The Cat That Went to Homecoming Page 6

  I stood up and pushed the chair back into place. Hershey was rubbing my legs and flopped onto my feet. I squatted down to pet my boy and give his chin a rub. “I won’t be seeing my dad when he comes to town. I have other plans. Please excuse me, Mom, but I need some time alone.”

  I left the kitchen and headed for my bedroom. Hershey raced me to the room and he naturally won. He was lying across the foot of my bed when I entered and I quietly shut the door. I was upset, but slamming the door shut was not going to make me feel any better, plus it would just frighten Hershey if I did. It wasn’t Mom’s fault my dad was such an ass. It wasn’t my fault, either.

  I had to absorb the information my mom just shared with me. My dad had not paid any child support since he left! That felt like a slap in the face. Why wasn’t I important enough to him? I understood the purpose of child support. It was money the non-custodial parent paid towards the living expenses of their child for food, clothing, and shelter. My mom was not the kind of person who would squander support money on herself. She was a hard-working, dedicated woman.

  As I passed my vanity, I caught my reflection in the mirror and stopped. The abrasion on my face was red and shiny from the ointment. I looked like the Phantom of the Opera wearing a red satin mask. I leaned in close to the mirror and looked myself in the eyes.

  “It’s time to change your life around, Ellen,” I said out loud to my reflection. “Are you ready?” Hershey was suddenly on the vanity rubbing up against me, purring.

  “Are we ready Hersh?” I asked him. His response was a head butt against the good side of my face.

  Chapter Twelve

  Mom allowed me to turn our spare bedroom into an office for myself since it was only being used for storage. Mom had bought me an inexpensive ready-to-assemble desk at Wal-Mart, so we set up my workspace. My application had been sent to Pet Partners and it would be a few weeks before I heard anything from them, but in the meantime, I was getting ready to start my new phase in life.

  We worked together going through all the junk in the room, my old toys, holiday decorations, and clothing that we had outgrown. I found a swimsuit that had belonged to my mom some years ago, a sassy little red one-piece.

  “Mom, can I try this on?” I asked, holding the suit out for her to see. “Cindy invited me over to swim on Saturday and I don’t have a suit.”

  “You certainly can! And somewhere in here there’s a sarong wrap that matches. I’ll look for it while you go try on the suit.”

  I sprinted to my room and closed the door, excited and scared at the same time. I hadn’t worn a swimsuit in years! I didn’t even know what size I wore. I looked at the tag in the suit—Medium. Oh boy, I doubted a medium would fit me. I knew the Lycra fabric in swimsuits had some give to it, but I didn’t want to look like a sausage stuffed into its casing!

  Hershey was scratching at the outside of the door wanting to join me, but this was something I wanted to do alone. With a sigh, I undressed and held the suit out in front of me. I stepped into the leg holes, and closed my eyes tight as I pulled the suit up over my hips. It fit! I pulled the built in bra up over my breasts and put my arms through the shoulder straps, eye still shut. I ran my hands down the sides of my body, feeling the smooth fabric.

  I opened my eyes and faced the vanity mirror to see what I looked like. To my surprise, I looked okay. I wouldn’t go out in public in the suit, but I looked better than I would have a few months ago. The snug fabric flattened my belly pouch so that I didn’t look pregnant, but my legs bulged out of the leg holes most unattractively. Why can’t someone make swim suits that cover the thighs? The suit fit my breasts well, and apparently that was one area I had not lost any weight because I had ample cleavage. Holy crap!

  Mom knocked on the door, “I found the sarong,” she said. “Can I come in?”

  I quickly checked to make sure the bruises on my ribs weren’t visible. Good, the suit covered them all. I let her in.

  “Wow,” she said. I was suddenly very embarrassed.

  “I don’t know about this,” I said as I clumsily tried to cover myself with my arms.

  “Trust me, Ellen, you look fine!” She stepped forward and pulled my arms away from my body. She wrapped the sarong around my waist and stepped back to look at me.

  “Go take a look in the mirror,” she said, with a smile.

