We threw Claire on my bed. My shoulders felt relieved. Lizzie looked
timidly around the room.
"Don't worry about my mom," I said. "She's just a little out there."
"Oh," said Lizzie quietly. It was a neutral response.
I spoke harshly. "Don't 'oh' me, McGuire. I know what you're thinking, okay? I don't need you feeling sorry for me."
"I didn't say anything."
"Look, I don't want your pity. Let's not forget who's who here. If you even think about feeling sorry for me, or tell anyone about tonight, I'll make your every last day at Hillridge a living nightmare."
"I won't say anything."
I felt awkward. I lashed out at her, but she didn't seem to care. I would normally expect her to get defensive and try to tell me off, but she wasn't even angry. She stood calmly, almost distracted, still looking around my room.
I moved to the dresser and pulled out a pair of my pajamas. "Here," I said, handing them to Lizzie. "You can sleep in this tonight, and we'll take your clothes downstairs to the laundry room. You can crash in the guest room, two doors down." Lizzie nodded. I reached into the drawer and pulled out clothes for myself. "I'm taking a shower now... make yourself at home, I guess."
It was such an odd situation. Being respectful to anyone who walked in our house was something that had been drilled into me since birth, but I was unaccustomed to being hospitable to Lizzie. It felt so natural to be nice to her, and that scared me. How nice was too nice? I didn't trust myself to say or do the right things around her.
I turned away from her quickly and moved to exit the room. As I shut the door behind me, I had to stop myself from watching as she slipped out of her clothes and dressed herself in mine.
She was gone when I came back from my shower, her clothes lying in my floor. I picked them up and examined them. I felt so strange, holding them in my hands. It felt far too personal. I carried them downstairs to the laundry room. I heard my mother snoring from the couch as I passed through the living room. When I came back upstairs, I saw that the door to the guest room had been left open. Lizzie was curled beneath the blankets, eyes closed and breathing softly. I forced myself to keep walking instead of lingering to watch her.
I went into my bedroom and shoved aside the inebriated Claire. What a friend I was, to take such good care of her. I made I mental note to tell her later that she owed me. As I curled beneath the covers, my eyelids suddenly felt heavy. I drifted quickly to sleep.
I woke up sweating some time later. I looked over at my alarm clock: 6:44 AM. My face was hot. Claire was still snoring beside me. I pushed the blankets off of me and slid off the bed. I felt dizzy, and I couldn't help but notice how warm it seemed to have gotten in the room. I walked to the window. The sky was ashy blue, fading from night to morning.
I crept downstairs through the quiet house. My mother was still sprawled across the couch, make-up smeared from her soft skin, wisps of blonde hair flying in various directions, the empty glass barely remaining in her fingers. She was like a dying angel. I continued past her lifeless body into the kitchen.
I was surprised to see Lizzie sitting at the table eating toast. The kitchen lights had not been turned on. Instead, the room was lit only by the weak light of the rising sun through the windows. She looked over at me and blushed slightly.
"I always wake up early when I'm at other people's houses," she said quietly, smiling in an embarrassed sort of way. "I don't know why. I've been doing it since I was little."
I nodded my head in understanding. "I know. I remember that from when..." I had to stop myself from saying "when we were friends." The last thing I needed was an awkward moment at the ass-crack of dawn. "From when we were younger."
"Oh yeah. That's right."
I retrieved a glass from the cabinet and filled it with orange juice. I took my drink and sat across from Lizzie as she ate.
"Your, uh, laundry should be done by now," I said, trying to make conversation. I simply cannot sit with someone like that and not have a conversation. Silence is something I don't deal with well.
Lizzie nodded. "Cool." Pause. Longer pause. "Kate. I know we're not on great terms or anything, but I appreciate what you did. I know it doesn't change anything between us, but I just wanted to thank you anyway."
I looked across the table at those kind blue eyes. I wanted to say something, but words did not come easily. I was unnerved. Kate Sanders always has something to say; Kate is never left speechless. "Um... it's nothing. No problem. Any time."
