Warning: TFIOS spoilers … proceed with caution
Leslie, Valerie and I were lounging on the beach.
"You know what's fun?" Leslie asked suddenly, sitting up to look at the two of us.
"What?" I answered without moving. The heat was making me sluggish and, besides, I was on vacation. I deserved not to move for a little while. But as soon as that thought hit me, I had to jolt to my feet and move around. Thinking about not moving had dragged me back to the cell, where I really couldn't move anywhere. I scuffed around in the sand, assuring myself that I was free to do as I pleased and there was no shackle and chain around my ankle.
"Tattoos," Leslie said seriously.
"Tattoos?" I blurted. "Are you nuts?"
"Not at all!" Leslie exclaimed. "I've been thinking about getting one to represent Gavin for a long time now."
"And now is the time to do that?" I squawked.
"Absolutely," Leslie said decisively. "Valerie?"
"Mmm?" Val murmured.
"Do you know any good tattoo shops?" Leslie questioned.
"Oh yeah. The guy who did mine is great; everyone in his shop is great."
"I want a tattoo." Leslie announced.
I shook my head, but if it was what she wanted, who was I to deny her? "All right. You book an appointment and I'll go with you."
"Martin, my artist, might be free. Or one of his other artists. I can give him a call for you, if you'd like," Valerie offered.
"Oh, that would be great!" Leslie squealed. "Thank you, Valerie."
"No problem."
As Valerie made her phone call, Leslie faced me.
"You should get one."
I raised my eyebrows. "Uh, why?"
"I dunno, 'cause tattoos are awesome and because they can mean leaving the past behind and moving onto new beginnings, all kinds of things. You can get one to represent your newfound freedom!"
"I'll pass on the tat, thanks," I told her. "I don't want to get my first tattoo on a whim."
"You should do something whim-y," Leslie argued.
"I don't think 'whim-y' is a word."
"Don't judge me, Sam Manson." Leslie scolded.
"Don't sound like such a mom!"
"I am a mom!" Leslie reached out and touched my hair. "What about a haircut and colour?"
I touched my hair on the other side of my head. It had grown long, past my shoulder blades. In my youth I had kept it moderately short, but had decided to grow it out after my suicide attempt. It had been a change about me; something impermanent that I could control myself. Maybe it was time to change it up again.
"What colour were you thinking?" I asked slowly.
"Why, your signature one, of course!" Leslie gasped, and pulled on the strap of my dark purple bikini. "You could do it all purple or black and purple … It would all look hot as hell."
I ran a hand through my locks. "I think it's a good idea," I finally said.
"Good choice," Leslie responded with a crisp nod.
(-.-)
My head was covered in foils. Bored, I tapped my foot against the hairdresser's chair. In the mirror, I watched Leslie lift her shirt to look at her ribs, where she had Gavin's name tattooed on her. Valerie was flipping through an outdated fashion magazine.
"Damn," Val muttered, checking the time on her cell phone. "You should be almost done."
"Almost!" The hairdresser shouted from the other end of the salon. "Twenty more minutes!"
I could sit for twenty more minutes. Really, I could. My phone vibrated in my pocket.
Tucker: Heyyyyy
Me: Hey! What's up?
Tucker: Not much. I'm bored.
Me: aw, no friends?
Tucker: No :/ Mikey's in class, Danny's in the ghost zone and Jazz has physical therapy. I'm alllllll by myself
Me: that's dangerous
Tucker: you have no idea ;)
Me: …
Me: anyway …
Tucker: what are you doing? I haven't seen you for awhile
Me: Oh, I took a quick trip with a friend. I'll be home next week
Tucker: damn so you cant even hang out
Me: sorry to disappoint
Tucker: you are a disgrace
Me: I'm wounded
Tucker: that was the point.
Tucker: so what is this trip about anyway
Me: I'm trying to reclaim my life. Vlad cant have any part of it and neither can that damn cell. I didn't want to play a victim and my parents thought it was too soon for me to go away again but if not now, when?
Tucker: I totally get that. I wish my parents felt the same way. My mom is acting like Im three years old again and I need her for everything. I love the woman but I'm starting to get sick of the hovering
Me: that bad?
Tucker: that bad.