  I walked over to the vanity and looked at myself. My legs rubbed together at the thighs, and were pasty white from never having seen the sun. My arms were chubby with no muscular definition. But I once again I noticed the hint of collarbones.

  “No, Mom, I’m sorry, this just doesn’t work for me,” I said.

  She sighed. “Well, then, we will have to go shopping. You can’t go swimming at Cindy’s house in jeans and a t-shirt! Get dressed and meet me at the car.”

  “Mom, I will find something to wear, don’t—”

  She raised her hand and cut me off. “Enough! I told you we are receiving child support now, and it’s about time your dad bought you something you need. Now get your butt out of my swimsuit and into some clothes. We’re going shopping!” She teased with a dirty grin.

  We ended up at a department store. Mom led me through the juniors section despite my arguing with her that junior sizes didn’t fit me. She grabbed a tankini with boy shorts and told me to go try it on.

  “Mom, you’re out of your mind! This won’t fit me,” I said.

  She didn’t respond. She just pushed me towards the fitting room. I had no choice but to do as she asked. I closed the door, grumbling to myself, and faced the mirror.

  I undressed and pulled the boy shorts on over my panties. Hmm, they fit, and they covered just enough of my thighs. What an ingenious idea! Whoever came up with the idea of boy short swim bottoms should be given an award!

  I pulled the tankini top over my head and adjusted my breast into the cups. Once again, to my surprise, it fit. I stepped back and looked at myself, turning from side to side. I didn’t think I looked that bad, in fact, I was smiling. I actually liked this swim suit. The only problem was that the sides dipped down low enough that the bruises on my left side showed a little bit. I knew Mom would want to see me in the suit, and then she’d see the bruises.

  “Well, Ellen? What’s taking so long?” I heard her say outside of the door.

  “I like it. I’ll take it,” I replied.

  “Let me see it,” she said impatiently. I sighed, held my left arm tight to my side and opened the door.

  Mom whistled at me when she saw me. “Wow!” she said. “You look fantastic Ellen! And you thought it wouldn’t fit!”

  I just laughed her off and blushed. “Okay, okay, you were right. I’m going to take this off now.”

  We walked past racks of clothing on our way to the cashier. Mom pulled a pair of shorts off one rack and made me try them on. Four pairs of shorts and two graphic t-shirts later, we made it to the cashier.

  The day of the swimming party, I started getting ready at eleven o clock in the morning. I was so excited, I couldn’t wait! I had my boy shorts on under a pair of denim shorts, and I was trying to decide if I should put one of my new t-shirts on over the tankini top or not. I wanted to go without the t-shirt, but I figured if I felt uncomfortable being so bare, I would have a miserable time. It would be best to stay as covered up as possible. I ended up throwing the t-shirt on.

  Before she left for work, Mom had laid out some of her makeup for me to put on if I wanted to. I was sixteen years old and had never worn makeup! I didn’t want to look like a clown, so I sat at my computer and Googled how to apply makeup subtly.

  By one o’clock I was ready with an hour to kill. It seemed like a good time to take Hershey out for his daily walk. Besides, he was irritated at my neglect of him all morning!

  We walked to the end of the driveway and Hershey decided he needed to investigate the tall grass in the ditch of our yard. I sat on the edge of the ditch with a light hold on his leash while he explored the grass and small pool of
water. To his surprise, a frog hopped out of the puddle and made Hershey jump a good foot straight up in the air! Then he tried to chase it, but was stopped short by the tension in the leash. Laughing at his silly antics, I stood up to pick him up when I heard a car horn honk.

  I looked up to find Brandon behind the wheel of a red Chevy Cavalier.

  “Hey, there, good looking. What are you up to?” he said through the open window. I blushed deeply. Did he call me good looking?

  “Hi, Brandon, I’m just walking Hershey. Looks like you got your driver’s license. Cool! Is this your car?” I asked, still blushing.

  “Yep, I passed the road test on the first try, and got my license last week. My parents let me use this car, but it’s not in my name. I’m guessing that they’ll sign it over to me eventually, but not yet. Are you going over to Cindy’s?” he asked.

  I told him I was and he offered to drive me there. I told him I had to take Hershey back into the house, so he should just go without me and I’d be there soon.