She grinned with amusement and raised an eyebrow. "Any time?"
I laughed, catching on. "Okay, yeah. Not any time. Just, you know, when no one's looking."
Lizzie laughed, too, as she got up to refill her glass with milk. I felt much more at ease knowing that the two of us could laugh about the barriers that kept us apart in the high school realm.
"So, McGuire... how has high school been for you so far?"
Lizzie returned to her seat and took a sip of milk. "It's been a sort of difficult adjustment, but it wasn't nearly as bad as I thought. When we got those threats from the high schoolers last year... I was sooo scared."
I smiled. "Oh, come on. You didn't really take anything they said seriously, did you? I wasn't worried at all."
She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, but that's because you had it in with the cheerleaders. You may not realize this, Miss Sanders, but the world is actually a little difficult for those of us who aren't protected by the pom pom cult."
"Tuh! You think my life isn't difficult? It's not easy being beautiful, you know." I made a dramatic gesture towards my face, which wore a melodramatic expression. I was joking around, but as I did it I realized that I had just woken up. No make-up, hair disheveled; how could I have let Lizzie see me like that? Did I look awful?
If Lizzie noticed, she certainly didn't let it show. "Oh yes, it must be way difficult." She twirled a lock of blonde hair around her finger and spoke in a ditzy falsetto voice. "Golly Jeepers, how will I ever find the time to date Ethan Craft AND be the most popular girl in the ninth grade AND get to cheerleading practice on time." She sighed sarcastically. "My life is just so hard."
The two of us laughed together, something we hadn't done since our project on Latvia in the seventh grade. It was a wonderful moment when the two of us were able to let our guard down.
"But seriously, Kate," she said once our laughter had died down. She seemed almost embarrassed to ask her question. "What's it like to date Ethan Craft?"
My laughter faded, too, and I sighed. "Honestly? It's not all it's cracked up to be." What? Had I just said that to Lizzie McGuire? I wasn't supposed to be honest with her. I was supposed to gloss it up and rub it in her face. But I was locked in the moment. Lizzie and I were the only two people in the world when we were in my dimly lit kitchen, and I couldn't help but tell her the truth. "He's a great guy, and I love him, but it's not like your life magically becomes better just because you've got Ethan Craft. The thrill of it wears off quick."
She nodded. "Yeah, but... he does have good hair."
I grinned. "Oh, totally. That much never changes." She smiled back at me. "What about you, though? How are things going with Gordo in the sparks department?"
She sighed. "The sparks are dead."
"Really? But I thought you guys hit it off this summer."
"Yeah, we did. The romance of Italy will do that to you. We dated for a few weeks, but eventually we just broke up. It was too weird. You can't be friends with someone for that long and then try and change everything to make it a romantic relationship."
"I guess that makes sense."
She nodded. "I think it goes back to the whole Ethan mentality. People like him because he seems so unreachable. It's like, there's a mystery to him. Well, with Gordo, there were no mysteries. There were no sparks. Sometimes the person you should be with isn't the one you feel most comfortable around. It's the one that you'd never think of in a million years."
"I know what you mean..." I mumbled softly. I looked at her face. The sun had completely risen at this point, and it poured from the window and outlined her in gold. She glowed, and I felt light-headed.
She reached out suddenly and placed her hand on top of mine. "I really like this, Kate. When me and you can just talk and be friends like we used to be." I nodded vaguely. I wanted to kiss her, but I wouldn't dare. I was frozen where I sat. "I feel like I can really open up to you."
I looked down. "Yeah. Me too. But you know we can't be friends again." No! Why did I say that? Why did I finally decide to put my walls back up? "We're like on two different planets."
