Thalia

Chapter 5: Second Puberty

Chapter 5: Second Puberty

Ryan started walking towards my door, looking like a model, but I halted him by grabbing his right arm.

"Wait, Ryan, where are we even going? I have to change because I wore these clothes--" I immediately stopped myself. I can't tell him I wore this yesterday! He'll think I'm a trifling creature! That's just nasty. And if we're going where I think we're going, I'm going to shoot a squirrel.

I stammered, "U-uh, you know, recently s-so I have to change. . . ." I can tell he was believing my lie but I can also tell that he can't figure out why I was stuttering and nervous when I spoke. He didn't need to, either.

"Oh, we're going to Misty's pool party. She invited the whole junior class." He said it. He said the sentence that I hoped he would never say. Where's my mom's Hello Kitty gun? I have to hunt down a squirrel.

Misty Harper is the school's so-called, 'Mean Girl'. Or as my friend's and I call her, Mean-Butt-Misty. She thinks she's so cool and kneel-worthy just because she's co-captain of the volleyball team. She's also kind of rich. Her wild hog father owns some dumb company that makes diapers. But I'm still richer than her somehow. So she has nothing on me, though she tries to humiliate me in school,  it always backfires because I'm a smart alec and have more insults than her and her family's combined.

"Oh. Do I have to go? Can't we go somewhere else? It might be crowded." Lame excuse. I can't tell him I hate her with a passion cuz he might just think I'm 'over exaggerating' like the rest of the brainwashed blockheads do.

He took a handful of steps closer to me. Oh, no. Proximity alert! Too close! Does he want me to collapse? That cologne of his is going to--

I was cut off by him gently grabbing my hand standing less than a foot from me. "Please, Rosie?" His breath smelled of mints, and lots of them. His voice was so soft and pleading.

Yes, now I can physically melt right here. Well, maybe not right here. I haven't vacuumed my room this week, it's quite dirty. Maybe in my kitchen. . .

Grinning goofily I say, "Okay." I'm five different kinds of epic failure all in one, funkitated body. I normally am not this vulnerable. I don't know what's going on, I've been weird lately.

"Good. Wear your bathing suit." He winked at me then exited my room. I gawked at him leaving, never straying my eyes until after he closed the door behind him sending me a flirty smile.

Crap! I just gave in to him! It's only when he's around that I get all discombobulated! Maybe I can just ignore Misty. If the whole junior class is really going, I'll be overlooked hopefully. 

I snap out of it and go to my closet to find something to put on my disgrace of a protoplasm. Yeah, I need to stay out of school, it's making my vocabulary change. 

I have tons of bathing suits and cover-ups, most of them aren't the cutest. I have some floral patterned ones, solid dark, dingy colored ones, and I obviously have them all from my mom's shameful clothing line. She forces them on me and I don't know what to do with them. I can't deny them because she specifically designed it for me and that would just hurt her too-frail-for-my-liking feelings. Parents are complicated. Why'd my dad have to cheat? He could put her back in check with reality. But no, he couldn't be faithful.

I look around at my bathing suit section. I want something pretty, but not beautiful, fitting, but not like a second skin, and charming, but not screaming 'Look at me, I'm half-naked.'. I completely contradicted myself.

I decide on my piercing, electric blue, white polka dotted bikini. It has a strap that goes around the neck and back. I figured this was fitting enough to my bipolar description. Now, the cover-up. I just want something simple that won't draw attention so I grab my spandex, light pink, halter tunic and some white, slip-on shorts, that can't even be seen, just in case.