Chapter Four: Hand Me Down
I awoke suddenly and panicked when I realized Spencer was nowhere in sight. I sat up quickly, scanned the room in alarm and jumped out of bed when I didn't see Spence. I started to bolt towards the door to the hall when I saw a light under the closed door of her bathroom. My heart immediately quit running the Boston Marathon and slowed back to normal. I casually walked over to the door, like I wasn't just scared to death and I knew she was there all along, and knocked.
"Spence?" I asked softly.
"In here" She replied, her voice slightly muffled and hesitant.
I slowly opened the door and found Spence standing in front of the mirror in nothing but her bra and pj pants. She had her hand resting on her stomach, touching her scar. And she was staring at her reflection with a pained face.
"Does it hurt?" I asked softly, leaning against the doorway. She shook her head no.
"I hate it." She whispered, glaring at her reflection.
I took a few steps into the small room so that I was standing behind her. I placed my hand on her back, and she closed her eyes. "What's wrong?" I asked.
After a few moments, she took a deep breath and said "It makes me feel…ugly."
I slid my arms around her waist as she closed her eyes. I knew she was fighting back tears. I wasn't about to let her cry over this. Unacceptable, it was. Make Spencer feel better, I must. Stop watching those Star Wars re-runs, I must. Jesus.
"You're not ugly. You will never be ugly." I said, squeezing her waist gently.
"But that's how I feel." She whispered, shaking her head.
"That's not how I feel. You are beautiful, Spencer Carlin. Don't you believe otherwise." I whispered, firmly against the side of her head.
I felt her hands slide over mine. Warmth immediately spread through my every pore as she pushed my hands up to her stomach, and looked my reflection in the eye. Her gorgeous baby blue eyes bored into mine with a scared, yet daring, gleam. She pushed my hands flat against her silky smooth skin, and I could feel the indenture of the scar against my palm. It disturbed her normally flawless skin, the way a ripple disturbs a calm lake. I closed my eyes momentarily, and then returned her gaze with a passion. She traced her delicate fingers up and down my arms for several seconds, and then returned her hands to their resting place on top of mine. My heart began running its marathon again as she took a deep breath and whispered in an almost desperate whimper:
"Prove it."