  “I can wait for you, besides, it’s a little early. Maybe we could hang out here for a while?”

  I was dumbfounded, never in my life had I had a boy in my house with me! I’m pretty sure I looked shocked because he said, “I promise, I won’t bite.” His comment made me laugh. I picked up Hershey and said, “Park in my driveway and meet me at the door.” On my way to the house, I stopped at the mail box and grabbed the mail.

  I unleashed Hershey when we entered the house and stood at the door to let Brandon in. While I waited for him, I sifted through the mail and came across a big envelope from Pet Partners! I opened it to find my acceptance letter, my name badge, Hershey’s Pet Partner’s tag and his service animal vest. I let out a “whoot whoot” and jumped up and down just as Brandon got to the door. I opened the door for him and without realizing what I was doing, I hugged him in excitement.

  “I got it!” I kept saying as I hugged Brandon. “It’s official!”

  Brandon was chuckling, but did not push me away. Instead, he jumped up and down with me! When I realized what I was doing, I backed away from him and apologized. I was beet red with embarrassment.

  “You don’t have to be sorry,” he said, “and congratulations!”

  It was a very awkward few minutes of me not knowing exactly what to do. Should I offer him a glass of lemonade? Watch TV? I didn’t have a game system, like Xbox or Wii.

  “I’m going to put this stuff on my desk. I’ll be right back.” I figured Brandon might think to make a quick escape, and I wouldn’t blame him. But instead, he followed me.

  He was looking around my “office”, stopped at a poster on the wall of Maroon Five, and then sat in my computer chair.

  “This is pretty cool, you have your own office,” he said. I laughed.

  “I guess you could say that,” I said.

  Hershey was at Brandon’s feet, smelling his shoes and assessing him in his cat manner. “Hey, little dude,” Brandon said as he bent down to pet Hershey’s head, “You got a job before I did!” Hershey stood with his front paws on Brandon’s legs and head butted his knees.

  “I think Hershey likes you,” I said.

  “I have two cats, so he can probably tell I’m a cat person,” Brandon said.

  I sat on the floor and pet Hershey while Brandon went on to tell me more about himself. The awkwardness I felt earlier disappeared completely and I found myself at ease with Brandon. He talked about his school, and I got the impression he did not enjoy going there.

  “It has to better than my school,” I said.

  “No, I seriously doubt that,” he said. “I’m pretty sure it doesn’t matter where you go to school, when you’re different, you’re not accepted anywhere.”

  I could not imagine Brandon being “different”. Since he attended a Catholic school, I assumed the kids would be nice and God-fearing? Weren’t they taught ‘Do unto others as you would have done unto you?’

  “Brandon, I don’t mean to pry, but I’m curious. Why do you think you are different?”

  “Do you know who my father is?” he asked me.

  “No, should I?” I asked, kind of surprised.

  “Do you remember when the police chief of our county was caught with a male prostitute four years ago?” I did recall that story, although four years ago I did not fully understand what homosexuality or prostitution was.

  “That man is my father,” he said, searching my face for a reaction I didn’t give him.

  “So? Why does that matter?” I asked, truly meaning it. Why DID it matter?

  “Ellen,” he sighed and looked at the ground, “everyone at every school I’ve attended since then thinks I’m gay.” He looked up and watched me in complete silence for a minute while I tried to find the words to say in response. I was speechless and confused.

  “Okay, well ARE you gay?” I dared to ask.

  He just looked at me blankly, sadly. “Would it matter if I were?” He asked in return.

  I gave him a soft smile, put my hand on his knee, and said, “Absolutely not Brandon. Does it matter to you that I’m overweight?”

  “First of all, Ellen, you’re not overweight, and second of all, I like the person you are, not the size of the person you are.”

  We spent the next two hours sharing our life stories with one another. Brandon said his parents divorced after the scandal broke, and his mom eventually remarried. His stepfather was a real jerk. He insinuated at every opportunity that Brandon was “like his father” and after Brandon had been expelled from several schools for getting into fights, his stepfather convinced his mom that sending him to a religious high school might put “the fear of God” in him and change him, as if Brandon was the one who needed changing.

