Chapter 16: Beautiful
Kaitlyn's POV
I'm reluctant to fall asleep, because I want to bask in these feelings – joy, serenity, safety – for as long as possible.
Fighting my drooping eyelids, I stroke Qīng between his ears as he lays his head on the edge of the sofa. My heart glows in my chest as I snuggle closer to him and he licks my face gently once. Reaching down to the floor, I grab my iPod and put my earphones in, wanting a soundtrack to this wonderful moment. I flick through a number of songs before settling on one that feels perfect. I lose myself in the singer's soulful voice before mouthing along to the chorus:
"She's talking to angels, counting the stars, making a wish on a passing car. She's dancing with strangers, falling apart, waiting for superman to pick her up, in his arms."
I suddenly huff a laugh through my nose. I've been doing a lot of that over my life; hoping, wishing, praying to anything that might hear me, waiting for things to get better, for someone to help me. And now, things have got better. I'm at Sky High, and I'm doing well there; I've found my home at that school, and my family among the people. I have so many friends – real friends – that truly want the best for me and celebrate my successes. And one friend in particular who is always there for me, helping me, taking care of me, picking me back up when I stumble.
I frown. I don't want to always be like that, though; always relying on other people to save me, the eternal Lois Lane. I want to be able to help myself, sort out my own problems. For one, I don't want to be too much of a burden on other people, but for another, I now hate that helplessness that has followed me around my entire life. I now have the skills and resources to change things, so I want to use that power, that energy, that's sparked to life inside me.
Pushing those thoughts from my mind for the moment, I enjoy some more music before fading blissfully off to sleep.
ЖЖЖ
When morning comes, for once I'm happy to wake up before my alarm. Around seven, I open my eyes peacefully, well-rested, to smile at Qīng, still beside me. He huffs happily, and his tail starts wagging behind him. Giggling softly, I free both my hands to fuss him, scratching his ears, head and the side of his neck. When he climbs onto the sofa to lie on top of me, I have to suppress my laughter so as not to wake Michelle and Warren. I gently fold my arms around his neck, hugging him to me as something inside my chest glows softly underneath him. Ten minutes later, soft footsteps tread slowly down the stairs, and Michelle carefully peers over the back of the sofa, smiling when she sees I'm awake before she grins and shakes her head at Qīng.
"That is painfully adorable," she says quietly.
I chuckle, beaming at Qīng and pressing my cheek into the top of his snout.
"What can I get you for breakfast, xiǎoxīng?" she asks me sweetly.
My face heats up happily, as it always does at her continued use of her nickname for me – "little star" – but I call after her. "Oh, no, don't worry about it, I can get it myse–."
As I go to push the corner of the blanket off me, Qīng puts his paw very decisively and pointedly on my hand, stopping me from pushing it back any further. At first, I just stare dumbfounded at him, but laughter quickly bubbles out of me at the weirdly human look of disapproval I receive from him. Michelle also stares between me and him.
"Did he just –?"
"Yes!" I laugh, and Michelle joins in.
Another sleepy voice joins us. "I always get worried when you two are laughing together unsupervised."
I glance up as Warren's face appears over the back of the sofa as he steps closer. He drops his hands from rubbing his still-glazed eyes. His skin is annoyingly perfect and smooth for someone who has just woken up, but the tangled mess his hair is in makes up for it; I've been worried for a while that his hair is perpetually so effortlessly gorgeous.
"Blame your dog for being adorable and hilarious," Michelle chuckles.
His eyes flick down to me, warmth blossoming in them as he takes in my face, then he smiles at Qīng on my chest. "So that's why he wasn't at my feet when I woke up. I can't believe he stayed here the entire night."
"It's because he's a good boy," I say, pressing my face against him again. "He only jumped up on me just now, but now he won't let me get out of bed."
Warren's eyebrows twitch together before he makes his way round the other side of the sofa. "You just don't have the heart to throw him off." He approaches us and makes to gently push Qīng off. "Come on, mutt, time for a run and to let Kaitlyn get ready."
