Beauty (35 page)

She started out slowly, her forehead creased in concentration as her eyes darted from me to the page and back. But the longer she drew, the faster her hand moved, and soon she was barely even glancing at me, her hand flying blindly across the page. As I watched her, I began to feel warm all over, like an invisible sun was wrapping itself around me like a blanket. Faster and faster she drew, until her hand was just a blur in the air. And then all around us, things began to change.

Flowers bloomed and withered and bloomed again. Above us, the setting sun poured streams of colors into the sky, each one splattering into a thousand stars. The lake rippled as swans rose to its surface, one after another after another, until there were hundreds of them, gliding like clouds in the water. The breeze picked up, brushing against my arms, but I felt warmer than ever, like the light of the sun and the colorful stars were pouring down over me. Dharma kept drawing and the breeze blew harder, lifting up my hair as it spun around me.
Beautiful
, it seemed to whisper.
Beautiful
,
beautiful
,
beautiful.

And it was. The colors and the swans and the flowers bursting back to life around us, I’d never seen anything more beautiful. “It’s done.” Dharma’s voice reached me as if through a fog. I blinked. All around me, the world was normal again. The flowers were still, the pond was empty, the wind lay dormant. The sun hung low in the sky, emitting only the softest of glows. Dharma rolled up the portrait and slid it into a tube. “Promise me you won’t look at it until you’re home.”

“I promise,” I said, taking the tube from her. “But am I … ?”

“Yes.” She nodded firmly. “You’re you, Molly. But then again you always were. You just had to look hard enough.” Dharma stood, holding out her hand to help me up. “Are you happy now?”

I held my hand to my face again. My skin wasn’t as soft. My cheekbones weren’t as high. “Yes,” I said slowly. “I really am.”

Dharma folded up her easel and began gathering together her charcoal. “Good luck, Molly Davis,” she said.

“Thanks.” It wasn’t until I’d already walked back through the bushes that I realized I’d never told her my last name.

The fair looked exactly the same as I made my way to the exit, but I felt different. My body felt like it used to: a little too tall, a little too thin, a little too hunched. “Oh!” Without realizing it, I walked right into a boy a year or two younger than me. I recognized him from Seth’s tennis team.

“Watch it,” the boy grumbled, adjusting his grip on a bag of fried Oreos.

“Sorry,” I said hastily. “I didn’t see yo—” But the boy was already on his way, without even a second glance at me.

I stood there for a second, breathing deeply. I had to find a mirror.

The fair’s bathroom wasn’t far away, and I pushed my way through a group of giggling girls to get to the mirror. And there I was. Good old Molly Davis, in all her frizzy-haired glory. I took a step closer, examining my face. My skin was duller, my lips were narrower, my eyes just a little too far apart … It was me, all right. But there was something a little different about me, too. I ran a hand through my newly wild hair, trying to place it. And then I realized. That glow might be gone, the one that seemed to just draw people to me—but in its place was something else. I looked harder. It was an ease, I realized. An ease about me that I’d never had before.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out, my heart skipping a beat when I saw who it was from. Hudson. I’d been skirting questions from him all afternoon.

Mol, what’s going on??? Are we still going 2 the dance 2night?

Meet me @ my house @ 8
, I wrote back. Whether or not we went to the dance would be up to him. I had to get going, though, I realized, if I wanted to get home and dressed before Hudson got there. But as I passed by the ticket booth, I paused. Spike was still there, leering at another girl, this one even younger than me. “Hey, beautiful,” I heard him say.

I had to try just one more thing before I left. I walked back to the ticket booth. “One ticket,” I said.

Spike looked down at me. “Fifteen dollars,” he said dully, his eyes wandering over to the person standing behind me. I shifted in my spot. He had barely even looked at me. For the first time since I left Dharma and the fishpond, something else coursed through me, some feeling I couldn’t name. “You coming in or what?” Spike asked.

And for the slightest of seconds, I was tempted. If I went back in there, back to Dharma, I could be the new Molly, the beautiful one, forever. My phone buzzed again. I pulled it out. This time, it was a text from Kemper.

