Fandom: Victorious
Title: Point of View
Chapter Four: The Baby
Point of View: Cat Valentine
Dec 23rd, 2022
2nd Period Mr. Erwin Sikowitz, Advanced Acting Improv.
"Hey' oh." Robbie Shapiro comes up behind us, startling us both and causing us to lose our belongings nearly.
"Jesus, Robbie!" Jade hisses, grabbing her chest. "What the hell?"
"Sorry."
"Yeah, so are we that you were born," Jade mumbles shoving him as we head down the steps.
"Rude much." Rex, his puppet mutters.
"Not yet, but I can be, puppet." "I'm not a puppet!" "Yeah, Rex isn't a puppet!"
'If it quacks like a puppet, look like a puppet must be a …" Jade grabs the railing as she starts to cough again, her knees trembling. I rush over to her, rubbing her back, feeling the heat radiating off her skin like flames. All around us, the halls are decorated in Christmas cheer red and green garland strung from the railings, silver tinsel hanging from doors with mistletoe, and giant gold and silver reindeer standing in the hallways. Santa decorations line the windows with snowflakes, snowmen, ornament balls, bells, reindeer, and musical instruments.
A giant 15 ft Christmas tree is at the top of the steps we just passed. I glance up seeing the sparkling multi-color LED lights. "The decorations are so pretty." "Yeah, Cat, they are, but not as pretty as you." I squirm, uncomfortable by Robbie's comment. "Stop hitting on Cat, loser." Jade rasps out, taking the water bottle and swallowing a gulp.
"Hey. I am not a loser. My mommy says I am adorable."
"Your mommy's a liar."
"Hey! That's not nice!"
"Neither is Jade." Rex chimes into the conversation. "Hey, Rex, wanna be Christmas stew?" "No!" "Then shut up."
We head down the hallway. I'm glad our classroom is just around the corner. We settle into the seats, dropping the bags on the floor. Jade barely looks like she can stand. Laying her head against my shoulder, Jade closes her eyes. Her breathing is deep and shallow. I kiss her forehead and instantly feel how warm her skin is, which worries me more her temperature must be close to 103, she shouldn't be in school with a fever, but there's no way she will see a nurse. Not with all our assignments due today. "So, any plans for your birthday, ladies?"
Robbie leans over to ask me the question avoiding Jade at all costs. "Not yet. It's a little hard to make plans when your birthday falls on Christmas. Everything is closed." "I heard Jade's legs are always open. Any truth to that, Beck?" Rex laughs at his joke. "Ah!" he screams as Jade grabs his curly hair and hauls him out the window. Robbie sighs. "Not again, Jade. The last time you threw him out the window, I had thorns in my butt-checks for weeks."
"You are a throne in my butt. One I can't remove."
"Christmas Improv Excises! On stage now! Cat, Jade, Tori!" our teacher comes inside the classroom, blowing a trumpet scaring us all off our seats. Jade clutches my arm as we make our way to the stage in his classroom. We're both looking to make sure he isn't going to throw any balls at our faces. He's been known to do crazy things like hitting us with balls, coconuts, or anything he can get his hands on to keep us on our toes.
"Jade. Tori. You are a newlywed couple on Christmas vacation. Class name a detestation vacation for the holidays."
"Hawaii!"
"Japan"
"Auba!"
"Ireland"
"London"
"Aspen"
"Rome"
"Aspen, it is Andre's good choice. Okay. Next class, what prop do they have? Who is Cat?"
"A baby!" Robbie calls out, groaning. I glare at Robbie. Everyone knows I hate being the damn baby when Tori and Jade are my partners. "Baby, it is, Robbie. Cat, you are…."
"The baby, yes. I know Sikowitz." I growl, sighing and raising my arms so Jade can pick me up. She groans, wrapping her arms around my waist and lifting me so I can wrap my legs around her waist, laying my head on her shoulder. I sigh, catching a whiff of her Mojave Ghost perfume. It's a floral-sweet scent with a combination of woodiness and ambrette. The fragrance leaves a unique trace of a bright and addicting aroma.
