Becoming A Butterfly (The Butterfly Chronicles) (5 page)

BOOK: Becoming A Butterfly (The Butterfly Chronicles)
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So where are you headed off to?” I asked in a motherly tone.

 


Shopping. Lana is outgrowing everything.” I laughed, and Lana smiled smugly. The brat was getting new clothes. Awesome.

 


If you see something you think I might like—” I began, but mom cut me off.

 


I’ll get it.” Mom waved me off as she put on her sunglasses. Lana went to put on some wedge heels, and as she bent over, I gasped.

 


How do you move in that dress?” I exclaimed as my mom’s eyebrows creased.

 


Shut up dork,” she said as she stomped out the door.

 


Lana. . .” my mom began as she followed her out the door. There was a lecture, but I didn’t hear the rest of it as she shut the door behind her. I watched Lana shrug as she waited for my mom to unlock her car. My mom’s mouth was going a mile a minute as it always does when she gets on one of her bandwagons.

 

 

A few days a week I work in my parents’ shops. At my mom’s salon I stock the product shelf, fill the stylists’ products at the sinks, and sweep up hair. At my dad’s office, I file and help keep him organized. In total it takes me about three hours, but they pay me cash that goes toward my car fund. Once I was done, I went home and began my homework. Mom and Dad came home with Chinese take-out, and we ate dinner with our chopsticks. Afterwards, I returned to my room to Status Quo and planned on gaming, but I was interrupted by a ding.

 

Henry Emmitt: Hey

Farrah Leevar: Hey yourself, what’s up?

Henry Emmitt: Not a lot, just avoiding homework.

Farrah Leevar: I can relate.
I couldn’t. I always did my homework first.
So what’s up, I feel like I barely know you, give me a clue.

 

I looked over in his window at him typing away at his computer. I couldn’t take the guilt, so I stood and went to my blinds. He was oblivious of me standing there watching him. I lowered them and twisted the rod to close them.

 

Henry Emmitt: I’m in the 10
th
grade. I love to skate, but you already know that. My brother is at the University of Indianapolis. Even though he’s only like an hour away, I feel like I never see him. I have a younger sister, Myra, she’s in eighth grade. My parents think I influence her too much, LOL. My best friend’s name is Byron; I’ve known him since kindergarten.

Farrah Leevar: What do you guys do?

Henry Emmitt: The usual. There’s a spot where we always skate; sometimes we’ll go to the skate park, but it gets crowded. Tell me about you.

Farrah Leevar: There’s not much to tell. I have a little sister. She’s nothing like me; she’s just like my mom. LOL I’m a different creature all together.

Henry Emmitt: What do you mean?

Farrah Leevar: Henry, we all have masks we hide behind. And at some point we all want to be someone else. I guess I’m just able to be that person more.

Henry Emmitt: Yeah, I think I understand what you mean. It’s like sometimes Byron and his sister Bea say things that make me embarrassed to even be around them. They can be pretty rude sometimes. I don’t even know why they’re my friends sometimes.

Farrah Leevar: Why are they?

Henry Emmitt: Idk. We’ve just known each other forever. And he’s a good guy when he’s not around other people—plus he gets me like no one else can sometimes.

Farrah Leevar: You say sometimes a lot.

Henry Emmitt: Yeah, so what about you—friends?

Farrah Leevar: I have two best friends. They are the best too, supportive and strong-willed. We always have fun together. I think it’s important to surround yourself with people you most want to be like, and you look up to. You know the saying “You are what you eat.” I think it applies to friends too.

Henry Emmitt: Sometimes, that’s easier said than done.
I sensed a sadness in that statement. I didn’t want to make him unhappy.

Farrah Leevar: Maybe then you should be the broccoli. ;)

 

 

 

Chapter 6

 

Over the next few days, a new normal began. After school, after dinner, when I should have been in my room gaming, I chatted with Henry instead. He let me inside his head; he gave me honesty I never knew existed with him. We talked about school society, stupid etiquette, and the expectations his parents were already putting on him to be like his older brother Martin, the model son. I told him about my fears of never being noticed for me. We told each other embarrassing moments, like the time at summer camp when I accidentally put salt in my oatmeal instead of sugar and made a sour pucker face when the counselor took my picture, and the time at his family reunion when he busted his uncle smoking weed behind his grandpa’s barn, only later to realize he’d caught a contact buzz after he danced crazily in front of his entire family, extended and all. We flirted, we joked, and we were totally goofy. I began to fall even more head over heels for him, which made seeing him in school even harder. My dreamy stares were being noticed as Bea and Byron’s comments to me became more assaulting. I wondered if Henry would ever put the two together—that I was Farah. That both excited and terrified me. Rejection was my tyrant, ensuring that I played by the laws of its country, so on Thursday night, I sat there tapping my fingers on my desk, waiting for his profile picture to glow.

 

Henry Emmitt: Hey, Rah-rah.

 

Yes, he had already given me a nickname as I had him.

 

Farrah Leevar: Hey, Fakie.

 

It was his favorite skating move, he explained it to me, but I didn’t quite understand what it was. He promised to show it to me one day. Yes, I understood the irony of it all.

 

Farrah Leevar: How was school?

Henry Emmitt: The usush, u?

Farrah Leevar: Same.

Henry Emmitt: Weekend plans?

Farrah Leevar: Hanging out, u?

Henry Emmitt: Well u know the new Jason Staten movie comes out Friday, I can’t wait.

Farrah Leevar: Horray for action movies. *not said in a sarcastic way at all ;)*

Henry Emmitt: Say what you will but he’s a fighting genius.

 

We talked for a while more about small stuff like we usually started out. Then he wrote:

 

Henry Emmitt: So what do you look for in a guy?

