Dangerous Beauty

One week.
Only one week left until summer, and two days until my birthday. The outlook was pretty good.

Well, at least it would have been, if I hadn’t been forced to come along for one of our weekly family outings. Whatever that’s supposed to mean. Not like I’ve got a real family, and honestly, these outings couldn’t be any less thrilling without killing me.

We’re sitting at a dingy fast food place, staring at each other from across the table. The lines are obvious. Me, on one side, and my aunt and cousin Cathy on the other.

I glower, continuing to chew the life out of the plastic straw in my mouth. Getting any coke out of it will be hell, but I don’t care. Both of them are giving me looks dripping with disapproval.

“Chandra,” my aunt hisses, “stop that.”
“Stop what?” I ask, feigning innocence with a mouth full of plastic.
“You know what,” Cathy scolds me. I growl at her, making my feelings clear. I hate Cathy.
I spit out the straw, spraying a bit. They eye the counter with obvious disgust.

“You’re so immature,” Cathy groans.
I make a face at her.
“Both of you! Cut that out this instant!” My aunt orders, recognizing the beginning of a fight. Her face is set in a livid mask, making her look much older then she is.
“Sorry, Mom,” Cathy mutters.
“Fine,” I snap. “I’m going to the bathroom.”
“Take your tray with you,” she suggests. I obey, dumping a half eaten sandwich in a generic trash can, which gives off the faint scent of rot.
They know I hate fast food. Did Cathy suggest this just to bug me? She’s so awful.
Instead of going to the bathroom, I duck out the door, sucking in the evening air. It’s the fragrant kind, suggesting summer soon to come. It’s sort of nice.
Not abandoning my scowl, I walk out into the mostly empty parking lot, fighting off the guilt.
I sometimes wonder if my aunt is sorry she took me in. It must have been hard for her, caring for me, when she was already alone and raising her own daughter. I guess I’m pretty ungrateful, but I don’t think she quite gets it. We don’t get along. I know she prefers my perfect cousin over me, and I don’t know... I’m just weird.
I know I’m fairly horrible. I just don’t want anyone to relax around me. If they do, then they’ll see how dull I am.
I mean, Cathy is great. She’s interesting, pretty, and just perfect in general. We go to school together, and I know she’s popular. She gets perfect grades, too.
As for me, well, I’m not very impressive. I’m average and below average in all respects, and yet still somehow manage to be boring.
I thought perfection was supposed to be boring.
I walk along the edge of the curb, letting my mind wander. I pretend I’m balancing, and there’s a long fall where the pavement is. If I sway, then I’ll die.
I keep this game up for several minutes when I hear footsteps, and my head snaps up warily.
“Hey!” someone shouts, “It’s Chandra!”
I hear cruel laughter bouncing off the pavement, reaching my ears like knives. A group of boys have gathered, and are now staring at me, no doubt seeing great opportunity for mockery.
I don’t care that much getting it from this crowd. They haven’t left me alone since freshman year, and by reputation they just make trouble. I don’t see why they bother trying to get on my nerves. I don’t react, and I’m not obviously flawed enough to be interesting.
“Where’s your sister?” one shouts. I react to that.
Actually, I surprise myself. I’m too tired to get mad.
“Get a life,” I grumble, not really original, but enough. I do a sort of speed walk to the door, slamming it behind me.
Inside the safety of the building, I sigh.
“Chandra!” My aunt’s angry voice rings in my ears.
“Chandra!” I hear the echo of the mocking tone.
And they wonder why I hate my name.
“Where were you? Next time, tell me if you’re going somewhere. You really shouldn’t wander off like that.”
I roll my eyes at the scolding, and then notice the absence of a certain cousin. “Where’s Cathy?”
“She went off with a few of her friends,” my aunt explains. What a surprise.
“I thought this was supposed to be family night,” I say carefully.
“She can go be with her friends from school,” my aunt shrugs. “What’s the harm?”
I’d never get away with that. Not like I would try, anyway. Cathy is never in shortage of friends. I, however, am. It’s not that I don’t have friends. I just don’t seem to know everybody, like she does.
“Can we go home now?” I plead.
“Of course,” she says. “Dump out my tray, please.”
I stand up, cleaning up the leftover salads that make up the remains of Cathy and my aunt’s meal.
Maybe I should have gotten a salad.
We walk out to the car, but I’m on edge the second we’re outside. With good reason, too. The boys haven’t moved. A few have pulled out cigarettes, and the smoke makes me gag.
I’m standing by the car in seconds, self conscious and turning red under their unrelenting gaze. My aunt, unaware of my position, is moving with a frustrating slowness. I want to drag her across the pavement, but somehow manage to wait.
Hurry, I silently plead. I don’t like the way they’ve all gone quiet, like they’re planning something.
She fiddles with her car keys, not bothering to unlock my door until she’s already buckled in. I slide onto the seat, flashing my belt on faster then I knew I could.
“Just drive,” I beg.
She does, at last. I’m almost ready to tear out my hair in horror at the events of this evening. We pass the boys almost at a crawl, and I make eye contact with one without meaning to.
He sneers, and I cringe.
Only a week left, I tell myself. One week.
