She woke the next morning when someone was banging loudly on her door. Since she had the bandages removed, she'd become increasingly surly, which had driven off all her friends, so the noise was not only unwelcome, but it was puzzling. Who would want to see her, and why at this hour?
She carefully secured the scarves and opened the door. Brock was on the other side, leaning on his crutches. "Misty! Come quick," he said excitedly. "He woke up! Ash is back!" His smile nearly engulfed his face.
Misty's smile slowly came on, but when it hit, her face lit unlike Brock had seen it since the accident. She embraced him and they laughed. "Come on, let's see him now!" He was already tottering down the hallway on his crutches. Misty started after him, but stopped. She could see how Ash would react once he saw her; his dark eyes would shine with happiness and relief, but once he saw her scars, he'd shrink in fear and disgust. She cared for him too much to have her heart broken as her face had been.
"Um, let me freshen myself up, Brock," she said. "I'll see you there, 'kay?" She put on a plastic-fake smile and a perky voice to match.
"Uh, yea, sure," he said, confused. He started off to see Ash. Misty fled back to her room, fighting tears. She stripped off the scarves to save them from the saline that fell from her eyes. She threw herself on her bed and sobbed, partially from happiness and consolation that Ash had turned the corner, and partially from shame and embarrassment. She ached to see Ash's dark eyes and impish smile again, to touch him, to see that he was truly alive, but she didn't want to risk his fright and aversion to her visual offensiveness. She sat in her room for days, purposefully avoiding everyone, and trying not to succumb to her desire to see Ash. People came into her room frequently to report that Ash had asked after her yet again. "He really wants to see you," Violet said during one of those reports. "He's like, hurt and confused. He thinks you don't like him anymore."
"No, I just, I can't face him like this," Misty said, looking down. "Does he know?"
"No, no one has told him," Violet replied. "I don't think he'd care anyway."
"That's where you're wrong. I know he would."
"Misty, he's your friend. Friends totally don't let things like this stand in the way of their friendships."
"You still have your hair. You woke up this morning with one of those damned avocado masks on you face, didn't you? You don't want to have to deal with blotchiness and a few pimples. Tell me, Vi, can you find me a masque that removes scars? And an invisible comb to style my invisible hair? Didn't think so."
Violet was hurt by the things Misty said, but stood her ground. "None of that matters to him, Misty. Look, I probably shouldn't tell you this, but I heard him and Brock talking today, and he said that before the accident, when we were supposed be at the club, he was going to tell you how he felt about you."
Misty's eyes widened. She raised her non-existent eyebrows, which made her scarf slip over her eye. "And that is...?"
"He wants to be with you. I still think he does, too. Misty, he likes you. Not just your face. Not just your hair. Now, please come see him. It's like, breaking his heart."
She looked at her older sister. She wanted to be convinced so badly, but she still resisted. "I'll try this afternoon," she said absently.
Violet exploded. "Misty, you're like, going to lose everyone you love if you're not careful. You almost did in the accident, but you lived. Now what are you trying to do? You didn't die, so you want to make it seem like you did by acting like a major pill? We don't want you dead. We want you to be yourself again. We're here for you. Take it, or leave it." Misty said nothing. Violet left her.
She carefully secured the scarves and opened the door. Brock was on the other side, leaning on his crutches. "Misty! Come quick," he said excitedly. "He woke up! Ash is back!" His smile nearly engulfed his face.
Misty's smile slowly came on, but when it hit, her face lit unlike Brock had seen it since the accident. She embraced him and they laughed. "Come on, let's see him now!" He was already tottering down the hallway on his crutches. Misty started after him, but stopped. She could see how Ash would react once he saw her; his dark eyes would shine with happiness and relief, but once he saw her scars, he'd shrink in fear and disgust. She cared for him too much to have her heart broken as her face had been.
"Um, let me freshen myself up, Brock," she said. "I'll see you there, 'kay?" She put on a plastic-fake smile and a perky voice to match.
"Uh, yea, sure," he said, confused. He started off to see Ash. Misty fled back to her room, fighting tears. She stripped off the scarves to save them from the saline that fell from her eyes. She threw herself on her bed and sobbed, partially from happiness and consolation that Ash had turned the corner, and partially from shame and embarrassment. She ached to see Ash's dark eyes and impish smile again, to touch him, to see that he was truly alive, but she didn't want to risk his fright and aversion to her visual offensiveness. She sat in her room for days, purposefully avoiding everyone, and trying not to succumb to her desire to see Ash. People came into her room frequently to report that Ash had asked after her yet again. "He really wants to see you," Violet said during one of those reports. "He's like, hurt and confused. He thinks you don't like him anymore."
"No, I just, I can't face him like this," Misty said, looking down. "Does he know?"
"No, no one has told him," Violet replied. "I don't think he'd care anyway."
"That's where you're wrong. I know he would."
"Misty, he's your friend. Friends totally don't let things like this stand in the way of their friendships."
"You still have your hair. You woke up this morning with one of those damned avocado masks on you face, didn't you? You don't want to have to deal with blotchiness and a few pimples. Tell me, Vi, can you find me a masque that removes scars? And an invisible comb to style my invisible hair? Didn't think so."
Violet was hurt by the things Misty said, but stood her ground. "None of that matters to him, Misty. Look, I probably shouldn't tell you this, but I heard him and Brock talking today, and he said that before the accident, when we were supposed be at the club, he was going to tell you how he felt about you."
Misty's eyes widened. She raised her non-existent eyebrows, which made her scarf slip over her eye. "And that is...?"
"He wants to be with you. I still think he does, too. Misty, he likes you. Not just your face. Not just your hair. Now, please come see him. It's like, breaking his heart."
She looked at her older sister. She wanted to be convinced so badly, but she still resisted. "I'll try this afternoon," she said absently.
Violet exploded. "Misty, you're like, going to lose everyone you love if you're not careful. You almost did in the accident, but you lived. Now what are you trying to do? You didn't die, so you want to make it seem like you did by acting like a major pill? We don't want you dead. We want you to be yourself again. We're here for you. Take it, or leave it." Misty said nothing. Violet left her.