The Art of Getting Stared At
“Lexi demands when “ we meet outside ten minutes later. Her hair is up in a sloppy topknot; turquoise chandelier earrings dangle from her earlobes. “You look like you got attacked by a purple pencil crayon.”
I didn’t think it looked that bad. Maybe when you start going bald, your standards slip. More likely I never had any standards in the first place. “It’s a long story.” I rub at the offending lipstick.
By unspoken agreement, we cross the student parking lot, walk across the street to the bank..., and turn the corner to the coffee shop. The smell of dark roast hits me like a welcome slap.
“So what’s going on?” Lexi pulls her slouchy grey sweater tight and wraps her arms around her waist.
I don’t know where to start. I can’t stop thinking about what Breanne said about my eyebrows. How I’ll look on tape at the laughter flash mob. What Isaac will say.
“So?” she prompts.
“Do I look like a tranny?”
She gapes at me. “A what?”
“Sssh. Don’t yell!” I tug her past the florist.MoreLess
I didn’t think it looked that bad. Maybe when you start going bald, your standards slip. More likely I never had any standards in the first place. “It’s a long story.” I rub at the offending lipstick.
By unspoken agreement, we cross the student parking lot, walk across the street to the bank..., and turn the corner to the coffee shop. The smell of dark roast hits me like a welcome slap.
“So what’s going on?” Lexi pulls her slouchy grey sweater tight and wraps her arms around her waist.
I don’t know where to start. I can’t stop thinking about what Breanne said about my eyebrows. How I’ll look on tape at the laughter flash mob. What Isaac will say.
“So?” she prompts.
“Do I look like a tranny?”
She gapes at me. “A what?”
“Sssh. Don’t yell!” I tug her past the florist.MoreLess
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