But as his hand gets closer, Qīng playfully snaps at his fingers. Michelle and I start laughing again while Warren snatches his fingers back and stares wide-eyed at him, his own mouth spreading into a reluctant disbelieving smile.
"Wha–? Hey! Come on, Qīng, we've all got stuff to do!" He tries again, pulling at my blanket. Qīng yips at his hand, and lets out a delightfully stubborn grumble as he turns to flop pointedly onto his side on top of my chest and glares at Warren. His body jumps in time to my hearty laughs, but he isn't fazed. Tears unfortunately blur Warren's grin in my vision as he trades shocked glances with me, but his laugh is clear.
"He d–. He doesn't want me to get up!" I coo at Qīng, stroking his head.
"Well, tough luck, she has to, and so do you!" Warren tries to sound angry but completely fails. He snatches the corner of my blanket back, hoping speed will give him an edge, but Qīng reaches down and grabs the corner in his teeth to pull it back over me. The three of us roar with laughter, and Warren rests his forehead on his arm against the sofa, his shoulders shaking. Joy and companionship permeate the air in the house, and its warmth settles deep into my bones. Gasping for breath and wiping at the corners of my eyes, I turn fully towards Warren just as he lifts his head. His dark eyes are shining and bright with laughter, the corners crinkled joyfully. His smile is wide and uninhibited. His cheeks are red with mirth. And this whole gorgeous sight is only a hand-span away from me.
My breath catches in my throat, my laughter dying to quiet giggles as I stare at him with my heartbeat in my ears. His deep chuckles also lessen, his eyes widening to a startled expression as his cheeks fill with more colour. My eyes are immediately drawn to his lips.
I'd barely have to move and I would be kissing him.
Heat, edged with pain, blazes through my entire being. I tear my gaze away from his face to smile at Qīng, hopefully less shakily than it feels.
"Hey, Qīng, let's make a deal, okay? You let me get up in the mornings when I need to, and we can cuddle like this any time you want when I'm round here. How about that?"
He tips his ice-blue eyes up to look at me, narrowing them in a way that nearly makes me laugh again. I press my lips together to keep my expression as serious as I can. After a long moment, he pushes himself up from my chest and clambers down, then stands at the edge of the sofa, staring at Warren.
"Don't look at me like I was the one holding us up!" Warren glares at him. As he stands, I swear his eyes flick down to me quickly, and I silently curse myself as my face heats up again instinctively.
Shit, does he somehow know what I was thinking?
"Why don't you go and wash your hair now, Kaitlyn?" Michelle calls out, saving me from vowing to never show my face above the blankets again. "Then the bathroom will be free for Warren to shower when he gets back from his run."
"Sounds good," I mutter, pushing the blankets back and swinging my feet to the floor. Warren quickly looks away, clearing his throat, then whistles to Qīng, both of them bounding up the stairs. I frown in their direction, hurt by his haste to leave; I know I'm not exactly a picture fresh out of bed, but I don't think I'm that bad. Michelle, on the other hand, is staring after her son with a raised eyebrow and a strangely knowing smile. At my curious look, she simply smiles at me and winks, as if sharing a joke. I don't have the heart to say I don't understand, so I just smile back.
Michelle takes me upstairs to hand me a towel and her hair products, and I smile in thanks, setting things up in the bathroom. Staring at his bedroom door, for a long moment, I consider knocking so I can ask him what I did to upset him, but, in the end, I just sigh and close the bathroom door, locking it behind me.
Conscious of both time and Michelle and Warren's financial hardships, I wash my hair as quickly as I can. As I'm towel-drying it, I suddenly swear as something occurs to me that stupidly hadn't before; I probably don't have the time to dry my hair properly, and I'd feel bad using the electricity here anyway, given the amount of time and effort it takes to dry my hair with a hairdryer. I'll just have to dry my hair naturally, and resign myself to my natural birds-nest curls. Though, I wonder if I could control the way it dries better if I used my powers….
I wring as much excess water from my hair as possible, but leave the bathroom when I hear the front door open again; if Warren is back from his run, I don't want to keep him from showering. I smile at him as he takes his shoes off by the door when I come down the stairs, trying to temper my irritation that he's barely breathing hard and still looks effortlessly gorgeous in well-worn sweatpants and sleeveless top.