She pulled her hand away and nodded. "I know. That's high school for you." She was still smiling, but I saw something flicker in her eyes. For a moment I saw a kind of sadness I'd never seen in anyone's eyes before. Her voice changed. It felt different; darker. "Do you ever feel... like you're not inside yourself? Like, you go around every day and live your life, but when you get home at night you suddenly feel like someone else has been running the controls inside your head. And you don't know who you are, you just sit there and watch things go by."
I did not know what to think. Her tone had changed so swiftly. Something was wrong. "Um... I don't think so." That was a lie. I knew exactly what she meant, even though I was confused at why she had said it. I knew what it felt like to live inside a shell.
As quickly as her mood had darkened, she perked right back up. The sadness was gone from her eyes, though I still felt it linger inside me. "Just wondering. It was a random question, really... the kind of thing you think up this early in the morning, eh?"
I nodded slowly. "Um... right. I'm, uh, I'm going to go check on your laundry." I stood up and left her there in my kitchen. I walked briskly to the laundry room, hoping she hadn't followed me. I sat down on top of the washing machine and took a deep breath, wiping tears from my face.
When Lizzie's mom showed up a few hours later, I had to make a well-crafted apology for not having my parents call her like I promised. I used the excuse that my mother and father were both asleep; Lizzie backed up my story. Mrs. McGuire finally gave in and accepted our story.
At some point soon after my mother woke up. She took a few aspirin and moved upstairs, too out of it to even acknowledge my presence. I sat on the couch, staring at the TV that I hadn't turned on. What had happened that morning? There was a window. A tiny window that Lizzie opened for just a brief moment to let me see inside her. In that window, I saw a side of Lizzie I'd never seen or even imagined before. It only heightened my longing for her. What else didn't I know about her? I was suddenly hungry to know more. So I guess Lizzie was right about the appeal of mystery.
I wondered if I had done the same thing. Had I opened a window to her? Had I let her see something that no one else had seen? The thought both frightened and warmed me. I almost wanted her to see me. For the first time, I actually wanted someone to see me for what I was. For a moment I felt like I didn't have the strength to pretend any more.
Claire came downstairs. She looked about as awful as my mother did. She sat down beside me on the couch and cracked a smile.
"I'm never drinking as long as I live," she said with a laugh, rubbing her forehead.
"Yeah," I replied, still staring off into space.
She stared at me. "Hello? Earth to Kate? What's up with you?"
I broke away from my train of thought and was a little snappy in my response. "Nothing. I just woke up really early this morning and I couldn't fall back asleep."
"Oh. I guess I'll lay off then." She playfully nudged my shoulder. "I know how pissy you get when you don't get enough sleep."
I rolled my eyes. "Yeah. Whatever."
She frowned. "You must really be out of it. I can't even get a rise out of you."
"It's just... Like, have you ever felt like you're not inside yourself?"
"Huh?"
"Like someone's inside your head running the controls?"
She sighed and shook her head. "Kate, what is your problem? It's like you and I can't even talk any more. You're always off in your own world, like a freak."
I turned to her, feeling angry. "What do you mean freak? At least I'm not the one who dresses like a goth for a party and then gets drunk off her ass."
"No, you'd prefer to blow off your friend for someone older and be a royal bitch."
"I may be a royal bitch but at least I can hold my own. Face it, Claire, you're nothing without me. All I have to do is say the word and you're gone."
Claire was fuming. "Then do it! See if I care." She shook her head. "It's like I don't even know you any more. What the hell is going on with you?"
Why did we have to fight now? My mind was too full to have to deal with Claire. But maybe she had a point. What was wrong with me? Why couldn't I be the same old untouchable Kate? What had come over me?
My eyes filled with tears. "I'm in love, damn it! Okay? Is that what you wanted to hear? I'm in love with a girl. You're right, I'm a total freak, because I'm in love with the last person I should be in love with, and I can't stop it!"
There. My secret was out, I had spoken it out loud. I looked at Claire, expecting her to laugh or be disgusted or something. But instead she just smiled. "You have no idea," she said softly. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to hear you say that."
"Huh?"