Me: ouch.
Tucker: oooh yes
Me: brb
I slid my phone away as the hairdresser approached me. She led me over to one of the washing chairs. She took the foils out of my hair, my incredibly short hair, and then leaned me back under the flow of water. She massaged the colour out of my scalp, added conditioner, and then she worked that out of my hair too. Finally, she pulled me back up to a sitting position and took me back to her chair. I averted my eyes to the floor – I didn't want to see the finished product until it was completely dry.
As the hairdresser picked up the hairdryer, I looked nervously as Leslie and Valerie. Leslie gave me an excited thumbs up, while Valerie smiled encouragingly. I smiled back at them as the hairdresser put the hairdryer down and added some product to my hair … and then promptly held my breath as the hairdresser spun me around to face myself in the mirror. She picked up a handheld mirror and positioned it at the back of my head so that I could see all of my hair.
"You like?" She asked.
"I do!" I exclaimed.
My hair was cut in a boy-style, far above my ears. The hairdresser had added gel to my hair so that it looked just like bedhead. As if the style wasn't enough to make me swoon, the colour was absolutely perfect. It was very dark; it would likely still look black if there weren't any lights shining on my hair. But as it was, my hair looked obviously purple, and I loved it.
"Thank you," I told the hairdresser.
"You're welcome," she told me with a smile.
"New hair, new you!" Leslie celebrated. "Now, what are we going to do with you?"
I shrugged.
"Well …" Valerie suggested, "We could go to a party."
Leslie raised her eyebrows, and then looked down at Gavin, who was sleeping in his stroller. "If Momma will look after the baby … and Sam is in, of course."
"Uh …" I muttered, trying to think, "We can go for a while, I guess."
"Great!" Leslie grinned. "Just let me call Mom and then we'll get changed out of bathing suits and we'll go."
"What a hefty plan," Valerie muttered, as we left the salon. Leslie was a few steps ahead of us, talking on her phone to her mother.
"Leslie's kind of in your face," I admitted.
"Sometimes she kind of reminds of Paullina," Valerie confessed, "but then it goes away quickly, and I don't know what I think of her."
"She was a Paullina, and then she found out she was pregnant. The father ditched out on her, and she completely turned her life around."
"Aw, so sad," Valerie cooed. "Well, at least she's changed."
"And all the better for it."
"You inspire good things in people," Valerie commented, wrapping her arm around my shoulders.
"What can I say? I'm magic."
"You're something."
(-.-)
"Whew!" Leslie exclaimed, popping from her hotel bathroom into the room itself. "Could you tell I had a baby less than a year ago?"
Valerie shook her head, while I told her 'no'. It wasn't us being nice; it was absolutely true. Leslie looked as slim and fit as she always did. She was wearing a low-back neon, in-your-face pink lace dress with sheer cut-outs. I didn't know how she could feel comfortable in something so revealing, but Leslie knew she looked good and flaunted it. Me; I was wearing a plain dress with suspender straps that went to my knees. It dipped low on my chest, not that that I had anything to show off. I'd had to do some quick shopping before I left, considering that my drastic weight loss left me too small for most of the clothing in my closet.
"Good!" Leslie crowed with a decisive nod at herself in the mirror. "Let's rock and roll!"
The party was only a quick car ride from our resort. Valerie had borrowed Maria's car in order to get us to the party, and had said that she would DD for us, if we wanted. I didn't know if I would be drinking tonight – maybe a sip or two – but I definitely wasn't going to be getting drunk. My first and last experience with alcohol aired on the side of hellish, and I didn't want to repeat it.
We arrived at the small house where the party was being held. There were already people crowded on the lawn; Spanish music blared from the house. Valerie parked the car and we all climbed out.
"We should probably stick pretty close to Valerie," I said to Leslie as we entered the house. "We don't really know anybody here, and we don't speak the language."
"Oh, don't worry about it. It's just a harmless party. We just won't leave the house without one another, okay?"
"Sounds like a good plan to me," Valerie agreed.
The main body of the party was in the living room and kitchen; the rooms flowed into each other nicely. There were snacks and alcohol set up in the kitchen and people were dancing with one another in the living room, most of them had cups in their hands. Valerie was pulled away by a friend, so I followed Leslie into the kitchen. I didn't want to be alone. She mixed herself a drink, and we leaned against the counter talking while she sipped at it.
