The Yellow Umbrella

Chapter Three: A Poet's Heart

"It feels scratchy." I grumbled, tugging at the collar of the wool suit.

Standing in the dressing room of some overpriced store lined with mirrors, I could not escape looking at myself. It left me with burning inescapable insecurities. Was my wavy brown hair weird looking? Would my scrawny arms grow muscles overnight? Would the hideous suit fix me? 

I closed my eyes, I couldn't stop staring at my face. Sometimes, I felt like I belonged nowhere. I wasn't white enough to be white nor was I Asian enough. I felt like I was in this weird in between, a lonely place for the people who didn't have a box to check. 

"So this isn't really a date, is it? They're just doing homework?" My mom attempted to whisper from the other side of the dressing room door. 

There were many things she could not do: whisper, clean, be nonchalant.

"I'm a little worried he might get hurt. What if she's just using him for homework?" Wyatt admitted.

The more they talked, the more anxious I started to feel. Like yes, technically the word date was never exchanged. But I was hanging out with Mia, alone. I couldn't remember the last time I hung out with a girl alone. I wasn't even a blimp on any girl's radar, but maybe it was my fault. I never wore my heart on my sleeve. 

My heart couldn't get broken if I kept it in a safe, wrapped in chains and locks. 

There was one girl, before Mia. But she was a ghost from the past. And if I learned anything from her, it meant whatever this study date was, wasn't going to work. 

I took a deep breath and texted Mia before I could change my mind. If I had lived life so safely and survived all this time, why stop? Life was complicated, intricate, delicate. Why mess with its balance?

I hit send and stepped out of the dressing room. "It looks weird."

"You look so handsome!" My mom exclaimed, clasping her nimble hands together, "Mia won't be able to stop herself from ripping those clothes off of you."

"Mom, she canceled." I lied.

It was more believable that Mia canceled than if I admitted it was me. At the end of the day, I was going to get embarrassed anyways. 

My mom's eyes watered. "Oh, baby. I'm so sorry."

She tried to ruffle my hair, but I swatted her away. "Mom, it's fine. We all predicted it."

"What about the project?" Wyatt asked.

I shrugged, "Guess I'm working on it alone. Also I look like I'm going to the prom, in 1977."

Wyatt put his hand over his chin and said, "No, it looks like something my grandpa would be buried in."

"I wish I could be buried in it right now." I muttered. "I'm gonna look at the clearance section. We can't afford this ugly crap anyways."

I glanced at the price tag: $267.

There was no way my mom could make that on her cashier paycheck.

I opened the door to the dressing room, my face turning red. The suit wasn't right, the store wasn't right, was I even right? I slumped down against the wall. 

I didn't even want the stupid jacket, I just wanted Mia. I know, it sounded totally gushy and gross, but all I ever wanted was for her to notice me. She was a mystery to me, to everyone. Mia James moved to  our bumblefuck town one day with no backstory. She never dated anyone, kept to herself in class, and it drove me up the wall. 

But what made me think I was the person who could solve that mystery? 

I looked at the text once more, the feeling of anxiety being replaced by regret. I convinced myself it was better this way. If I went through with it, I would've ended up like Carrie at prom, hurt and humiliated.