 

This made me nervous, and out of habit I looked over to my closed blinds for some sense of support; knowing he was on the other side was the only assurance I got.

 

Farrah Leevar: He has to be funny, nice, and street smart.

Henry Emmitt: OK.

Farrah Leevar: I tend to lean towards brunettes; I love messy hair that I can run my fingers through.
I cringed as I hit the enter key.

Henry Emmitt: Hmmm, light brown count?

Farrah Leevar: Any brown really. Eyes are very important. I have to be able to look a guy in the eyes and go weak, OR know when he’s being honest with me.

 

Wow, I surprised myself, sounding like I’d actually had interaction with a boy who liked me.

 

Henry Emmitt: I agree. Eyes are very important and must be swoon-worthy.

Farrah Leevar: Shut-up! You asked! What about you? What do you look for in a girl?

Henry Emmitt: Honest, sweet, kind, and HOT. That last one is the most important.

Farrah Leevar: Spoken like a true dude.

Henry Emmitt: No, I have to be attracted to her, but someone’s personality can make them just as attractive or unattractive as their looks.

Farrah Leevar: Well said!

Henry Emmitt: So are you seeing anyone right now?

Farrah Leevar: Not really.

 

Evasive was good, right?

 

Henry Emmitt: Cool.

 

There was a long pause where neither of us typed anything, and then he wrote:

 

Henry Emmitt: Do you want to come up to Brownsburg and go to that movie with me tomorrow?

Farrah Leevar: Sure!

 

I typed it and sent it before I even thought! I dropped my head and banged it against my desk. What had I just done? Then I added:

 

Farrah Leevar: I’ll have to see if I can catch a ride up; do you want to meet at the theater?

Henry Emmitt: Yeah, that’s cool.

Farrah Leevar: Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow.

Henry Emmitt: K, night.

 

I closed my laptop and paced for a few minutes. Then I re-opened it and Video Chatted with Tasha and Jade to discuss my impending doom.

 

 

At school, Henry whistled as he passed me in the halls, wearing his “Mom likes me best” tee and smiled hello’s to everyone he passed. In English, he and Byron talked through the whole class.

 


Did you tell her what time the movie starts?” Byron asked, sitting sideways and not paying attention to Mr. Ziggler reading his poem.

 


I didn’t; I’ll text her now.” He took out his phone and sent a message. Moments later my phone buzzed softly -in my hoodie pocket. My face turned red, but no one noticed. He stared at his phone. My heart pounded as I realized he was waiting for a response. I took a deep breath. He’d just have to wait. I wasn’t brave enough to text him while I was sitting next to him.

 


Do not wear your ‘I am the man from Nantucket’ shirt,” Byron continued, as Henry stared at his phone. “You’ll look like a douche.”

 


It’s my lucky shirt,” Henry pleaded.

 


It won’t be if you wear it.” Byron rolled his eyes, then glared at me. I hadn’t realized I was so focused on their conversation and watching their every move. Henry glanced at me, but quickly returned to his phone. I looked down at my open book.

 


Fine! What should I wear?” He gave up on his phone and leaned back in his seat.

 


What am I,
Project Runway
? I don’t know,” Byron spouted, then softened his tone and
added, “OK, OK, we’ll hit up Metropolis Mall in Plainfield and get you some new threads, and…” He paused, eye-balling Henry’s head.

 

Henry ran his fingers through his hair as if that would make it look less messy. “A haircut,” Henry groaned.

 

Byron continued, “You really like Farrah, and this is the first time you’re meeting her. Only the best will do.” I turned and stared out the window. He liked me, enough to get a haircut. That was saying something; he hadn’t even got a haircut for the spring formal.

 

After school, Jade and Tasha were in Farah mode. We picked out a rocking outfit, but one that was totally casual, and I tied a scarf around my wrist, typical Farrah. Tasha made my make-up look very subtle. I was quite pleased until she brought out the bright red lipstick.

 


Um, no,” I said, shaking my head.

 


Um, yes. Why do you think I did your makeup this way? You have one feature that stands out to ensure that
you
stand out—sometimes the eyes, sometimes the lips. Tonight, the lips.” Jade laughed as she brushed my hair up into a pony tail. I had snuck out my mom’s wig, but I couldn’t put it on until I was out of the house. It sat in my oversized purse on the bed.

 


What if he doesn’t like me?” I squirmed.

 


What if he thinks you’re amazing?” Jade countered.

 


What if he figures it out and hates me?”

 


What if he realizes you’re amazing!” Tasha insisted, as she and Jade stood me up and
shoved me out the bathroom door. “We’ll be here when you get back.” I gave them one last look, hoping to be rescued, but they only shooed me on. I grabbed my purse and was out the door. There was no going back.

 

 

 

Chapter 7

I sat in my dad’s Cadillac sedan and watched Henry pace in front of the entrance. I looked at my red wig, red lips and terrified brown contact-ed eyes in the rearview mirror. I twisted my scarf around in my finger. Henry looked at the digital clock on the movie board and surveyed the parking lot again. I couldn’t go through with it. With a sigh, I resigned myself to my fate. I dug into my dad’s glove compartment, found a napkin, and I wiped my lips clean. Then I removed the contacts, replaced them with my new black-rimmed glasses, and took off the wig. I laid it on the passenger seat so it wouldn’t get too messed up. Then I took off the shrug and scarf I wore and Lacey’ed up my outfit, putting my hoodie back on. I put on clear lip gloss and got out of the car. I walked across the parking lot toward Henry. About halfway, someone fell into step beside me. Chase.

BOOK: Becoming A Butterfly (The Butterfly Chronicles)
13.49Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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