Relaxing me almost too fast; it's hard to keep my eyes propped open. "Hey, no acting on Cat's part. It's the perfect role for her to play." "Shut up, Robbie." "Hey, that's rude!"
"So is your face Shapiro." "Enough, Jade. Robbie." Mr. Sikowitz sighs, shaking his head and sipping his coconut juice. "Tori. Jade. You are newlyweds on honeymoon in Aspen with your brand-new baby girl. What are they fighting about class?"
"How to feed the baby!" Trina Vega calls out, waving her hand up in the air. Sikowitz sighs. His eyes look tired, like he can't believe he got stuck with Trina for another year. She was supposed to be a senior this year but failed his Improv class last year, so she has to repeat his course. So really, he only has himself to blame for not passing her.
"Good suggestion Trina. Wow. I am impressed you said something intelligent." "Thanks, Mr. Sikowitz. Hey! What's that supposed to mean?" "Nothing good, lord child, so sensitive. Moving on."
"Cat's dressed perfectly for the part." Tony Tropicana snickers nudging his best friend Spencer L Amount. Sighing, I shake my head, remembering the fight which leads me to wear this brilliant outfit to school.
Earlier that morning.
"Catarina, get over here. Do not attempt to sneak out that door before you show me what you are wearing, young lady."
My father's voice boomed from the kitchen where he was standing with my mother. Sighing, I turned around, my eight-inch Jimmy Choo heels clicking against the marble foyer titles. His voice is stern, leaving no room for arguments. It's not the daddy's little girl voice. It's that I am losing patience with these antics. My dad doesn't need to shout to command respect in his voice Daniel Louis Valentine is a staff sergeant in the United States Air Force and the captain of the 181 Fire Station third shift. His expectations are unyielding. I talk. You listen—no room for augments.
My entire family was gathered inside the kitchen having breakfast. Older brother Sutton Nicholas Valentine seventeen, sits at the island munching on lucky charms. Younger brother Rylee Desmond Valentine, fourteen, sits one stool down from him, spreading cinnamon on his toast. Nine-year-old Matthew Louis Valentine and Eight-year-old Carson James Valentine, my nephews from Daniel, sit between the boys playing with GI Joe action figures instead of eating their cheerios. My mother, Aislinn Jasmine Moore-Valentine, brews coffee as she talks into her cell phone.
The skylight is wide open, letting natural moonlight into the kitchen, creating an eerie glow across the surfaces. The minute I enter the kitchen, my brothers sit up wide-eyed, checking out my outfit, bracing for World War three. Sutton is the first to hammer a nail into my coffin. "I didn't know Hollywood Arts had such a liberal dress code! Yo' dad if all the girls dress as skimpy as Cat. Can I go there next semester?"
Asshole. I think silently. Watching my dad's eyes glance at my dress, 42 cm from the waist down, it was red and white with a sweetheart neckline. Sleeveless. Canvassed in tulle. Rear zipper and hook-and-eye fastening. The chest area has a scoop where the dress is cut in a Bikinx Chain Cutout. I have a Santa scarf tied around my neckline. "Shut up, Sutton. At least my school has rules. Your's should be condemned for the animals they allow to run free inside those walls. I'm shocked the cops haven't arrested someone yet."
"Catarina Luria Valentine, where the hell do you think you are going dressed like that this morning?"
"School, daddy. It's the last day before Christmas. We're supposed to dress festively."
I look at myself in the full-length hall mirror, not seeing the issue. My dress fits me like a glove. My body is very fit and trimmed from hours of a vigorous workout routine along with a strict vegan and dairy-free diet. My body size is small; even in six inches heals, I barely reach 5'1. My weight is only one hundred pounds soaking wet. Not every teenager can pull off this outfit, but I made it work and look fabulous.
I saw it when I was shopping last week on Rodeo Drive. Jade saw this on display at Alexandra McQueen's store and insisted I try this on. She gasped when I walked out of the dressing room and told me how beautiful I looked. Her compliment made me burn in secret pleasure.
"Not in that outfit, you aren't. This is not festive. This outfit belongs in a strip club. No daughter will walk out of my million-dollar mansion looking like a stripper."