Hair purple or red for the dance tonight???? Help!!!

I smiled.
Definitely red
, I typed back.
After all, we’re celebrating, right?

“So?” the man said again. “Coming in?”

“No.” I flashed him my very best smile, the one I’d had my entire life. It might not be dazzling or swoon-worthy, but it was all mine. “I’m not.”

Beauty Is in the Eye of the Boyfriend

SPAGHETTI THREW HIMSELF on me the second I walked through the door of my house. “Whoa,” I said as his paws landed squarely on my shoulders, making me stagger backward. He gave me several big wet licks on my face, his tail thumping frantically against the floor. “You’re acting like you haven’t seen me in days, boy!” He gave me another big lick.
Oh
, I realized with a start. I guess, in a way, he hadn’t. I gave him a kiss on the head. “I’m glad to be back too, Spaghetti.”

“Molly? Is that you?” I heard my mom’s footsteps making their way over from the living room and, for the first time all week, I didn’t run and hide.

“It’s me!” My mom crossed into the entryway and Spaghetti dropped back down on all fours, nudging his head into my legs. “Hi, Mom.” It was the first time all week I’d been with her without some kind of barrier between us, and it hit me just how much I’d missed her. I gave her a quick hug.

“What was that for?” she asked, sounding surprised. She took a step back, raising her eyebrows at me suspiciously. “Oh no. What did you do, Molly?”

“Nothing.” I took off for the kitchen, Spaghetti trailing closely behind me. “Can’t a daughter hug her mom for no reason?” Tossing the portrait tube next to the fridge, I poured myself a tall glass of lemonade. After racing home from the fair, I felt like I could drink three of them in a row. Spaghetti stayed close behind me, his wet nose pressing against the back of my leg.

“What’s up with you, Spaghetti? Give Molly some space!” My mom tried to coax him over to her, but he ignored her.

“Want some?” I asked, gesturing to the lemonade.

My mom nodded. “Sure.” I poured her a glass, and we sat down at the table, Spaghetti curling up at my feet.

“You know, it’s weird,” my mom said, reaching over and touching my cheek, “but I feel like I haven’t seen your face in weeks.” She let out a laugh.

“Yeah,” I agreed, biting down on my tongue. “Weird.”

I took a long sip of my lemonade. I had about five minutes left before I had to start getting ready for the dance, and I wanted to spend it just like this: at the kitchen table with my mom, Spaghetti at my feet, everything the same as it always was.

“Hey, what’s this?” My mom reached for the portrait tube. “Is this the portrait we looked at earlier?”

“No. I … decided to go back today and get another one.”

My mom eyed me curiously. “Well, let’s see it then.” Opening up the tube, she pulled the portrait out and unrolled it on the table. We both let out a little gasp. In some ways it was exactly the same as my last portrait—I had the same cheekbones, same nose, same mouth—but in other ways, it looked so different. I was sitting up tall and straight in this one, my eyes wide and smiling. My hair was dancing on the wind, making it look more exotic than wild. “Wow,” my mom murmured. “It’s beautiful.”

I reached out and ran my finger along the charcoal image, from my hair to my eyes to my lips. “Yeah,” I said softly. “It really is.”

After we finished our lemonade, I went upstairs to get ready. My hands were shaking a little as I pulled the periwinkle dress out of my closet. Ever since I’d gotten that dress, I’d had this image in my head of how I’d look when I finally wore it. What if this body didn’t live up to it? I took a deep breath. It was the only dress I had for the night; I was stuck with it, for better or worse.

Slowly, I climbed out of my outfit and into the dress. I took my time zippering up the side and sliding into the strappy shoes Renee had picked out for me. Then I added the long silver earrings and ran a hand over the dress, carefully smoothing it out. All along I kept thinking:
This is what Hudson will see me in… . This is what Hudson will see me in
. By the time I stepped over to the mirror, I was so nervous I could barely stand still. I held my breath as I faced the mirror. But as I took in my outfit, I slowly let it all out.

