Thirteen's POV:
Everyone is staring at you after your last statement. They have no idea what you were talking about. They think you're a little bit crazy, and maybe you are. You thought your flashcard gave it away, but you suppose "I did everything in my power to be a different person, to be the beautiful doctor that no one thought I could be" was slightly ambiguous.
You make eye contact with Taub. He knows what you meant.
"You meant that literally," House comments noticing you stare at Taub.
"I was nothing special before I came here," You shrug. You got average marks in school, you were your school's worst volleyball player, and you were stuck somewhere between average and ugly (probably closer to the latter).
In High School, your dad had let you get a nose job, thinking it might make you feel more confident. He felt guilty about your mother having torn you down, and worse that your little sister was growing up to be stunning. In college, you had managed to shed the thirty-five pounds of fat you'd gained during your tumultuous adolescence and a round of accutane had finally cleared your complexion. Then in med school, you'd moved from glasses to contacts, and a month before moving to Princeton, just two months before meeting House, you realized you were finally attractive. But, life still kind of sucked.
"Do you know how many plastic surgeries I used to do in a week? It's pretty common," Taub says. His indifference is a comforting reaction.
"It wasn't the breasts," House says, standing up, leaning over the desk, and squinting at you. You roll your eyes and button your blouse up higher.
"Rhinoplasty," You say, not liking the way everyone is staring at you or the sudden feel of your collar choking you. Cameron looks shocked and you feel a flash of hatred pass over you. You've always secretly resented the type of girls who were born beautiful, much like your mother and sister. You know Cameron's probably been adorable since birth, but you try to push the jealousy out of your head.
"He did a nice job," Taub comments. You can feel your cheeks turning red, and you miss the feeling of Kutner stroking your hair.
You feel like teenager again, all of a sudden. You remember being called terrible things in school, and coming home to hear worse from your mother. You remember once when you were nine and the boy you liked called you fat, you came home sobbing to your mother who told you that he was right.
Every time something got better or you changed a little bit you thought maybe you'd finally be pretty, but it only made things worse. You remember getting your braces off and thinking that now you'd have a nice smile, or when you'd gotten the nose job. You'd woken up feeling more uncomfortable than you had ever felt before, and once it healed nothing changed. You were just ugly with nice features.
You'd been surprised your first night at Princeton when you'd been hit on in the bar. You'd taken the guy home with you and never looked back. Your nights became a string of one-night stands because you liked the feeling of being wanted. If you're dad knew how you were living your life, he'd be ashamed.
Or worse, he'd see the way you looked now and be proud. You know that doesn't sound worse, but it would confirm that all people really care about was looks. And, seeing that from your own father would really hurt.
You do think about him sometimes, and Amy. You haven't seen her more than six times since you left for college. You avoided coming home from breaks like no other.
Amy has to be big now. In your head she's still twelve, but you know from the birthday cards you send every year that she's twenty now. You feel like a terrible person. You're a deadbeat daughter and sister.
And to make things worse no one knows you have a sister. No one really even knew about your dad until fairly recently. You remember telling Taub what a great dad he was while you were treating the father daughter pair with Mediterranean Familial Fever. You remember the way that little girl looked at you while she was numb. She reminded you of yourself. Yourself now that is, when you were her age every little thing still hurt.
"So you had a big nose? Big deal," Taub adds after an awkward silence.
"It wasn't just that." House comments. You look up at him. The thought that Lucas may have uncovered some old yearbook pictures briefly flashes through your mind, but you quickly dismiss it. House wouldn't have kept it a secret; he couldn't even keep your car lease a secret.
"I was ugly," You say. You still feel ugly, but you leave that part out.
"You were awkward, most kids are." Kutner says, scooting closer to you.
"You don't know the half of it." You sigh. You aren't speaking very loud, but everyone in the room is leaning in towards where you're sitting to hear you.
"I knew," Kutner says. You stare at him stunned for a moment.
"And you didn't share?" House says, annoyed. Foreman just looks confused.
"I googled you," He shrugs, "when we first met. I thought you were too pretty to have never modeled or anything." He looks embarrassed, so you don't push the issue.
"You're google search turned up more than my two hundred dollar an hour private eye?" House asks. He looks skeptical of Kutner, and you wish he could have just left the situation alone.
"Try adding in things like hometown or zip code." Kutner shrugs, sheepishly.
"What'd she look like?" House asks. Cameron shoots him a look.
"I had bad skin, and 80's hair, and a lot of baby fat." You practically yell at him, "Can we stop this now. I used to be ugly, okay?"
"How ugly?" House can't stop smiling.
"Shut the fuck up House," Kutner barks.
"It doesn't matter," Foreman says. You can tell all of this is making him feel uncomfortable. He's realizing he knew nothing about you, and clearly doesn't like how close you are with Kutner. But, really, he needs to grow up. Kutner is just a nice guy.
"You're living a lie," House says, preparing for a rant, but Taub spins around in his seat and cuts him off.
"You're the one who tried to kill someone." Taub spits out. You like how everyone is coming to your defense, it makes you feel like part of something here.
"But I'm not the one who actually did," House bites back. Chase looks up slowly, he rubs his temples and looks pensive – like he's not sure whether to punch House again or break down and cry.
Chase stands up, and you can tell shits about to go down. You almost wish the attention was back on you because even that would actually be better than a fight.