"I am not a stripper, daddy. I am a working actress who has been nominated for two golden globes and earned the money I used for this outfit by working my ass off every day for years while all my friends got to skate or hang out in the mall. I deserve to spend a little on myself to make myself feel good. I am not a little girl anymore. I will be sixteen tomorrow. It's time you start treating me like a teenager, not some trophy on a shelf you are afraid will break if you let it out of your sight."
My father's face beams bright red; his fists clench at his sides the words come out of his mouth in huffs. "You are my little girl, Catarina. I don't care how long it takes to rearrange your hair in front of the mirror. How much makeup you cake on your face or how many hours you work for your money. You are living in my house that I pay for you are only fifteen years old. Until you are eighteen years old, you will legally be my little girl. So what I say is acceptable to be worn is the rule. Do you understand me?"
"You can make yourself look older by wearing a bra you don't need. Applying baby blue eye shadow and bright pink blush puffing your hair up, none of it will take away your true self. You are a naive, innocent little girl. My baby girl." I gasp, my hands flying to my chest area, feeling my cheeks burn in shame. My father's comment feels like a slap across my face to my womanhood. My breasts are nowhere close to Jade's size of 36B. I barely fit into a 32A cup, but given my body frame and size, they are nothing to be ashamed of. They're pretty and firm. Not a blimpish on my skin.
He doesn't see me as a teenager. He'll only ever see me as that little girl who ran to him with open arms through a field of flowers, calling out daddy, daddy, don't go! He lifted me and spun me around, calling me his little princess wrapping his arms around me, and protecting me from the hurt of saying goodbye. He refuses to see the changes which have happened to me since that day twelve years ago in body, mind, and soul. I've grown in height, in breast size, get my menstrual cycle which sucks; my mind has grown. I've been hurt, used, afraid, and lost people I loved. I no longer see the world through Disney-colored rose glasses.
The changes haven't only happened in my body and my mind. I'm anxious all the damn time now about how I look and how people see me. I'm irritable. I used to be FUN, and now I've just changed so much that I never let loose or have fun anymore. Every day feels like I am striving towards being perfect all the time. I am so critical of myself. Is my hair done the right way? Does every magazine have to have some story about my personal life with a headline like what is she doing wearing that outfit? Who is she dating? It's gotten to the point that staying home is safer. But I don't. I refuse to allow anyone to indicate how I live my life, so I pick myself up every day and go outside to live on my terms.
Some days it feels tough to tune out the criticism. It's a fight to stand tall to feel safe. It's so easy for people to say shit about you if they don't know you, or for other people to say don't pay attention,' but when you're walking down the street, and even paparazzi are mocking you for the same things you're trying to avoid, it's so deteriorating on your self-esteem, your confidence, the way that you view yourself. My father is my paparazzi.
My mom is rarely home. She's constantly touring the world. When she's here in LA, she's always giving interviews, off in the studio recording her music, hosting some award show, or filming her reality show. She's rarely ever present enough to be my mother to answer questions about why my body is changing or how I am supposed to deal with these emotions. If I need advice or support, I have no woman I can turn to because she cares more about being a reality TV star or a country superstar than a mother. The few times she asks me how I feel, it's always for the camera's benefit. I learned a long time ago to conceal how I feel because these producers don't give a damn about how I think or what the toll of being a public face means to a child. Everything to them is ratings. I am not a rating. I am a human being.
My dad wanted all boys. He has no clue how to deal with a daughter; he is all about sports accomplishments being challenging. Last year the pain from my cycle was so bad I couldn't leave my bed for days without cramping so bad it leveled me; my dad thought I was being dramatic and begging for attention. He never considered that my pain was real. My dad wouldn't talk to me about it or take me to a doctor. It left me scared and angry, not knowing why he was so dismissive of me when he was always ready to talk to my brothers.
I'm thankful Jade took it seriously when one of the producers confided in her; she wouldn't tell me who so they wouldn't get fired. Jade dragged me to a doctor. I was diagnosed with Endometriosis. Doctors started me on a Hormonal contraceptive. Since then, the pain has been manageable.
"Why are you yelling at our daughter, Daniel?"
