Chapter 4 - Heightened Essences
Ginnie gazes at herself in the mirror on her door with soulful eyes. The memory of walking away from Timmy is fresh in her mind. In the fourteen hours since it occurred, it was all she could think about. The unusual thing about it is that she doesn't recall walking off of her own accord; it's like her heart wanted to stay, but her mind overruled it, forcing her body to act as such.
The girl squints a little at something in her reflection. She grabs her glasses off of the night table and puts them on. The style of her glasses wasn't something she was currently proud of; at six years of age, an unusual age to contract an astigmatism, she had thought, for some reason, that the '50s sock hop queen look was a good one. Her sight is incredibly blurry, equal to if someone coated the lenses in grease. She takes the spectacles off. Her vision is perfect. She tries the glasses on and off again two times. The same result: worse...better. Worse...better.
Ginnie's jaw drops a little. "What's happening to me?" Her voice sounds a lot smoother, like silk. A girl's voice can be pretty high, like hers once was and her hope was, sooner or later, that it would settle into a more manageable key.
She shakes her head, trying to ignore the weirdness. Her feet take her pacing around the bedroom. "Okay. Last night was pretty fun, at least until the end. I just need to apologize to Timmy. It's no problem." She smacks a fist into her open palm. "I will make this right."
XxXxXxXxX
There are a number of things in life that Timmy is unable to understand. Like how the cafeteria can get away with child abuse in serving their so-called meals, and the way that a treasured item is always around except when you really need it. At the moment, however, he can't help but wonder about the actions of the girl he had gotten to know so well.
He spies a drinking fountain and saunters toward it. The stream of water flows into his waiting mouth. After a few seconds of refreshment, he breaks away from the mini-oasis. Waiting right in his path is Ginnie. Timmy falls to the ground.
"Oh, sorry about that." With warmth in her voice, she extends her dainty hand to him.
He grabs it. "That's okay. It's good to see you again." She pulls him upright.
"Timmy, I had a wonderful time last night."
"So did I...at least, until the end." Timmy rubs the back of his neck with his hand.
Ginnie looks away ashamedly. "Oh...yeah."
"I know I might've been moving too fast. It's just that...I've never been on a real date with a girl before, and...well, the people in the movies make it look so easy; they can just kiss the girls and not get nervous. I want to apologize."
"Timmy..."
"I'm sorry, and I hope that this won't affect our friendship."
"Timmy, how could you ever believe that this would affect our friendship?" Ginnie looks into his eyes. Her violet pupils widen, like there's something going on in her head. Her coy face smooths out to form an expression of sternness. "Besides, who's to say we're even friends?"
The boy's jaw hangs open. "What?"
"You don't seem to understand. Let me spell it out for you: look at me...then, look at you. Can you imagine being seen with someone like you? What would people say?"
Timmy shakes his head. Every word out of her mouth is like a dagger in his back. "Ginnie..."
She puts two fingers to his lips. "No. Don't you dare make this harder than necessary. I don't want it to look like you dumped me."
Tears start to well up in the boy's blue eyes. "You're dumping me?"
"Think of it as giving you a chance, to go out with someone in your social circle." Ginnie turns and strides away. "I'm sure you'll find someone."
Timmy stares at the girl walking down the hall. Was this really the same nice girl he met a couple of days ago?
XxXxXxXxX
Timmy shuffles his feet on the sidewalk. Given the dark mood he currently experiences, taking the bus is not much of an option. He clutches his chest. There were a number of times when he'd heard about a person's heart breaking. He had shrugged them off as exaggerated figures of speech, but today, his heart really feels like two broken parts residing in his chest cavity.
So wrapped up in his loneliness is he, he fails to notice a redheaded woman sitting at a sidewalk cafe. She is quite lovely, even as she is crouched down at her table. On a plate rests the remnants of a tuna fish sandwich and in front of her is a bowl of vichyssoise...which she is lapping up with her tongue.
This morning, the woman was ready to leave for her job at a processing firm. Just as she reached for the doorknob, she glanced at her cat, Meadow. She loved her little calico and was grateful every day that her apartment allowed pets. The animal seemed to see a shadow of something on the windowshade. Meadow ran at it and crashed against the shade, falling to the floor. She shook off the injury and skulked away, jumping onto the table.
The woman, amused by the feline's antics, shook her head and walked out of her apartment, remarking, "Sometimes, I'd like to know what you're thinking."
The outline of a waving wand moved along the window shade. The woman had felt unusual urges over the course of the day, like hissing at obnoxious co-workers, grooming herself at her desk and purring at the cute guy on whom she had a cat's eye.