  I opened up and told Brandon about my life, telling him about all the cruel things kids at school said and did to me. I told him about my life-long crush on John Peck, and all of the ridiculous daydreams I would have about him. I told him about the pain my dad put me through after leaving my mom, and how I just found out that he didn’t even care enough for me to send my mom support. Then I told him how and why I detached myself from Cindy, and how much I regretted that.

  Brandon stood from the chair and offered a hand to help me up. “Well let’s fix that and head over to Cindy’s. I’m very close to her, and I can tell you that she is very fond of you.”

  Brandon and I were the last two to arrive at Cindy’s house. I was so nervous that I chewed the ends of my nails down until my fingers bled as we walked around the house to the back yard. I was so thankful I decided to wear the t-shirt over my swim suit. I found myself tugging at the bottom of it, trying to stretch it down over my butt before we rounded the corner. Who would I find sitting back there? Would Darcel and her evil minions be waiting to pounce on me?

  Mrs. Haskel was the first to greet me. She was pouring ice into a cooler when she looked up and saw me.

  “Ellen! It’s been a long time, how are you dear?” she asked as she offered me a hug.

  “Hi, Mrs. Haskel, it’s good to see you again,” I said to her as we hugged.

  She held me out in front of her and looked me over. I suddenly felt awkward and uneasy.

  “Ellen, you’re all grown up and you sure are a beauty!” she said, probably just trying to be nice. I knew I wasn’t beautiful, but it was nice to have two people say it to me in one day. I thanked her.

  She offered Brandon and me a soda and called out for Cindy who was in the pool with Sarah and Margaret.

  “Look who’s here, Cindy!” Mrs. Haskel called out. Cindy waved at us and told us to get in the pool. Oh brother! That meant I had to take off my shorts and t-shirt. I felt pretty confident in the swim suit when I tried it on in the dressing room, and in the shelter of my own bedroom, but suddenly I didn’t feel so courageous.

  “Come on,” Brandon said as he tugged me towards the pool. Momentarily, I considered hopping in fully dressed, but quickly decided that was a bad idea. I wouldn’t have any dry clothes to pu
t on after we were finished in the pool. Brandon pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it aside as he climbed the ladder. Mrs. Haskel shook her head and walked over, picking up Brandon’s shirt. “I’ll take your clothes for you and put them on a lawn chair. You do have a swim suit on, right?”

  I nodded, took a deep breath, and pulled off my shorts and shirt. I handed them to Mrs. Haskel and wound my arms around myself in an attempt to hide. I made my way to the ladder and started to climb, my legs shaking a little in apprehension. I sat on the top platform of the ladder and dangled my feet in the water while I had my arms wrapped around my trunk. Brandon swam up to me and pulled me in the water by my feet. Splash!

  Wow! It was cold! The shock of sinking into the cool water made me forget my insecurity and when I surfaced, I scolded Brandon who was laughing hysterically.

  “I like that suit, Ellen, where did you get it?” Margaret asked.

  “Me, too,” added Sarah, “I love tankinis, but they’re hard to find.” Sarah had swum over to me to get a closer look at my suit. I really wanted them to focus on something other than me and my suit, and I think Brandon sensed that because he said “Geez, enough with the fashion talk, let’s play some water volleyball!”

  Cindy set up a floating net in the center of the pool and we split into teams. We decided that whoever was with Brandon had an unfair advantage since Brandon was a guy, so it was three on two, Cindy and Brandon against Sara, Margaret, and me.

  Somehow in the midst of playing in the pool, I forgot all my insecurities and dropped my guard. I was enjoying myself immensely! We played for hours, switching teams around, taking breaks between games to just float on air mattresses, and to slide down the slide.

  Mrs. Haskel made burgers for lunch and after we ate, we all laid out on beach towels in the sun. “You can’t go in the water for twenty minutes after eating,” Mrs. Haskel told us.

  Sarah and Margaret were both on their cell phones, taking goofy pictures of themselves and posting them to Facebook, and Brandon was napping. Cindy and I were sitting in awkward silence, so I decided to break the silence.