But I couldn't say anything else. The next thing I knew, Claire was on top of me, and we were kissing.
"Don't worry about my mom," I said. "She's just a little out there."
"Oh," said Lizzie quietly. It was a neutral response.
I spoke harshly. "Don't 'oh' me, McGuire. I know what you're thinking, okay? I don't need you feeling sorry for me."
"I didn't say anything."
"Look, I don't want your pity. Let's not forget who's who here. If you even think about feeling sorry for me, or tell anyone about tonight, I'll make your every last day at Hillridge a living nightmare."
"I won't say anything."
I felt awkward. I lashed out at her, but she didn't seem to care. I would normally expect her to get defensive and try to tell me off, but she wasn't even angry. She stood calmly, almost distracted, still looking around my room.
I moved to the dresser and pulled out a pair of my pajamas. "Here," I said, handing them to Lizzie. "You can sleep in this tonight, and we'll take your clothes downstairs to the laundry room. You can crash in the guest room, two doors down." Lizzie nodded. I reached into the drawer and pulled out clothes for myself. "I'm taking a shower now... make yourself at home, I guess."
It was such an odd situation. Being respectful to anyone who walked in our house was something that had been drilled into me since birth, but I was unaccustomed to being hospitable to Lizzie. It felt so natural to be nice to her, and that scared me. How nice was too nice? I didn't trust myself to say or do the right things around her.
I turned away from her quickly and moved to exit the room. As I shut the door behind me, I had to stop myself from watching as she slipped out of her clothes and dressed herself in mine.
She was gone when I came back from my shower, her clothes lying in my floor. I picked them up and examined them. I felt so strange, holding them in my hands. It felt far too personal. I carried them downstairs to the laundry room. I heard my mother snoring from the couch as I passed through the living room. When I came back upstairs, I saw that the door to the guest room had been left open. Lizzie was curled beneath the blankets, eyes closed and breathing softly. I forced myself to keep walking instead of lingering to watch her.
I went into my bedroom and shoved aside the inebriated Claire. What a friend I was, to take such good care of her. I made I mental note to tell her later that she owed me. As I curled beneath the covers, my eyelids suddenly felt heavy. I drifted quickly to sleep.
I woke up sweating some time later. I looked over at my alarm clock: 6:44 AM. My face was hot. Claire was still snoring beside me. I pushed the blankets off of me and slid off the bed. I felt dizzy, and I couldn't help but notice how warm it seemed to have gotten in the room. I walked to the window. The sky was ashy blue, fading from night to morning.
I crept downstairs through the quiet house. My mother was still sprawled across the couch, make-up smeared from her soft skin, wisps of blonde hair flying in various directions, the empty glass barely remaining in her fingers. She was like a dying angel. I continued past her lifeless body into the kitchen.
I was surprised to see Lizzie sitting at the table eating toast. The kitchen lights had not been turned on. Instead, the room was lit only by the weak light of the rising sun through the windows. She looked over at me and blushed slightly.
"I always wake up early when I'm at other people's houses," she said quietly, smiling in an embarrassed sort of way. "I don't know why. I've been doing it since I was little."
I nodded my head in understanding. "I know. I remember that from when..." I had to stop myself from saying "when we were friends." The last thing I needed was an awkward moment at the ass-crack of dawn. "From when we were younger."
"Oh yeah. That's right."
I retrieved a glass from the cabinet and filled it with orange juice. I took my drink and sat across from Lizzie as she ate.
"Your, uh, laundry should be done by now," I said, trying to make conversation. I simply cannot sit with someone like that and not have a conversation. Silence is something I don't deal with well.
Lizzie nodded. "Cool." Pause. Longer pause. "Kate. I know we're not on great terms or anything, but I appreciate what you did. I know it doesn't change anything between us, but I just wanted to thank you anyway."
I looked across the table at those kind blue eyes. I wanted to say something, but words did not come easily. I was unnerved. Kate Sanders always has something to say; Kate is never left speechless. "Um... it's nothing. No problem. Any time."