The woman continues at the soup. A younger man approaches her and places a slip of paper next to the bowl. "Your bill, miss."
She narrows her eyes and turns to the waiter, hissing at him. It could be because of the bill, or it could be that he is interrupting her meal.
The man looks at her. "Ma'am, I'm just trying to do my job." He turns and walks away. "There's no need to get catty." The restaurant does not pay the man enough to deal with this. Hopefully, his acting career will take off and end this pain.
The look of anger melts away and one of elation replaces it as the woman resumes her meal. A contented purr emanates from her lips.
XxXxXxXxX
Ginnie sits on the edge of her bed, her head in her hands. The day was, to say the least, a jumble of good occurences and unhappy incidents. She wanted to apologize to Timmy this morning. Heck, the words formed and crystalized in her brain, ready to deliver it to her mouth, but they seemed to shatter on impact. She lets out a defeated sob. A knock at the door gets her attention.
"Is everything alright?" The woman on the other side of the door already knows the answer...
"No." It's just a lot better to hear the other person say it.
The door opens and her mom walks in, a laundry basket under her arm. "Oh, dear, what's wrong?" The woman puts the basket down and sits beside her daughter.
"This boy I really liked...like. I wanted to apologize for what happened last night, but it came out all wrong."
"What happened?"
"Well, we were on a date, and..."
The woman's soft expression changes to one of mild chagrin. "You never said you went on a date."
"Well, yeah." Ginnie gulps a little, every bit the girl caught in a lie.
"So what happened?" Her voice bursts with enthusiasm. Every now and again, the woman likes to engage in girl talk, something she never really did when she was in school. Vicky, as one would expect, has been very unreceptive to the idea.
"We were on a bench in the park..."
"Wait, you spent the date on a park bench?"
"No." Ginnie wipes her eyes. "That's where the date ended."
"Did he take you anywhere?"
"Yeah: the mall, the museum, the convention center."
"And then, on the park bench..."
"He tried to kiss me, but I just walked away from him."
"Oh, honey, you're too young to be playing hard-to-get. You don't wanna enter high school with a reputation, do you?"
An oh-so-brief smile cracks Ginnie's face. She doesn't really want a reputation...right? She shakes her head. "No, of course not", she replies haltingly.
"Good." The woman picks up the basket. "You just need to trust that things will work out." She heads for the door and walks out.
Ginnie walks toward her mirror, gazing at the girl in the reflection. What am I doing? She looks scared, like she doesn't recognize herself. This isn't me.
She loses her footing and struggles to regain it. Her legs start to feel like gelatin. She takes a couple of steps and falls to the floor.
Timmy. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I don't know what to do. I...I...
Ginnie plants her hands on the floor and pushes herself up. She strides to the mirror with great confidence. "I don't know what I'm so worried about." The girl checks herself out and purses her lips. "I'm a real catch", she states in a smooth, almost seductive voice. She flashes a bright smile, showing off her perfectly straight, brace-free teeth.
XxXxXxXxX
Trixie lies on her bed, staring at the canopy. This had been a day of firsts...many of them bad. She refused to wear her glasses in the hall, causing her to misread the signs on the restroom doors. The figures of the man and the woman can look so similar when your vision is messed up. Also, her singing practice had been a disaster. Twice a week, she hones her voice for a potential career, but her flawless pipes seemed to rust out. Her voice was unnaturally high and screechy.
If that wasn't enough, she tripped in the hallway after lunch. Making the situation worse were two factors: one, it happened in the middle of a crowded hallway and two, she seemed to trip over nothing. Among many other things, Trixie prides herself on her coordination and grace. Such an action does not reflect well on her social standing, such as it is.
The rich girl hops off of her bed and rushes to her closet. The spacious area is a walk-in closet containing her many articles of clothing. Presumably, they were being saved for something special, as her pink-sweater-and-white-shirt ensemble receives quite a daily workout.
She skips out with a book in her hands. She leaps onto the bed and opens the book, which reads 'Precious Memories' on the cover. Like a number of people at Dimmsdale Elementary, Trixie considered her experiences - the ones not involving her, anyway - anything but precious, but a feeling of warmth seems to overcome her as she flips through the pages.
She stops on a page and stares intently and longingly at something in the bottom right hand corner. It is a picture of Timmy. He looks surprised, like he hadn't expected someone with a camera to encounter him.
"Oh, Timmy. Someday you will be mine." She laughs, her teeth obscured by metal brackets. She hasn't needed braces a day in her life, but she smiles as if having them is the most natural thing in the world.