We leave the parking lot, and I relax, sucking in a shallow breath.
It’s not a long drive to get home, but along the way we pass Cathy and her friends. The usual crowd of seniors, enjoying one last summer before going off to college.
Cathy got into a very good school. I don’t want to go at all, not that I have a choice.
I scowl at her from the car, noticing she’s with a boy. Her latest boyfriend, I guess. I watch with a sick feeling as they walk. She seems to be hanging onto him like she couldn't walk on her own, wrapping an arm around his waist for support.
I recognize them, but they don’t notice me.
I guess that’s preferable.
At school, Cathy spends the greater part of her time pretending we’re not related. It’s only the last name that gives us away, although most people think we’re sisters. Really, we look nothing alike. I don’t see how they could think that. She’s much prettier then me.
I wonder if my mother was pretty.
I don’t know what happened to my parents, or my uncle for that matter. I don’t think about it much, and haven’t asked about. Why wonder about a family when I’ve already got one?
More or less.
Besides, I’m pretty sure most of my family is dead, and maybe it would be worse if I knew.
We pull up to the house, and I jump out. I’m half way up the front lawn before my aunt is even out the car.
She’s really quite slow
As soon as we’re in, I go up to my room, not letting my angry scowl fade until I’ve shut the door. Then I turn on the TV.
*************************************
The next day is a blur.
Six days to summer, one until my birthday. I’ll be sixteen, which is supposed to be a big deal, but it won’t be. I’m not even having a party.
School is pretty dull. My morning classes mostly consist of finishing up finals, and by lunch, I’m starving.
I sit at my usual table with my misfit group of friends. We make up the shy girls of our grade.
“I’m so glad school’s almost over,” one sighs.
“Yeah. We’ll have to go to a movie or something this weekend to celebrate,” another suggests.
I shrug. I don’t really like these girls, but I don’t know anyone else.
“Hey,” a familiar voice laughs. “Saw you yesterday.”
I look up at two of the boys from last night with disgust.
“Just ignore them,” someone whispers to me.
I hate bullies. I’m not sure what I did to deserve this. Am I really so hopelessly awful? I bite my lip, trying to ignore what they say. Finally, they walk away.
Sometimes, I wish I could fade into the ugly orange lunch chairs set up in the caf. I kind of do. I’m an outsider, and I’ve spent most of my life observing people. It’s easier that way; watching, but not getting involved. I’ve never felt like I fit into society.
Maybe I never will.
********************************************
“I’m home!” I shout, tossing my almost empty backpack to the floor. We’re not doing work in school anymore, starting today. The only reason we’re still in is because of the excess snow days.
“Hey,” Cathy calls from the living room. As a senior, she’s been out of school for a while now.
I join her, tugging my legs under me when I sit on the sofa. My feet are kind of hurting, and I idly consider pulling out the foot bath.
“How was your day?” she asks, really trying to be nice and interested.
“Fine,” I reply flatly. “Yours?”
She beams. “Good.”
I turn my attention to the TV, where commercials are playing. Image after image flash, urging me to get this product and call that number. I hate commercials.
“I made brownies,” she tells me. “The healthy kind, too.”
I smile thinly. “Great. Where are they?”
“Kitchen counter.”
I get two, and a glass of milk, stuffing both in. When I return, Cathy eyes my glass with considerable disgust.
“What?” I laugh.
“That’s gross.”
I roll my eyes, drinking the sludgy stuff. This is one of the many odd habits Cathy has tried unsuccessfully to rid me of.
I make a face when I see what she’s watching.
I hate reality TV.
I listen to the stilted, rehearsed lines given by a marginally cute boy, his mouth moving into a smile way too fast for what he’s saying. Probably thrilled to get his fifteen minutes.
Sighing, I finish off my snack and go back into the kitchen. The brownies were pretty good. Cathy’s not a bad cook, either.
I rinse out my glass, then take another.
“I’m going upstairs!” I shout, taking the long way through the dining room to avoid her.
“’K,” she mutters, transfixed by the show.
I bite into the brownie, shutting my door firmly behind me. I flip on the TV to music videos, but I don’t really watch.
I get on the computer, making my usual rounds. E - mail, horoscopes, IM, ect.
Life can get pretty dull, especially for me. I feel like I’ve been sitting around waiting for something to happen for almost sixteen years now. Sixteen years tomorrow.
How much longer will I have to wait?
I’m probably crazy, I decide. I’ve gone insane, and that’s why I feel so restless. My shyness is a sign of this.
But that’s ridiculous. I heard insane people don’t think they’re crazy, and I’m half convinced.
Groaning, I bury my head in my arms, wrecking havoc with the keyboard. I don’t feel like finishing school.
Maybe I could drop out?
No. My Aunt would never let me, and what sort of job could I get without an education? They’re always drilling that into us. Do well in school, don’t do drugs, and listen to your parents.
Eww.
Not that I’m any sort of thug. I do my homework, and no one’s ever invited me to a party or anything where drugs would be an option. I don’t even have parents to listen to.
I stare up at my ceiling, letting my thoughts blur into one fact.

