The Ugly Truth

That week passed slowly, without any major event happening. I didn’t talk or see anyone at all, mostly because I didn’t go out much. Some days I awoke full of energy and headed to the beach or walked around a little, but other days, all I could think about was Riley’s girlfriend and John.

On Thursday, I was home alone, cleaning up my closet a bit and choosing what to wear to Riley’s party. I was all alone, so I turned up the volume on my music to deafening levels. As a song ended, I heard the doorbell ring. I wasn’t expecting anyone, until around three or four, when my parents would come home from work.

As I opened the door, I saw Caroline standing before. I didn’t even say hi, I just stared at her, surprised.

“I’m only here to deliver your next task,” she began, “If you don’t mind me coming in, I’m going to tell you it in person.”

“Well, that’s new,” I replied, opening the door wider, so she could come in.

She walked over to one of the sofas and sat down, looking around without even trying to be discreet.

“I’m sure you are aware of the fact that Riley’s having a barbecue soon,” she commented.

“Yeah.”

“You’re going, right?”

“Yes.”

“It’s not like you have a choice,” she said, laughing, “There’s a pool at his house, so people will be hanging around there and eating. You’ll have to show up in a long sleeved and legged wetsuit.”

“I don’t have one.”

“Luckily for you, I brought you one,” she said, pulling it out of her huge tote, “I just hope it fits you.”

The look she gave me was one of pure cruelty. I hated her so much. If she didn’t have that picture over me, I would have slapped her or thrown the wetsuit at her violently. But, of course, I couldn’t.

“And make sure it shows. Don’t just hide it beneath clothes. Oh, and don’t think I won’t know what happens. I’ve got my contacts.”

She stood up, and seeing I was making no motion to accompany to the door, let herself out. Why did she always have to ruin everything? Now I was going to make a fool of myself at Riley’s party, all for that stupid picture.

I stared at the wetsuit. Maybe I could lie and say I had a really bad skin rash and couldn’t expose my skin to the sun, or that I couldn’t find my bikini. Except everyone would know I was lying and would think I’m a weirdo who doesn’t want to show even an inch of skin. But I had no choice.

As I was sulking around my house, I received a text from John asking if I wanted to hang out. I felt like I owed him an apology, so I agreed to meet him in an hour at the boardwalk. I kind of wanted to look nice, but at the same time I didn’t want to waste my energy on him. As I shifted through my clothes, I realized I didn’t even know what I felt for him. He was nice and cute and funny. There was absolutely nothing wrong with him, that I knew of. Why couldn’t I just like him? Maybe I was just stopping myself from it. Maybe all I had to do was open my heart and forget Riley once and for all. After all, he had his beautiful girlfriend and wouldn’t ever like me the way I liked him.

I drove to the boardwalk in a bittersweet mood. I wanted to get Riley out of my head, but I just couldn’t. I wondered what he was doing at that moment and I constantly looked around, hoping that by coincidence he would be around.

John was sitting on a bench, looking down at his phone, probably texting. He smiled when he spotted me approaching.

“Hi,” he said awkwardly, running a hand through his hair.

“Hi,” I repeated with a small smile.

“You look very pretty.”

I had finally settled on a coral day dress and brown wedges. Simple, yet cute.

“Thanks.”

“So, can we talk for a moment?”

“Yeah.”

We both sat down on the bench, and remained silent. I spoke first, breaking the ice.

“I’m sorry about what happened.”

“What part? Kissing me or running away?”

I didn’t really know.

“Running away.”

“So, you don’t regret kissing me?” he asked, with a smile.

“I just want you to know that, regardless of if I liked it or not, we shouldn’t have kissed.”

He just stayed staring at me for a while.

“I’m confused. You liked kissing me but you don’t think we should have done it? Or did you not like it and are you just being nice about it?”

“I’m confused too.”

“There’s another guy, right?”

And he hit home. Except, it was a lot harder admitting it to him than I had thought.

“It’s just that-”

“You don’t have to explain. I get it: I’m not exactly the best looking guy around, or the funniest or coolest, either for that matter.”

“No, John. You’re great. I’m the problem here.”

“You do notice you’re playing the it’s not you, it’s me card, right?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing. You don’t have to excuse your feelings. I understand you can’t help them.”

Why did he have to be so understanding and compassionate? It would have been so much easier if he had been a jerk about it.

“You know, I don’t even know why I doubt so much. The other guy keeps letting me down and you do nothing but treat me nicely.”

“Gives you a lot to think about, huh?”

“I just don’t want to decide anything without thinking it through.”

“I get it, but you know what happens when you do that too often?”

“What?”

“You end up empty-handed.”