Be Free, Be You

I felt like shit, to put it as simply as possible. Because although I was hurt, as if someone had stabbed me through the heart, about the fact that Valarie turned me down and told me there was no way that she was keeping up the charade, as well as basically telling me that I was ridiculously untalented, it was worse beyond that. I had gotten her in trouble, threatened her position on the Cheerios (which meant the world to her), and threatened to tell everyone her secret about being bulimic, simply so that I could have her talent to myself.

God, how selfish I was. What was wrong with me?

My stomach churned and my eyes watered the more I thought about it. I was really a disgusting person.
I hadn’t realized as much before I started texting Artie, whom I barely knew, yet told the entire situation to. The entire past crept up on me, making me have a whole revelation about how in the wrong I was. He didn’t even have to tell me that I was out of line for me to realize it.

I sat on my bed and tried as hard as I might to expel from the thoughts in my mind from burying my brain into writing my novel, but no matter how much I tried to force the words to come, they refused. I kept finding myself going back to dwelling in my misery.

Finally, I closed my laptop, not thinking about the fact that Puck might message me on Facebook, and turned to the television to watch something, hoping that it would make me feel better.

I always thought that the day I got my first kiss would be the day that I’d remember forever in happiness. That it would be the best day of my life, something that I could tell my kids, my grandkids, my great-grandkids, and look back on it with fondness.

Instead, the day and event was marred by the memory that Valarie finally stood up to me, the bully in this case, to tell me that I really was getting in the way of her happiness.

How could I do that? I’d always been, if anything, the nice sister, the one who had some empathy to other people. Yet, I was flawed. I’d gotten so wrapped up in myself that I didn’t even stop to think about her feelings.

I sighed, realizing that even America’s Next Top Model wasn’t keeping me from thinking about what a horrible sister I was.

Outside my room, I heard the familiar squeak of the floorboards as Valarie made her way downstairs. She was probably going over Santana’s house so the two of them could talk about their success on the Cheerios and Valarie could talk about how horrible I was and Santana could nod in agreement before chiming in about how I was lame and unfashionable and, basically, a walking mistake.

I wiped a tear away from my eye, trying to tell myself that crying was no longer an option. I’d cried my share. After all, I was the one in the wrong, not Valarie. How could I have threatened to tell anyone about her eating disorder? She trusted me when she told me, as her sister, a friend that she could depend on for life. Did that not mean anything to me?

Finally, I glanced over at the clock, seeing that it was ten thirty. Sighing, I got up, showered, and climbed into bed, hoping that sleep would bring some relief to the guilt that was absolutely ripping me apart inside.

It took a long time for the sleep to come, but once it did, it was successful in providing me the help I so desired.

* * *

“Hello?” I greeted once the phone had stopped ringing, figuring that someone answered the phone but forgot to say hi.

“Who is this?” Puck’s angry voice responded. “If this is a prank call, I’ll save you the trouble: I will not catch my refrigerator because it’s not running.”

“Then you might want to get it fixed,” I joked as lightheartedly as I could force. “But I’m not calling to prank you. It’s Steph.”

There was a sigh of recognition. “Oh, okay. I guess it does sound like you. I must have forgotten to program your number into my phone.”

“It’s fine. And I know this is going to be weird, but do you think you could drive me to school? Val slept over a friend’s house last night, and I don’t think she’s coming home this morning. Or, if she is, she’s late.”

“Sure, I guess. I’ll be there in ten.”

“Thanks,” I responded, but he had already hung up on me.

Another misconception about having my first kiss, I guessed. I thought that Puck would want to be with me all the time, that we’d fall madly in love, that I’d finally have a boyfriend who cared about me.

But instead, I got Puck, who was being really unclear about everything and acted as if the kiss never happened. He probably didn’t understand how much it meant to me, finally kissing him. After all, he probably started making out with girls when he was in kindergarten.

I grabbed my backpack off the floor of my bedroom and threw it over my shoulder before hurrying down the stairs so I was there in plenty of time to meet Puck, before my parents saw that I was getting picked up by a boy. Not that they’d disapprove, but it’d be sure to elicit tons of questions about who he was and what his status was. And I didn’t want to give too much thought to what the relationship between the two of us was.

Around fifteen minutes later, a truck pulled into the driveway, honking loudly. I raced out the door and climbed into the passenger’s seat.

“Hey,” Puck said before putting the car into reverse and shooting out of the driveway.

“Hi,” I responded, folding my arms in front of my small chest.

“Oh, I saw Val yesterday after school. She looked majorly pissed. She okay?”

“I don’t know,” I replied, noticing that my voice sounded completely devoid of emotion.

Thankfully, Puck had the empathy of a brick wall and didn’t notice my tone. He pulled into his parking spot and reached into the backseat, his hand brushing my arm, to grab his backpack.

“Thanks for the ride,” I granted. “I’ll see you after school to tutor?”

He nodded slowly.

I reached over to open the door, but I felt his hand clasp around my arm before I could get out. “Something wrong?” I asked, trying not to get freaked out about his forcefulness.

“Do you really want to go to class?” he questioned, a mischievous glint in his eye.

I swallowed, knowing that I was misinterpreting him. “What?”

Instead of answering with words, he let go of his backpack, which was still resting in the backseat, to grab my face between his hands, pressing his lips against mine.

I felt myself melt and opened my mouth to let his tongue have access, a little sigh escaping from deep down.

And as he kissed me, his hands reaching back to pull out my ponytail, letting my long hair fall loose around my shoulders and back, I found the only foolproof way to forget about my selfishness and my fight with Valarie at last.