My mother slams down her cup of coffee. "Look at the way she's dressed, Aislin. She's fifteen! She's supposed to be going to school to learn, not seduce boys. She's naive, thinking the way she's dressed isn't distracting."
"Boys can't focus or control themselves when a girl comes to school wearing an outfit meant for the clubs. A girl like Catarina should dress for success in the boardroom, not the bedroom. It will help her productivity and boost her confidence. So, one day she will grow into a woman of educated status."
"So, you're saying our daughter is too dumb to learn because she's showing skin? Are you serious right now, Daniel?"
"Aislin, that isn't what I am saying. Clean your ears out, woman."
"Oh, so now you are calling me a liar."
'I never said you were lying, Aislin!"
"Oh, really, Daniel? Cause I heard you call our daughter a dumb slut. Who is supposed to be responsible for controlling the hormones of every single male classmate."
"Don't be dramatic, Aislin."
"I'm not. You are being a misogynistic prick. A girl is never responsible for dressing down so a boy can focus. Her body isn't an object or something she should hide in shame; she shouldn't have to protect herself from out-of-control boys; boys need to be responsible for their actions, phrases, and manners. They need to be taught boundaries, consent, and responsibility. Their education is their job. If they can't focus on school because a girl's shoulder is bare, or a collarbone or a breast top is flashed, then they need to be reprimanded, not the girls shamed. Their actions have consequences. Cat is dressed perfectly fine for a fifteen-year-old girl attending a performing arts school. She's not a normal fifteen-year-old girl, Daniel. She's a working actress, a reality TV star. A Performer."
"Not in my house; she isn't."
"Well, this ain't just your home now. We're married. We co-parent these kids. I work my ass off so we can have the million-dollar mansion; it isn't your salary paying for this stuff or these cars. Don't you dare forget that, Daniel?"
"Oh, now you want to be a parent when the cameras are around. How convenient, Aislin."
"What is that supposed to mean, Daniel?"
"It means exactly how it sounds. Aislin, you spend months away from home, leaving me in charge of these kids. Now you want to contribute to the conversation because your little reality show is filming this month."
"Little reality show? Beverly Hills Dynasty is the number one rated show on TV; it's the most streamed show in the world for ten years straight. This little show provides you with the comfortable life you like, the country club memberships so that you can play golf every weekend. Don't you dare try to fault me for having a goddamn career, you son of a bitch!"
"I'm not faulting you for having a career, Aislin. I'm faulting you for being a crappy mother!"
My dad angrily throws the coffee cup at her head, and she screams, moving to the side as the boys all leap out of their chairs, hurrying over to where I stand, my arms crossed over my chest. Anger flowed through my veins. The cup shattered against the wall; coffee splashed down the wall in brown waves steaming flying off the wall. "You love these damn trophies more than your kids!" He points to the display case where all of mom's Emmy's, Golden Globe awards, Academy Awards, MTV awards, and Grammy's sit in golden views of excellence. "These are your real babies!"
"Yup, Aunt Caitlin was right. Hollywood is not America." Sutton mutters. "I wonder how long it will take her to go to my mental illness."
"Probably, after she tells the world I am still a virgin," I mutter back, feeling my cheeks heat in anger seeing the cameraman John turn to get a better angle. The cameras make me sick, but I can do nothing about them. My mom signed us all up to be reality TV stars before I was even born.
"You want to condemn me for having a fucking career and act like you're the parent of the fucking year. Look in the mirror, asshole. Our kids are screwed up! You want to take the father of the year award. That's a joke. So, tell me, Mr. Daddy of the century, when are you planning to admit Sutton needs mental help? He's sick, damn it! You're so in denial you can't see that he's been slipping for years! Sutton is euphoric on some days and has a short temper on others. You can't tell me you don't notice how he babbles and subject hops. Or he has insomnia; we caught him sneaking into the house at one am on a school night. No explanation as to where he's been. Yet he still feels energized. You won't admit it, but he's on drugs! I know the signs! His teachers have called us to the school twenty-seven fucking times because he has trouble focusing on tasks. He has been expelled from two schools, Daniel! Because he was caught having sex with girls in the locker room!"