The dress looked great. It fit me like a glove, like it was made for me. I stood up tall, throwing back my shoulders. I might not be the same picture-perfect model girl who stared into the dressing room mirror at Haute, but this Molly—the real one—had never worn anything that fit her so well.

“Hey,” my mom said, sticking her head in my bedroom. “Mind if I come in?”

I shook my head silently, my eyes still glued to the image reflecting back at me in the mirror.

“Wow,” my mom murmured as she stepped into my room. “You look amazing, Molly. Where did you get that dress?”

I thought of Renee and the Haute Teen Ambassadors Program, just one of the crazy things that had happened to me in the past two weeks. “I borrowed it,” I said finally.

“Well, it fits you perfectly. And I just thought I’d see if maybe you want some help with your hair and makeup?” She sounded hesitant, and I understood why. I used to balk every time she brought things like that up, sure she was trying to make me into someone I wasn’t. But now I think I understood the truth. She just wanted to help me be me.

“Yeah,” I said, patting at my wild tangle of hair. “That would be great.”

Twenty minutes later, my mom had twisted my hair back into a low, loose chignon and given my face a soft glow with blush, lip-gloss, and some silvery eye shadow. It was nothing compared to how I’d looked naturally just that morning, but I felt good, like the best possible version of me. Now, if only Hudson would think so too. Several nerves fluttered in my stomach. I wished I could pause this moment and never have to face Hudson and his inevitable shock. But I couldn’t. And, when it came down to it, I doubted I would even if I could. I was done with wishes.

My dad and Seth were just getting back from a game of tennis as I climbed down the stairs. My dad let out a sharp whistle. “Look at my little girl. All grown up!”

“You do look beautiful, honey,” my mom agreed. She’d run down to the living room to get the camera, and now she was standing at the foot of the stairs, snapping photos of me.

Everyone was quiet as they waited for Seth to chime in. But he just stood there, his jaw hanging open as he stared at me: the old Molly, back again. I paused in the middle of the stairway, tensing as I waited for his barrage of insults to start. “Not bad, Mol,” he said finally. I glared down at him, waiting for the catch. But there was no cunning look or mischievous glint in his eyes. In fact, he looked almost … relieved. I felt my shoulders start to relax.

“Thanks,” I said, taking the final few steps down.

Seth grinned at me. “You know, for someone who’s not a
Mars Attacks!
champion, anyway.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I said, elbowing him softly in the side. “Just wait. I’ll get you next time.”

Ding dong, ding dong!

At the sound of the doorbell, my breath caught in my throat.

“That must be your date,” my mom said. “Do you want me to get it?”

Yes
, I wanted to say.
You get it, and I’ll run and hide
.
Forever
. But instead, I squared my shoulders. I had to do this. I had to know. “No, I can get it.”

With my family behind me, I walked over to the front door and yanked it open before I could lose my nerve. Hudson was standing there, looking better than ever in his suit, his shaggy blond hair actually semi-tamed for once. He held a bouquet of roses in his hands and was shifting from foot to foot, looking as nervous as I felt.

“Hey,” I said quietly. I braced myself for his reaction. Shock at the very best, disgust and anger at the worst.

“Hey, Mol.” He bent forward to kiss my cheek. “These are for you,” he added, handing me the roses.

“Uh, thanks …” I looked up at him in confusion as I took the roses.

“What?” Hudson laughed. “Why are you looking at me like that?” He took my hand, squeezing it gently. “Do I have something on my face?” I shook my head wordlessly. “Then are you going to invite me in?” he asked. “Introduce me to everyone, maybe?” He glanced over my shoulder, waving at my family. “Hi,” he said. “I’m Hudson, Molly’s date.”

“Oh, um, yeah.” I stepped aside, letting him in. As my parents and Seth gathered round, introducing themselves, I couldn’t stop watching him. He was smiling, his dimple out in full-force, and his eyes kept flickering excitedly over to me. I didn’t understand. Had he not noticed the difference?