"There's a brush and a comb on the table for you, honey," Michelle beams at me as she busies herself in the kitchen.
"Thanks," I reply, picking up the brush to drag through my hair. "Weird request, I know, but can I use the washing-up bowl for a bit?"
She hands me the bowl with an easy, unquestioning smile. Setting it down on a surface in front of the mirror in the dining room, I narrow my eyes in thought at my reflection. After a few seconds of consideration – and a quick fuss of Qīng's head as he settles at my feet again – I carefully wind a strand of my hair around two fingers, then use my right hand to evaporate the water off the strand, mindful of keeping the water as cool as I can to not damage my hair. As I let the strand unravel, it's hard to judge whether my idea worked or not; it's been so long since I kept my natural hairstyle that I can't remember what it would look like if didn't do this. As an experiment, I dry another strand without winding it around my finger, and grimace in annoyance as it looks very similar to the one I did before. Sighing in defeat, I simply take all the water from my hair and dump it into the bowl, scowling as my hair defiantly kinks upwards.
"I wish drying my hair was as easy as that!" Michelle laughs and winks as I turn back to her, and I smile shyly as I hand her the bowl of water.
Heavy footsteps on the stairs claim our attention. Warren, changed into more regular clothes, swipes his hands over his face once before he catches sight of me and freezes, eyes wide.
"Whoa," he murmurs.
My face blazes red in embarrassment and shame, and grasp at my hair, desperately trying to smooth it down. "Ugh, I know, it's awful. There's no need to point it out so obviously."
He blinks, confused, then frowns. "Wait, you don't think it looks good?"
"Of course not! It's an ugly mess!" I roll my eyes. But Warren's weird expression – a mix of sadness and sympathy – makes me pause self-consciously, glancing at Michelle uncertainly. "Isn't it?"
"Who told you that, xiǎoxīng?" she asks quietly, a sort of sagely wisdom in her face and voice.
My shoulders curl forward and inward, and I rub the bottom of my T-shirt between my fingers. "P-people at Daisy Bank…and their group of friends at the elementary school."
She nods. "And what would you expect them to do the most: tell you the truth, or lie to you to deliberately undermine your confidence?"
A question said with such innocent curiosity, barely breathed into the room, and yet it rocks me to my core. I lean back heavily against the table, countless cruel comments and spat insults about my hair filling my ears, almost overwhelming me with the sneers and painful hair-pulling. A bump on my leg saves me from drowning, and I glance down to see Qīng nudge me again with his nose before gently licking my fingers, tightly clenched on the edge of the table. I smile down at him warmly, caressing his ear lovingly before nervously fidgeting with one of my curls. I carefully, cautiously, meet Michelle's eyes again.
"It's really okay?" I murmur. "It's not…. My curls aren't…ugly?"
Michelle slowly approaches me, heartbreak and something startlingly close to adoration in her dark eyes. She gently turns me back to the mirror and strokes my hair while smiling at me in the reflection.
"They're beautiful," she declares softly. "You're beautiful." She pauses meaningfully before looking over to the side. "Isn't she, honey?"
The face in the mirror instantly blazes red, and my head instinctively whips around to gawk wide-eyed at Warren, even if I'm scared of his reaction. He chokes quietly as he stares dumbfounded at his mom. When he catches me looking at him, he immediately averts his eyes, his red cheeks assuaging my hurt before it can properly take root. But as the silence stretches on, my doubts start to creep in again.
Michelle was just being nice. Telling a young woman they're beautiful is just a done thing, they don't have to mean it. It doesn't need to be true for it to be a nice thing to say.
"Yeah. She is."
I gasp as the familiar deep voice mumbles, my eyes snapping upward back to his face after automatically becoming downcast. He's still not looking at me, save for the tentative glances out of the corner of his eyes, but the deepened blush on his face and the awkward but undeniable sincerity of his voice is too much to ignore. He said I'm beautiful. And he actually seems to mean it. And so does Michelle. Could I…actually be beautiful?