"None of it matters to you. Nope, not as long as Sutton brings home state and national football, baseball, and basketball titles!"
"I win, Cat," Sutton mutters into my ear, grinning. I sigh, handing him a twenty-dollar bill. "Asshole."
"Fine, No comment Daniel. Let's talk about your favorite person to bully in this house. Our daughter. Our only daughter. Do you think that she will give it up to any boy who winks at her because Cat dresses in short dresses?"
"Grow up. She's a virgin. Cat isn't even thinking about boys. All she cares about is her career. My daughter is career driven, smart, and hard-working since she was three years old and booked her first theater role. She's been unstoppable. Cat has been the driver. I have never pushed her into this. She has shown she's wanted to do this,"
"Cat has adapted to the rashness of this industry, going to an audition on a moment's notice, or tape one at night, or taking a leave of absence to go on an eight-week film shoot. She sacrificed her childhood to achieve this height. So don't you dare take this way from her or act like it means nothing? It means every damn thing! All the hard work she is doing now, these small roles she's taking, and making legendary will be the ladder to her success. I am telling you, Daniel, our daughter has something special. She will be a star! I will not let you tear her down."
"Yup, my life is officially over now. The entire school, fuck the entire world, will now know I am a virgin."
I turn on my heels, stomping up the steps feeling tears rush over the brim of my eyes.
"Cat."
"Hey, Cat, can you give us a comment? How do you feel about your parents fighting? How does this affect your mentality on the last day of the semester?" "Is it true you are still a virgin?" "Why are you still a virgin at nearly sixteen?"
Katie Malathion, the executive producer, follows me with a mic trying to get a statement out of me. How does she think it makes me feel? Sometimes these people ask the dumbest shit. My entire body is shaking; my stomach is turning. "Good job starting world war three, Catarina."
Sutton hisses at me as we make it up the spiral Corinthian column, sweeping steps, the marble clicks under my heels. "You maybe be a virgin, but dad's right. Keep dressing that way. You'll end up pregnant by age sixteen."
"Shut up. For all we know, you have little spawns already existing in this world."
"No way, I know how to strap it on."
"You sure don't know how to sweet talk a woman, jackass." I move towards my room, but Sutton's body slams me into the wall, his face changing to a fit of red rage. "Stop it, Sutton! You're hurting her!" Rylee cries out, trying to pull our brother off me. Sutton is inches away from my face. I can smell his lucky charm milky breath which is mixed with vodka. "Off your medication, are we? Acting pretty erratic for six am in the morning. Carefully lucky, or I might have to let our lovely parents know how far you've slipped." Of course, the camera gets all of this.
"Watch your mouth, little girl. You can't hang with the big kids, big star or not. Your still my little sister, and I know how to bring you to your knees."
He punches me in my stomach hard. I double over, groaning. Rylee throws his arms around me, helping me into my room. "He's an asshole. Cat." I collapse on my bed, hearing Rylee slam my door and lock it, keeping Katie and the crew out for at least a few moments. Finally, alone from the frenzy downstairs, I let a few tears slide down my cheeks. I can't swallow my pain or hide my sadness. My dad and brother think I am some naive, immature child who will give myself a way to the first boy who notices me.
It hurts.
Not because they are calling me names. Because they are correct, I am immature and naive. All my friends have already kissed a boy or a girl. They know the basics about sex and body parts. I know nothing. I've never even had a boy tell me I'm pretty, except Robbie, and he's creepy. I barely know what sex is, I've tried to research it, but it's confusing.
Who do I ask without looking stupid? I talk harshly to my brother, but I don't even know how babies are made or where they come from. All I know are the jokes Jade has made about Sutton, and I know Jade is sexually active because she's told me she is, but what is sexually active? The answer escapes me. They are making me feel naive, like a baby.
The memory of this morning fades as I look around my classroom; I resign to my fate, looking down at the outfit I choose after the fight this morning. Blinded by tears when I ruffled through my closet, I pulled out the first outfit I could get my trembling fingers around, a unicorn onesie. Yup, my fate is sealed. "Remember, Cat, actors get paid to play parts. Actors don't have to like the parts they play." Jade whispers into my ear as she presses the pacier to my lips. I glare at her and bite her finger a little as I bite down; she growls but doesn't whimper; my teeth don't break the skin. I can't complain about being held by her though it feels nice. Eighteen-inch biceps are no joke.