She grinned with amusement and raised an eyebrow. "Any time?"
I laughed, catching on. "Okay, yeah. Not any time. Just, you know, when no one's looking."
Lizzie laughed, too, as she got up to refill her glass with milk. I felt much more at ease knowing that the two of us could laugh about the barriers that kept us apart in the high school realm.
"So, McGuire... how has high school been for you so far?"
Lizzie returned to her seat and took a sip of milk. "It's been a sort of difficult adjustment, but it wasn't nearly as bad as I thought. When we got those threats from the high schoolers last year... I was sooo scared."
I smiled. "Oh, come on. You didn't really take anything they said seriously, did you? I wasn't worried at all."
She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, but that's because you had it in with the cheerleaders. You may not realize this, Miss Sanders, but the world is actually a little difficult for those of us who aren't protected by the pom pom cult."
"Tuh! You think my life isn't difficult? It's not easy being beautiful, you know." I made a dramatic gesture towards my face, which wore a melodramatic expression. I was joking around, but as I did it I realized that I had just woken up. No make-up, hair disheveled; how could I have let Lizzie see me like that? Did I look awful?
If Lizzie noticed, she certainly didn't let it show. "Oh yes, it must be way difficult." She twirled a lock of blonde hair around her finger and spoke in a ditzy falsetto voice. "Golly Jeepers, how will I ever find the time to date Ethan Craft AND be the most popular girl in the ninth grade AND get to cheerleading practice on time." She sighed sarcastically. "My life is just so hard."
The two of us laughed together, something we hadn't done since our project on Latvia in the seventh grade. It was a wonderful moment when the two of us were able to let our guard down.
"But seriously, Kate," she said once our laughter had died down. She seemed almost embarrassed to ask her question. "What's it like to date Ethan Craft?"
My laughter faded, too, and I sighed. "Honestly? It's not all it's cracked up to be." What? Had I just said that to Lizzie McGuire? I wasn't supposed to be honest with her. I was supposed to gloss it up and rub it in her face. But I was locked in the moment. Lizzie and I were the only two people in the world when we were in my dimly lit kitchen, and I couldn't help but tell her the truth. "He's a great guy, and I love him, but it's not like your life magically becomes better just because you've got Ethan Craft. The thrill of it wears off quick."
She nodded. "Yeah, but... he does have good hair."
I grinned. "Oh, totally. That much never changes." She smiled back at me. "What about you, though? How are things going with Gordo in the sparks department?"
She sighed. "The sparks are dead."
"Really? But I thought you guys hit it off this summer."
"Yeah, we did. The romance of Italy will do that to you. We dated for a few weeks, but eventually we just broke up. It was too weird. You can't be friends with someone for that long and then try and change everything to make it a romantic relationship."
"I guess that makes sense."
She nodded. "I think it goes back to the whole Ethan mentality. People like him because he seems so unreachable. It's like, there's a mystery to him. Well, with Gordo, there were no mysteries. There were no sparks. Sometimes the person you should be with isn't the one you feel most comfortable around. It's the one that you'd never think of in a million years."
"I know what you mean..." I mumbled softly. I looked at her face. The sun had completely risen at this point, and it poured from the window and outlined her in gold. She glowed, and I felt light-headed.
She reached out suddenly and placed her hand on top of mine. "I really like this, Kate. When me and you can just talk and be friends like we used to be." I nodded vaguely. I wanted to kiss her, but I wouldn't dare. I was frozen where I sat. "I feel like I can really open up to you."
I looked down. "Yeah. Me too. But you know we can't be friends again." No! Why did I say that? Why did I finally decide to put my walls back up? "We're like on two different planets."
She pulled her hand away and nodded. "I know. That's high school for you." She was still smiling, but I saw something flicker in her eyes. For a moment I saw a kind of sadness I'd never seen in anyone's eyes before. Her voice changed. It felt different; darker. "Do you ever feel... like you're not inside yourself? Like, you go around every day and live your life, but when you get home at night you suddenly feel like someone else has been running the controls inside your head. And you don't know who you are, you just sit there and watch things go by."
