The Disappointment Kid (Completed)

4

Henry had ordered a gigantic bucket full of ice cream that was glittering in all sorts of colours, which he tucked into with gusto, while I was sitting in front of my one scoop of vanilla ice, my stomach clenched, my hands clammy. I was well out of my comfort zone. 

Still, ice cream with Henry turned out to be surprisingly nice. We talked about school a bit. The harmless stuff, of course, like which teacher we liked and which subjects we absolutely hated.  We also talked about music we liked and recent movies. We agreed on some things and disagreed on others. All in all, I enjoyed myself.

When I eventually got back to my place, my mother yanked open the front door, waving her phone like a lunatic, before I even had the chance to get out my key. Her usual pale complexion now had a red tinge to it, and I detected actual crinkles in her otherwise pristine and overpriced business suit.

I am still not sure, but for a fleeting second I thought I had seen water gathering in her ice-blue eyes.

"Thank the Lord! Where have you been, Katherine? You are over an hour late! You are never late! I was so worried about you!" She gave me a very quick, very awkward hug. That was okay, though. I even felt oddly touched. We hadn't PDAed or even privately DAed in a long time.

"Sorry, Mum, I met a friend on the way home. I totally forgot to let you know. It was all kind of spontaneous. Plus, I didn't know you'd be home early today. I'm really sorry."

"A friend?" My mother's face lit up. "That's good, Katherine. I'm glad. Just let me know next time. I was really worried."

"It won't happen again, Mum, I promise."

"Well, I hope it will happen again. As long as you let me know. So, who's your friend?"

"Just a boy from my grade!" Somehow I was reluctant to mention Henry by name.

"A boy?" My mother's smile grew even wider. "Is he nice?"

"He's nice enough, Mum."

"Will you meet up with him again?"

Despite my best efforts, I started to feel irritated. "I don't know, Mum!" My voice rose a little, but my mother was not to be deterred.

"Have you asked him, darling? It's just... I just think you should not waste this opportunity. You don't have many friends. But friends are important. You'll be going to university soon. It takes a team effort to get ahead these days. It really is all about whom you know. Networking. You can believe me. I only want what's best for you. I want you to get a good job and have a good life. I wish you would try a little harder. It all seems to come so naturally to your sister. I don't know where we went wrong with you that you find it so difficult to make friends."

Emma, of course! Going to university, of course!

Still, I didn't feel like picking a fight.

"I'm going up to do my homework now." I tried to soften my voice a little bit. She was just worried – and maybe with good reason. After all, it was true. I didn't make friends easily. I just never fit in anywhere. I just never felt comfortable around other people. Yet, deep down inside of me, it was my greatest wish to find a place I belonged, to find a community of people who accepted me the way I was, who didn't judge my actions or what I looked like and what I stood for. Even if at that point I wasn't really sure myself what I actually stood for.

I shut my door firmly, dropped my school bag and fell onto my bed. I turned onto my back and stared at the ceiling. Why was I such a mess? Was there something seriously wrong with me? Was there hope? – Don't know. Probably yes. Most likely no.

I wrestled with myself, but eventually I managed to drag myself off the bed, get out my emergency chocolate and do my homework. It was still light outside, when I went back to bed, feeling like a squished grape. Yet, sleep remained elusive. 

My thoughts circled around tomorrow. School, classmates, my mother, my body and – finally – Henry. I would see him tomorrow. What would I say to him? Did one ice cream time constitute a friendship? How would Henry see our 'relationship'? The more I thought about it, the more anxious I became. I really, really, really didn't want to make a fool of myself. 

I pictured how I would be walking up to him, feeling confident and cool for once. "Hi Henry, I had a great time with you yesterday," I would say. But try as I might, I couldn't stop myself from imagining his confused reply. "Yesterday? Oh, you mean that ice cream to cool down my lip. I have already forgotten all about it." 

I shuddered. Better pretend it didn't mean anything to me. Play it cool. But what if that hurt Henry's feelings? He was being hurt enough by other people. I didn't want to be like them. Then again, what if Henry fell in love with me? Unlikely, given my appearance and lack of sex appeal. Henry was way out of my league. I wasn't even sure if I was actually attracted to him physically. I liked his voice, I loved the way he expressed himself, and I adored his superior intellect. I also had to acknowledge that he was a good-looking guy. 

But I wasn't big on physical contact with anybody. I wasn't even a hugger. Just the thought of strangers, hell, even close family coming up to me and putting their arms around me, always triggered tiny panic attacks in me. You know, increased heart rate, sweating, general discomfort. Whenever someone hugged me, I immediately breathed in as hard as I could and turned slightly sideways so people wouldn't notice my protruding belly. Of course, they could see it, even through all the layers of clothing I always wore, come winter or summer. I wasn't stupid. But letting others feel it... Just thinking about it brought on another panic attack.

I looked at the leftover chocolate in disgust and flung it into my bin. As of tomorrow, I would be on a diet. For real this time, I swore. No sweets anymore, no fast food. This time, it would work. In a few short months, I would be just as beautiful as everyone else. I would reinvent myself. I would leave Katherine behind and become Cat, slim, sexy, self-assured and popular. It would work. It just had to. Once I was the accepted weight, everything would be just fine.

With this resolution, I finally drifted off to sleep. I can't remember what I dreamed but, when I woke up, I didn't feel rested at all. I put on a fresh pair of jeans and a long-sleeved shirt of a non-descript colour. I avoided looking in the bathroom mirror and headed off to school, hungry and depressed.