I’m bored. With life.
******************************************
I wake up the day of my sixteenth birthday with a start, as if disturbed from a very interesting dream I can’t remember.
I roll over in bed, squinting.
My alarm clock tells me I’m late, so I stand in a hurry, dressing as quickly as I can. I’m at risk of missing the bus.
The rest of the day isn’t so fun, either.
All of my friends forgot it was my birthday, and I don’t remind them. It’s like it could be any other day, until I walk through my front door. “I’m home!” I call again, stumbling in through the threshold. I’m immediately greeted by the sweet smell of baking cake.
At least someone remembered.
The living room has been decorated with a single balloon, and a small pile of gifts. It’s more then I expected. I try not to feel happy or grateful.
“Happy birthday!” my cousin calls, clearly thrilled by the excuse to show off her baking prowess. “How was your day?”
“Fine,” I reply flatly, as always. “Yours?”
“Great!” She comes out of the kitchen, radiant.
She hugs me, and I resist pushing her away.
“I can’t believe you’re sixteen,” she murmurs. “But you’ll always be just a little kid to me.”
“Neither can I,” I mutter, although I’m fairly horrified by the forever a kid comment.
“Mom’s coming home early tonight, to celebrate. I’m decorating your cake, so don’t even think of going into the kitchen!”
“Okay,” I shrug.
She vanishes again, and I flip on the TV. It’s set to the news channel, and I watch with an increasingly dark mood.
One apartment building burnt to the ground, an expert assuring us we’ll all be dead within the year from the latest pandemic, and three soldiers killed in a car bomb.
You’d think, from watching this, we’re at the end of the world.
I flip to cartoons, not really paying attention. Now I’m looking at the gifts. I see three wrapped boxes, and something else.
A cardboard box, like the kind you get in the mail. But who would send me anything? I haven’t got any relatives.
I frown at it, curious, but know if I’m caught looking Cathy will probably give me a word scolding resulting in a massive fight. That would ruin my birthday, so I turn my attention back to the TV.
*********************************
After cake, I once again turn to my gifts. This time, however, they aren’t forbidden.
“Who’s the box from?” I ask my aunt.
She shrugs, smiling.
I open my wrapped gifts first, thanking them each with more emotion then I feel. Then I turn to the cardboard.
I don’t know why, but I can’t take my eyes off it. It seems to be drawing me forward, like there's a big magnet in there.
I use scissors cleverly fetched by Cathy to tear through the wide tape. I pull up the flaps impatiently, and make a face.
There’s a burnt smell clinging to the box, and it hasn’t got anything but a CD player in it.
Not even a nice one. It’s old, and scuffed up, obviously well used and clearly broken.
I mean, come on. There aren’t even headphones.
“Is this some sort of joke?” I ask no one in particular, lifting it out. It’s lighter then it looks. Maybe I can take it apart.
“That’s strange,” my aunt frowns.
Before I’m allowed any further investigation, there’s a loud knock on the door, a few more times then is strictly polite. We all exchange looks, but Cathy gets to her feet, ready to answer.
I sigh and press the open button. Maybe there’s a CD?
“Hey!” Cathy cries, insulted. There’s a crash, and she runs into the room. At least I think she does, it sounds like it. But all my attention is taken up, because there’s something coming out.
At first I think it’s a CD, but it starts to rise, a bit like the shimmery rainbow surface is swelling. Then it lifts, detaching itself completely, and hanging in the air like some insane bubble.
I scowl at it; my favorite reaction.
The thing shudders a few times, expanding until it smoothes itself into a perfect sphere, hanging in the air, just another balloon.
The thing is really pretty, actually, like a balled up rainbow.
Cathy seems to disagree. “No!” she screams, pushing me to the floor. “Get away!”
I look up, shaken from my trance, and realize she isn’t Cathy at all. I drop the CD player, my hands shaking.
My Aunt is still staring up at it, rendered helpless in awe. I crawl over to her, tugging her arm. She doesn’t notice me, so I take her head between my hands, forcing her to look away.
She blinks, then shudders.
Together, and quiet, we move against the wall. I don’t know why, but I feel a certain intense feeling of danger coming from the thing hanging in our living room.
The girl stares it down, between us and it.
Whatever it is.
I smile to myself, strangely amused. I guess this was the best gift of all. I got my wish.