Today it isn't just her arms, I notice, though. It's her chest that rises and falls with every breath. Her breasts look fantastic today. I'm not sure what she did, but they look fuller.
"Action!"
Mr. Sikowitz screams out, scaring me. I jump a little; thankful Jade is quick to respond and cradle me, so I don't fall.
Tori: "Well, we're stuck here for the night because someone forgot to book the hotel."
Jade: "Oh, you're blaming me for this?"
Tori: "Well, I can't blame the baby. Can I?"
I wave my closed fists around, making tiny whimpering noises. Indicating I am the baby. As if any here could ever forget that Cat Valentine is the baby of the group.
Jade: "Why not, honey; you seem so good at blaming everybody else except yourself."
Tori: "Excuse me?"
Jade: "You heard me, honey. Your idea was to feed our baby bottle formula; now, she's underdeveloped. Even after all the decades of research, breast milk has been proven to be the best nutrition for babies with its nearly perfect mix of easily digested vitamins, protein, and fat."
"I even showed you a study about it in the July 2017 JAMA Pediatrics, which has shown that beneficial bacteria from the mother colonize the baby's gut, helping the infant establish a healthy microbiome — bacteria in the intestine that help fight disease throughout life. Because the bacteria are unique to mother and baby, the establishment of the microbiome has been called nature's first personalized medicine and cannot be replicated in formula."
Tori: "Carrying out studies on breastfeeding makes no sense! Would anybody research the benefits of breathing, chewing, hearing, and passing stool? The formula provides babies with the nutrients they need to grow and thrive. The same way breastfeeding does, except it takes half the time. There's no pumping, no wasting time bottling the milk. No worry about being uncomfortable or what if the baby doesn't latch. A breastfeeding schedule or the need to pump breast milk during the day can make it harder for some moms to work, run errands, or travel."
Jade: "Well, why should you worry about any of that? I am the mother. I would be the one who would have to worry about scheduling all that. You're just the daddy."
Tori: "Oh, just the daddy, that's all I am now to you?"
I try to imagine how a baby would feel hearing their parents fighting. It's easy to know the feeling since I go through it whenever my parents are in the same room. Except a baby can't yell back or run to their room. They are stuck in the middle of warring parents. Afraid and unsure of what is going on, all they know is the loving, calm voices that soothe them are now loud and scary. I close my eyes, tightening my fists. Allowing the pain from this morning brought tears to my eyes, and I made my lower lip tremble and cry loudly.
Jade bounces me on her hip. "Hush now, shhhh... it'll be okay, sweetie. Daddy doesn't mean to be a prick. He just is. You're a sweet, beautiful bundle of joy. Our innocent daughter. We love you, little one." Jade kisses the top of my head, rubbing my back. I sniffle, letting a few more tears fall.
The rest of the scene goes by quickly, and finally, we are sitting in our seats. My legs are sore from being spread across Jade's hips for so long, so I rub them breathing out slow deep breaths. "Achoo." Jade sneezes twice, blowing her nose and coughing into her arm. Her cheeks once again turned brightly in a feverish state. "Cat. You did a beautiful job playing the baby. You make it look effortless. This is how an actor is supposed to make acting seem class. Effortless. Give thought to your character. Did anyone see what Cat did in that scene?"
"Yeah, she played herself as a baby who dresses in a unicorn onesie. No acting necessary." Jake Townes laughs. "Incorrect, Mr. Townes. You should pay attention in class instead of insulting your classmates who consistently perform in the top ranks of the entire school. Last time I checked, you were endangered of failing this class. Keep acting like a jackass, and I will have no remorse signing your expulsion recommendation." The class, oh and ah, as Jake blushes, glaring at me. Mr. Sikowitz then adds injury to insult literally by throwing the empty coconut at Jake's head.
"Can anyone tell me what I am referring to?"
"Yes, Beck."
