A Girl by Any Other Name by Mk Schiller Page B

jabbed her fingers
    into me as she asked every question. “Did he say I was a freak? Did he say I was a retarded mute?
    Did he say I was a psycho anorexic? I’ve heard them all and they don’t bother me. They shouldn’t
    bother you either.”
    I grabbed her shoulders and brought her face close to mine. “They fucking bother the hell out of
    me.” Her eyes widened and her breath quickened. I let go, realizing I was probably scaring her. “But
    that’s not what he said.”
    “Then what?”
    I sighed, knowing she’d keep asking until I relinquished the information. “He said you had nice
    tits and a fine ass.”
    To my annoyance, she started laughing. “Hell, Tex, that’s kind of a compliment.”
    “Not to me. He can’t check you out like that.” I was getting pissed. Not at her. She couldn’t help
    it that she was hot. She had started wearing regular clothes and doing away with the powder crap.
    She was wearing jeans and a simple T-shirt. She wasn’t trying to be appealing, and the clothes were
    still loose on her, but her beauty was apparent. How could it not show through with those long, silky
    curls that made a man’s hand twitch with desire to run his fingers through them? That perfect creamy
    complexion that looked like the sun had blessed her with a perfect tan. Those pouty kissable lips with
    the bottom one slightly plumper than the top, jutting out so invitingly. Guys noticed and I didn’t like it
    one bit. I’d always known she was beautiful, but that was a fact I really wanted to keep to myself.
    “Why not?”
    Was she trying to piss me off? The thing that really sucked about it was that we weren’t together
    in that way. Since I’d kissed her last year, we hadn’t done anything else. Well…except sleep together.
    Not sexually, but ever since my father had died, I’d found it difficult to fall asleep alone. She needed
    me too. I didn’t know if there was a limit to the number of nightmares someone could have, but this
    girl was surely exceeding a quota.
    I’d sneak over to her house at night and we’d fall asleep talking. We didn’t do anything except
    sleep, although on more than one occasion I’d woken up with a serious boner. She’d just laugh and
    push me away. I practically ran away from her when that happened. It was weird, because I’d gone
    out with other girls in the last year. Nothing serious. Truthfully, I was just waiting for her to give me a
    sign, a signal that she wanted me, but she seemed to be taking her damn sweet time. She didn’t even
    seem jealous, which was weird, because I knew she had feelings for me. Yet I couldn’t even stand the
    idea of Nate making comments about Sylvie’s body, let alone looking at her.
    “It’s degrading to you,” I stammered.
    “It doesn’t bother me.”
    I grabbed her arm and pulled her toward me, “It bothers the hell out of me.”
    “Don’t get yourself in trouble for me again. I mean it.”
    “I can do whatever I want, Sylvie.”
    “No, you can’t. Not if you care about me…please.”
    “Why?”
    “Because, I’ll never forgive myself if you get hurt.”
    “I can take on Nate or any other guy that I need to. I won’t let anyone talk about you like that.”
    “There are a lot tougher people than Nate Mitchell in the world.” Her voice sounded weary and
    tired all of a sudden and I wondered what she was talking about…certainly not our world.
    “I swear you are the weirdest girl, you know that?” I said, making a sad attempt at humor.
    She smiled, “Yeah, I know. Come on,” she said, taking my hand. “I want to clean you up before
    your momma sees your face and has a heart attack.”
    We walked into her house. It was dark as it always was. Her father was snoring on the couch
    with an empty Glenlivet bottle on the table. It wasn’t unusual. She stared at me, placing her fingers to
    her lips to secure my silence, which was ridiculous. The man was so far gone he didn’t know even
    know what day of the week it