Another thought suddenly occurs to me; Warren thinks I'm beautiful. My face begins to burn.
Michelle kisses the top of my head. "I've made bacon sandwiches for breakfast, let's eat while they're hot."
Warren raises an eyebrow at her, his cheeks slowly settling back to their normal colour. "What's the occasion?"
She grins. "I thought it would be a nice treat while Kaitlyn's round for her first breakfast with us."
He shrugs easily, probably unwilling to further question the provision of especially tasty food.
We happily take our seats at the table, each claiming our preferred condiments placed in the middle of the table. Michelle takes her ketchup, but I smile and gesture to Warren to go first as we both reach for the barbecue sauce. He smirks like he's happy about something, but I don't dare ask given our embarrassing indirect exchange a few minutes ago. We all laugh at Qīng's attempts to beg for a rasher of bacon, and how we all bravely resist his heart-wrenchingly pleading eyes.
To avoid the questions from my friends that would happen if they saw me at school but not on the bus, I make the difficult decision to leave early enough to catch my usual bus. As I'm collecting my things while the three of them watch and wait, Michelle suddenly speaks up, addressing Warren.
"Hey, honey, did you hear the Fair of Questionable Safety is back in Maxville this weekend?"
"Seriously?" he laughs.
She nods joyfully. "Want to go?"
I raise an eyebrow. "Uh, the what now?"
Warren chuckles again, turning to me. "It goes by loads of different names, depending on who's funding it, but it's a fair that has pretty much all the same rides every time, all very portable and very cheap. We kind of coined the name because you do actually sometimes fear for your life, depending on what ride you're on, because of how crap the safety measures and workmanship are."
"And you go there for fun?"
"We live on the edge, Kaitlyn," Michelle says dramatically before grinning and winking. "You in, Warren?"
"Obviously," he snorts.
"Kaitlyn, you want to join?"
I blink at her. "Oh. Uh. Are you sure?"
"Of course!" she cheers. "You're very welcome. It'll be fun with the three of us."
Fun. A fun, family-like day out. With Warren and Michelle. Just the thought of it spreads warmth through my chest.
"Yeah," I reply. "Yeah, I'd love to."
She beams. "Great! Just come here around ten on Saturday morning, and we can head there together."
"Awesome," I laugh. My eyes then widen as I catch sight of the time on the clock through the doorway. "Oh, crap! I've gotta go. Thank you both so much for letting me stay over. Bye!"
They both call out their goodbyes from the doorway as I sprint away cheerfully. Rejoicing and revelling in the freedom that comes with a brief powerful sprint, I wave my hand emphatically as I arrive at the bus stop just as Ron pulls up with a grin and a raised eyebrow.
"Didn't think I'd see the day when you nearly missed the bus going to school, Kait," Ron laughs as I catch my breath by his chair.
I nod in acceptance. "Yeah, sorry about that. I was having too much fun this morning and lost track of time."
He gives an easy shrug. "You made it, so no harm."
As I take my seat, I don't bother putting my music in this morning, memories of the last fifteen hours playing through my head instead, making me smile. Before I know it, Ethan, Zach and Magenta have got on and sat around me, followed by Layla and Will. Upon seeing me, Layla's eyes widen.
"Wow, Kaitlyn, your hair looks amazing! Did you do something special with it?"
Warren and Michelle's words echo in my ears, now accompanied by Layla's, and I blush.
"I was actually thinking the same thing, and should have said something earlier," Magenta nods, smiling. "You look great."
"Thanks," I murmur, pulling on a curl self-consciously. "Actually, the opposite is true; I've done less with it than I usually do. This is my natural hair."
"Well, you should absolutely leave it like that from now on. You look gorgeous!" Layla beams.
I blush harder, thanking her again. A mental image of Warren appears before me, smirking and with his eyebrow raised in a 'told you so' expression. I press my lips together to stop from smiling, and focus back on the conversations of the others.
Smartass.
Apologies this chapter is slightly shorter than usual; the morning took longer than I thought it would, and I have BIG PLANS for the next chapter that would have made it way too long! Please let me know what you think, as I really appreciate recognition for the hard work I put into my writing.