I did not know what to think. Her tone had changed so swiftly. Something was wrong. "Um... I don't think so." That was a lie. I knew exactly what she meant, even though I was confused at why she had said it. I knew what it felt like to live inside a shell.
As quickly as her mood had darkened, she perked right back up. The sadness was gone from her eyes, though I still felt it linger inside me. "Just wondering. It was a random question, really... the kind of thing you think up this early in the morning, eh?"
I nodded slowly. "Um... right. I'm, uh, I'm going to go check on your laundry." I stood up and left her there in my kitchen. I walked briskly to the laundry room, hoping she hadn't followed me. I sat down on top of the washing machine and took a deep breath, wiping tears from my face.
When Lizzie's mom showed up a few hours later, I had to make a well-crafted apology for not having my parents call her like I promised. I used the excuse that my mother and father were both asleep; Lizzie backed up my story. Mrs. McGuire finally gave in and accepted our story.
At some point soon after my mother woke up. She took a few aspirin and moved upstairs, too out of it to even acknowledge my presence. I sat on the couch, staring at the TV that I hadn't turned on. What had happened that morning? There was a window. A tiny window that Lizzie opened for just a brief moment to let me see inside her. In that window, I saw a side of Lizzie I'd never seen or even imagined before. It only heightened my longing for her. What else didn't I know about her? I was suddenly hungry to know more. So I guess Lizzie was right about the appeal of mystery.
I wondered if I had done the same thing. Had I opened a window to her? Had I let her see something that no one else had seen? The thought both frightened and warmed me. I almost wanted her to see me. For the first time, I actually wanted someone to see me for what I was. For a moment I felt like I didn't have the strength to pretend any more.
Claire came downstairs. She looked about as awful as my mother did. She sat down beside me on the couch and cracked a smile.
"I'm never drinking as long as I live," she said with a laugh, rubbing her forehead.
"Yeah," I replied, still staring off into space.
She stared at me. "Hello? Earth to Kate? What's up with you?"
I broke away from my train of thought and was a little snappy in my response. "Nothing. I just woke up really early this morning and I couldn't fall back asleep."
"Oh. I guess I'll lay off then." She playfully nudged my shoulder. "I know how pissy you get when you don't get enough sleep."
I rolled my eyes. "Yeah. Whatever."
She frowned. "You must really be out of it. I can't even get a rise out of you."
"It's just... Like, have you ever felt like you're not inside yourself?"
"Huh?"
"Like someone's inside your head running the controls?"
She sighed and shook her head. "Kate, what is your problem? It's like you and I can't even talk any more. You're always off in your own world, like a freak."
I turned to her, feeling angry. "What do you mean freak? At least I'm not the one who dresses like a goth for a party and then gets drunk off her ass."
"No, you'd prefer to blow off your friend for someone older and be a royal bitch."
"I may be a royal bitch but at least I can hold my own. Face it, Claire, you're nothing without me. All I have to do is say the word and you're gone."
Claire was fuming. "Then do it! See if I care." She shook her head. "It's like I don't even know you any more. What the hell is going on with you?"
Why did we have to fight now? My mind was too full to have to deal with Claire. But maybe she had a point. What was wrong with me? Why couldn't I be the same old untouchable Kate? What had come over me?
My eyes filled with tears. "I'm in love, damn it! Okay? Is that what you wanted to hear? I'm in love with a girl. You're right, I'm a total freak, because I'm in love with the last person I should be in love with, and I can't stop it!"
There. My secret was out, I had spoken it out loud. I looked at Claire, expecting her to laugh or be disgusted or something. But instead she just smiled. "You have no idea," she said softly. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to hear you say that."
"Huh?"
But I couldn't say anything else. The next thing I knew, Claire was on top of me, and we were kissing.