She had just placed the cup down, when two boys came up to us. I tried to shrink behind Leslie, to make myself less noticeable.
"Hi," Leslie said slowly.
"You," one of them pointed at me and I squeaked.
"Sorry, his English isn't great; he's not the brightest bulb in the box, you know …" the other one said. "What he meant was, we know who you are."
"What?" I squeaked again.
"You're the girl who was kidnapped," the second one explained. "Who disappeared in the middle of summer and reappeared on New Years Eve with no explanation."
"How do you know that?" Leslie asked, aware that I was speechless.
"My brother lives in America now. He tells me about the news he finds interesting. You are that girl, right?"
"Right," I confirmed, my voice wavering.
"My name is Andrés and this is my friend Luis." He smiled at me.
"Hi," I told him.
"Would you like to dance?" He asked me.
"I'm involved with someone," I told him immediately.
"It'll be friendly," Andrés assured me.
"Let's go," Leslie encouraged me. "Luis and I will be right beside you guys, so it's not a problem."
"See?"
I nodded and followed him out to the dance floor. I'll admit, it did feel nice to be with a crowd who were all focused on the same thing: the rhythm of the music. I didn't understand the lyrics that the people around me were shouting, but that hardly mattered to me. I was happy to be along for the ride. Andrés put his hands on my shoulders.
"Don't want to get too suggestive," he told me.
I smiled at him and placed my hands back on his shoulders. Sweat began to gather on my brow as I danced. I didn't know how to do anything but waltz, but I didn't care that I looked ridiculous. I was letting go, and it was wonderful.
Until I got caught in a crowd of people and I forgot how to breathe. Until l lost sight of Leslie and even Andrés. Until someone's hand brushed against me in a suggestive way and I felt my throat closed up. I forced my way through the crowd of people who continued on with their party-going, oblivious to my panic. I burst onto the front doorstep and breathed in the humid night air.
Tears began to coat my cheeks as I realized that, try as I might, I was not okay; I was nowhere near okay. I could geographically run from the cell, from the fear that Vlad and Elliot had conjured in me, and it would follow me. Someday, I might be as I was before, but I was trying to force too much, too soon.
I picked up my cell phone.
Me: hi
Danny: hey. How are you?
Me: not good
Danny: what's happening?
Me: when do you think we'll forget about what happened in there?
Danny: total honesty?
Me: that's what you promised me
Danny: never.
Me: fuck.
Danny: I know that it'll get better
Me: I wish it was better now.
Danny: The world is not wish granting factory.
I was distracted from my panic. I bit my lip, wanting to continue the conversation about captivity, and wanting to forget about it all at once. Finally, I had to ask.
Me: Have you read The Fault In Our Stars?
Danny: AUGUSTUS WATERS DID NOT DESERVE TO DIE
Me: omg. I thought you didn't read
Danny: Jazz has the audiobook and since it's her favourite, I gave it a listen.
Danny: and I cried
Danny: I cried over a fictional character.
Me: Augustus Waters has that effect on people
Danny: nah, it wasn't Augustus … Well kinda
Me: what do you mean?
Danny: I cried over Isaac
Me: why?
Danny: idk. The way Isaac loved Augustus and looked at Augustus just reminded me of Tuck
Me: and you're augustus in this scenario
Danny: only if you're Hazel
Danny: jk … mostly
Danny: anyway, Isaac just showed such love and devotion I mean the thing with the robot eyes? Come on!
Me: but then he said he'd put them in anyway
Danny: I don't think he would, honestly.
Me: why?
Danny: I wouldn't.
Danny: but maybe that's just because I have freaky ghost powers and I need a challenge
Me: hilarious.
Danny: feeling a bit better?
Me: yeah, thanks. Um, I should go find Leslie but text me in the morning?
Danny: absolutely I will. Text again if you need me.
Me: :-)
Danny: :-)
So, I think we can all tell what I was reading at the time I was writing these chapters.
I don't own anything recognible. Thanks to my betas Forever Sky (and apologies for spoiling TFIOS).
~TLL~