"You are talking about how Cat used her limited tools in expressing a baby's frustration. Babies can't speak or run, they have limited ways of communicating, but they can sense fear or unusual activity, so Cat closed her fists, shook them, whimpered, and let her tears fall. She fussed in Jade's arms. She contributed to the scene without the need for dialogue."
"Perfect, Beck." the bell rings. I feel a little better having been noticed for being an actress. "don't let your ego get too high, baby. The rest of us know the truth you are a loser. Nobody here likes you, Cat. You are only here because your mom is a reality TV star; the school wants good publicity. You can't act. You're ugly. Fat. Your hair looks like a cherry bomb exploded all over it. You going to cry now, baby?"
"No, she isn't because she knows these words mean nothing coming from a loser like you, Jake. But I know who will cry in two seconds if you don't get the fuck out of here. Give you two guesses. The first clue will be my fist connecting with your face. When you're peeing on the ground yourself, you'll get the answer right away."
Jake scurries away at the sight of Jade slamming her fist into her open palm. "Wow, everyone sees me as a little kid, don't they, Jade?" "Achoo." she blows her nose, turning red from being blown so much. Layers of sweat had broken out on her forehead. "Why would you say that, Cat?" My eyes prickle with tears as we head out of the room. Uneasiness sweeps over me. Jade has real worries to worry about, like her health. I'm being silly with my feelings. Kids are cruel, I know, and my parents are not the sanest people, so why should I give any of these people the sanctification of letting them get to me?
"Cat, we're best friends. In the job description, best friends must listen to each other's problems, big or small. We don't judge. We care, and I don't need a manual to tell me to care; I care because you are my best friend, and I love you with all my heart."
"I don't want to waste your time or energy, Jade. You're sick. I know it's taken everything you have to get through each class."
"Yes, it is, but Cat, you are never a waste of my time or energy."
"I get sick of everyone seeing me as a baby. I'll be sixteen tomorrow."
"No one thinks you are a baby Cat."
"Everyone does, Jade. Jake. Mr. Sikowitz, the kids in the halls who snicker when I walk by, pointing at my outfit. My parents think I am naive and a little girl who can't protect herself. My brother thinks I am a slut, whatever that word means. See, I am a baby. I don't even know what the word slut means, and all the teens use it. I don't know anything about sex or kissing."
"Even you treat me like a baby Jade."
"I do not, Cat."
"Bullshit, Jade. Color the pretty tiger Cat." "Or my personal fucking favorite, Jade. Thank you for this one. It's seared in my memory. Cat's a pet. No one takes her seriously." "You're annoying, Cat. You're too young to understand what the grownups are saying."
"Okay, you're right, Cat. Sometimes I am a bitch. That's not only for you, though. It's my nature. Cat, I am a terrible person to most people. I won't insult you like I do other people, but because I don't use strong words, it comes off like I am treating you like a baby. I am sorry. It's not what I intend to do."
"Cat. As for our classmates, we're teenagers, and the respect imbalance is crucial. We're rebellion. We don't like differences. Most grownups treat us as invalid, so we vent our frustrations on each other. Growing up is hard. We have so much to explore: sexuality, passion, career goals, friendships, puberty our futures. There's a lot of responsibility on our shoulders. Not everyone can handle it."
"So, my peers are afraid of their emotions and take it out by treating me as if I am a baby?"
"Partly. Cat. Yes. Kids are superficial. There's also a pressure to fit into a mold, especially here in LA. We grow up faster, we think we are cooler because we act cooler, and we mature faster in our bodies because many of us have unlimited money to get plastic surgery, hire personal trainers and start dieting earlier; a lot of our peers come from money, so they think it makes them special."
"Parties out here aren't pizza and poolside. They are penthouse soirees or fundraisers where kids don't think twice about dropping a thousand. They can alter how a person thinks, act, and feels, especially if you become addicted too young. Many of our peers are using drugs or drinking before they are thirteen. You make poor choices because you aren't ready to handle the consequences of your choices, which got you into bad situations."
