twiddles her thumbs before saying: "You're right. I was lucky enough to learn all these lessons and grow. One of the things I've learned was figuring out what I wanted and why I wanted a relationship in the first place. Have you ever thought about why?"

"Well...no. I never get the chance to. I just focus on whether he likes me. Not whether or not I would consider him."

"Maybe you should start. A relationship is a two person job. You're in this, too. It's not all about him."

— —
Dear Heaven,
Hi!!! Writing again. I said before that I got rejected. Well...I confronted the girl he chose over me. I don't know what I was expecting honestly, maybe I just wanted to call out her white privilege and show her my pain...I dunno. But she made me realize something when I talked to her. She asked me if I ever considered why I wanted to be in a relationship...no one's ever really asked me why I wanted something. No one's ever really taught me to consider myself cause you see from learning to be an accompanist all my life, I never thought it really mattered what I wanted in the grand scheme of things, as long as I deliver a track to the person's vocals.

Wait, actually, I'm still not satisfied at all. I feel like it's a distraction to justify that he chose her over me. It reminds me of that one episode from season three of Glee, where the character Tina Cohen-Chang started finally calling out that even though she was one of the original Glee members and she has an amazing voice, she's never gotten a solo. And then at the end of the episode she just had to accept that since she's a junior and the favorite, miss fucking Rachel Berry, is a senior and she "works harder" than Tina. Tina has to "wait her turn". Well, I'M not Tina. I'm not just going to sit there and take it anymore.|
— —