my skin, like static. And yet, Ash went running.
So that’s mainly why I didn’t want to tell Jordan: I didn’t want his pity. I rarely discussed how my scars made me feel. I pretended they didn’t bother me. I never once said out loud that I didn’t get picked at an audition because of my face. I knew it. And I am sure Jordan did, too, but I always put on a smile and showed the world that none of it bothered me.
But it was a lie.
“That’s no surprise. He’s probably wandering around Wilshire as we speak,” I sniped.
“What going on with you two?” he asked.
It was easy to lie when Jordan wasn’t asking, but I hate flat-out lying, so I redirected.
“Why do you ask?”
“Because it’s obvious he likes you, you beautiful bitch.”
I rolled my eyes at him. If only he knew.
“Trust me, you’ve got it all wrong.”
“So am I also wrong when I say that I think you like him, too?”
I glared at Jordan’s onyx-colored eyes, as if to say, bitch, please. Then, I went back to the business of setting out my clothes.
“Sweetie. I am going to say what I am about to say because I love you.”
“Oh, god . . .” I chanted. Jordan would sometimes take on this fatherly role even though he wasn’t that much older than me, and it elicited the exact same reaction I would have to my dad when he would lecture me.
“He’s cute. Hell, he’s hot. He seems nice. And I know you feel a connection. This thing you do, where he paints and you dance. I get it, it’s beautiful. But—”
“I know, I know. He’s homeless, he’s probably fucked in the head, or a former junkie, or god knows what else!” I said, throwing my hands in the air. I was scolding myself more than lashing out at Jordan.
Jordan pursed his lips and snaked his neck. “Oh that’s right. I forgot Bird knows all.”
“I’m not the one handing out lectures,” I said.
“I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Too late,” I blurted out, immediately wishing I hadn’t.
“Did something happen?” he asked.
“Nope. Nothing happened. I can’t even get homeless guys to like me, apparently,” I said.
“So is that what this funk you’re in is about?” Jordan asked, standing up from the futon.
“I don’t know. I don’t want to talk about this anymore. You don’t have to worry about Ash, okay? He’s not interested, and who knows when he’ll show up again. You know he likes to disappear. We’re just friends.”
Jordan’s stare lingered for a bit, as if he was deciding whether or not he should call me out on my bullshit. But he chose to sit the battle out.
He kissed me on the top of my head. “Even though you are being a grumpy bitch this week, I still love you.”
“I love you, too,” I said flatly. I meant it, but I was just tired of being rejected, and it made me even too tired to put any energy into a genuine declaration of love.
Oh, and Jordan’s reaction was the other reason I didn’t want to tell him. I knew no one, not even Jordan could understand what Ash and I had going on. People only saw us on the outside. My scars, his situation. We saw each other inside out.
BIRD
I SAT ON the floor of the dance studio in disbelief. I had never gotten this far through the audition process. This time it was for a TV segment at an awards show. I could be on TV!
“All right ladies, here we go!” The choreographer who was auditioning us called out. She instructed us through a three-minute routine and I felt on-point. I flowed seamlessly from one movement to the next, every step ingrained in my muscle memory as if I had learned it before.
When we finally danced for the final round, I knew I had nailed it. If they had let me through this far, my scars must not have been an issue. Me and the other girls watched the choreographer and the two other people move head shots around as they chatted. Their eyes dashed up as they discussed us. I could have sworn I saw them look at me a few times.
After what seemed like an torturously long
So that’s mainly why I didn’t want to tell Jordan: I didn’t want his pity. I rarely discussed how my scars made me feel. I pretended they didn’t bother me. I never once said out loud that I didn’t get picked at an audition because of my face. I knew it. And I am sure Jordan did, too, but I always put on a smile and showed the world that none of it bothered me.
But it was a lie.
“That’s no surprise. He’s probably wandering around Wilshire as we speak,” I sniped.
“What going on with you two?” he asked.
It was easy to lie when Jordan wasn’t asking, but I hate flat-out lying, so I redirected.
“Why do you ask?”
“Because it’s obvious he likes you, you beautiful bitch.”
I rolled my eyes at him. If only he knew.
“Trust me, you’ve got it all wrong.”
“So am I also wrong when I say that I think you like him, too?”
I glared at Jordan’s onyx-colored eyes, as if to say, bitch, please. Then, I went back to the business of setting out my clothes.
“Sweetie. I am going to say what I am about to say because I love you.”
“Oh, god . . .” I chanted. Jordan would sometimes take on this fatherly role even though he wasn’t that much older than me, and it elicited the exact same reaction I would have to my dad when he would lecture me.
“He’s cute. Hell, he’s hot. He seems nice. And I know you feel a connection. This thing you do, where he paints and you dance. I get it, it’s beautiful. But—”
“I know, I know. He’s homeless, he’s probably fucked in the head, or a former junkie, or god knows what else!” I said, throwing my hands in the air. I was scolding myself more than lashing out at Jordan.
Jordan pursed his lips and snaked his neck. “Oh that’s right. I forgot Bird knows all.”
“I’m not the one handing out lectures,” I said.
“I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Too late,” I blurted out, immediately wishing I hadn’t.
“Did something happen?” he asked.
“Nope. Nothing happened. I can’t even get homeless guys to like me, apparently,” I said.
“So is that what this funk you’re in is about?” Jordan asked, standing up from the futon.
“I don’t know. I don’t want to talk about this anymore. You don’t have to worry about Ash, okay? He’s not interested, and who knows when he’ll show up again. You know he likes to disappear. We’re just friends.”
Jordan’s stare lingered for a bit, as if he was deciding whether or not he should call me out on my bullshit. But he chose to sit the battle out.
He kissed me on the top of my head. “Even though you are being a grumpy bitch this week, I still love you.”
“I love you, too,” I said flatly. I meant it, but I was just tired of being rejected, and it made me even too tired to put any energy into a genuine declaration of love.
Oh, and Jordan’s reaction was the other reason I didn’t want to tell him. I knew no one, not even Jordan could understand what Ash and I had going on. People only saw us on the outside. My scars, his situation. We saw each other inside out.
BIRD
I SAT ON the floor of the dance studio in disbelief. I had never gotten this far through the audition process. This time it was for a TV segment at an awards show. I could be on TV!
“All right ladies, here we go!” The choreographer who was auditioning us called out. She instructed us through a three-minute routine and I felt on-point. I flowed seamlessly from one movement to the next, every step ingrained in my muscle memory as if I had learned it before.
When we finally danced for the final round, I knew I had nailed it. If they had let me through this far, my scars must not have been an issue. Me and the other girls watched the choreographer and the two other people move head shots around as they chatted. Their eyes dashed up as they discussed us. I could have sworn I saw them look at me a few times.
After what seemed like an torturously long
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