"Some of our classmates think of you as a threat, Cat. You are someone who has never lost her childlike innocent you love unicorns, rainbows, and puppies; you embrace your imagination. You don't let the fear of people's opinions affect the choices you want, like your red-velvet hair. You saw the color somewhere, once fell in love with it, and you dyed it. You want to wear a unicorn PJ outfit to school; you did it. Truthfully Cat. I am a little jealous cause you are rocking it. You connect with kids. Something most teens are afraid to do because they are afraid of being viewed as a child themselves."
"You don't let the world see you when you are upset. You hide behind a beautiful smile. There's never a day when you aren't dancing, clapping, and singing. Being silly, kids don't know how to show that they respect it because it would make them look weak. So, they bully you or try to make you feel small."
"You honestly think so, Jade?"
"Yeah, Cat. I do, cause honestly, if you weren't my best friend, if I didn't know every inch of your beautiful heart. You would be my perfect target to bully. You already established what a big bitch I can be, so take it from a bully's point of view. Scorpions strike to kill, and I never miss the opportunity to make a kid feel smaller because it gives me power over how crappy I feel most days."
Another coughing spell overtakes Jade's body, so we stop to let her calm down. I open my bottle of water and hand it to her. She nods as a thank you as she takes a sip. I feel blessed to have Jade as my best friend, so I lean against the wall next to her. "Thank You. Jade." we remain silent for a few minutes waiting for her chest to stop seizing. "you're welcome. Cat. As far as your parents. There are so many reasons they act like assholes. Sometimes they regret the mistakes they make and fear we will repeat them. They want to protect us. They can't admit the baby they created, nurtured, and loved is growing up with her feelings, thoughts, and dreams. You don't need their hands to cross the street anymore or help to tie your shoes. You are a young woman making money maturing in body, mind, and soul."
"It's hard to believe that time flew by for parents. The fear of letting go is tremendous. Because now the choices you make are the consequences you have to face. They can't protect you; a parent's job is to protect and love. Sometimes they forget the love part because they focus on the protection part."
"How did you get so wise, Jade?"
"I lost my mom when I was twelve, Cat. That changes you. My mom knew she was dying, so she tried to fit a lifetime of lessons into the short time we were given. I paid attention. I remembered. Because I knew she wouldn't be around to give me the advice when I knew I would need it."
Jade's hands grasp mine. "I'll teach you whatever you want to know, Cat, about sex, growing up, maturity, love, and kissing. No question is too dumb. Kids are innocent, Cat. It's natural, but we lose some of that innocence as we grow. Don't be in a rush to shake off those colored glasses. I wish I still had mine."
The sudden contact with her skin sends butterflies rushing through my stomach. Her skin is so soft, so warm. Why am I having butterflies when she's touching me? She's a woman. I am supposed only to feel this way when a boy handles me. Robbie's the only guy who has ever touched me, except on screen. Everyone knows on-screen kisses; touches don't count it's acting.
Can butterflies come in the form of gratitude? Jade's eyes bury themselves deep into mine. I suddenly discover my lips are dry. I taste the stale scent of iron which makes me nauseous. Crap, I bit through my lower lip. My throat is dry, but I am afraid I will choke if I try to swallow. What is wrong with me today? Is this how growing up is supposed to feel so confusing? So scary and unbalanced?
Maybe she's right. I should hold onto my innocence a little longer. I'm overtaken by the sudden feelings of dizziness, nausea, tunnel vision, and hot flashes; I can't focus on even Jade's eyes.
I have a ton of adrenaline and can't keep my fingers still. They keep twisting themselves around Jade's fingers, and I know she notices. My knees are weakened, and I can't stand without leaning against the wall. My heartbeat is too fast. It leaves me gasping for air. I feel like cotton is stuffed into my ears. I can't hear her words; my vision is blurry my face is distorted. It's terrifying. I don't know what's happening. I legit thought I was going blind when my vision went black, and, in a panic, I stumbled, hearing myself gasp.
"Cat!" Jade's voice rises in a panic. Her arms reach out for me as I feel my legs collapsing. "Jadeyyyy, I'm sorry, but I feel pretty dizzy… and can't see. Shit. I think I am passing out." My body tumbles forward into her arms which are warm and inviting. My vision becomes blackened.