Blindness(72)

I’m envisioning driving off the road, crashing my car into a tree. Not crashing so hard that I hurt myself, just enough to inconvenience my evening, give me an excuse to avoid it all.





Yeah, I can do that. Be there soon.





I gather up the drawings and tuck them away inside a cloth in my bag to make sure they’re safe from the rain. I’m driving down my familiar route home when I have a sudden urge to stop at one of the large department stores at the mall on the way. I’m not much of a shopper—as is evidenced by my very dull and dated closet. But Cody’s words have been playing in my head all day.

“There’s more Mac in me…”

I wonder what those pieces are, and how do I uncover them?

I run from the parking lot into the nearest entrance and start to load up my arms with every outfit I see, honing in on the things that look nothing like me, or at least the me I’ve been. I frighten the meek assistant working in the women’s department with the sheer volume of garments I throw over her arms on our way to the dressing room. She seems a little nervous that I’m going to ask for multiple sizes of every last piece I bring in.

The denim skirt with the cowboy boots is the first up. I like the look, it feels flirty and country—very Louisville—but it’s not me. The animal print dress is next, and that one just makes me laugh. Too Vegas!

Within minutes, my feet are buried in a sea of failed attempts, and I’m down to only a few more hangers. There’s a short black skirt with a sheer white blouse and an extremely tall pair of black heels. Normally, I’d shy away from the heels, because of my fear of falling and the height they would add to my already tall frame, but I’ve got a strange sensation brewing in my gut—I feel like this, this, might just be me.

I slide the skirt up and tuck the top in next. It’s sophisticated, but it also screams of sex appeal. It says that I’m confident, and that I’m not afraid. But it also says I’m mature and not out for games. I put the heels on last, and I turn to look at myself from all sides.

Oh my god, this is who I am!

I don’t even pull the tags off. I gather up the discarded items and pile them on the table outside the dressing room. I find my shy store clerk and ask her to cut the tags for me and ring me up. She’s raising an eyebrow at me, but I just peer down at her from my nearly five-inch advantage.

Two hundred dollars later, I’m back in my car, my hair a little moist from the dash back to my vehicle, but my blouse barely wet. I threw in a fake leather jacket at the last minute, and I’m glad, because my look won’t work tonight if it’s dripping from rain.

The humidity has my hair curling more than normal; I pull it loose from the knotted tie I had it in for most of the day and fluff it out around my shoulders. I work on my make-up at stoplights and finish off my lipstick in the driveway. I see Gabe and Jessie standing at the front door, and I recognize the Sumners’ car pulling up behind me. I feel my pulse kick up with nerves; I wasn’t aware that we were all going out together.

But I’m glad everyone is here. I want their reaction; I’m actually excited. Jessie’s walking over to me, so I take a deep breath and open my door to get out. When she stops in her tracks and grins ear-to-ear, I know I did good.

“Damn, girl!” she whispers, walking up to me and looking over everything. I pull the umbrella out quickly and tuck her underneath with me.

“This rain is going to wreck everything,” I say, opening the jacket a little to reveal the shear blouse underneath. I have a white silk shell on, but there already isn’t much left to the imagination. Adding water would be a lot like pornography at this point.

“The guys are going to shit themselves,” she says. “Especially one…if that’s why you did this?”

I smile at her and nod. I did do this for Cody. I mean, deep down I really did it for me, because I’m tired of not knowing who I really am. But I also had his text in mind. I want him to think I’m beautiful tonight, and I want him to say it—to me.

“Charlotte, what the heck are you wearing?” Trevor says. My face falls flat—both because of his reaction, and because he’s not the one I’m here to see. I breathe deeply and turn to look at him.

“You like it?” I say, spinning to the side just a little, careful to stay under my umbrella. “I just picked it up. I wanted to get something new, for tonight.”

I’m waiting for his response, but I’m also looking over his shoulder, waiting for Cody to turn around. They’re all gathered beneath the eve of the front door, and Kyla has her arm tucked firmly in his. She’s going to be tough competition tonight—her dress is a small, black, strappy one, and her stockings are fishnet. She looks like a Victoria’s Secret catalogue cover.

“You just don’t look very comfortable, that’s all. But we’re going to Mancini’s and then that new club, Six, so you should fit right in,” he says, turning back away from me to talk to the Sumners who have now made their way out to the driveway as well.

My stomach sinks. I start to pull my jacket around me tighter, biting my lip to keep it from quivering and to stop the cry I feel on the verge. I feel so stupid for thinking I could buy some clothes and become this different person. I look up and see Kyla’s long legs swaying with her walk toward me, and I feel even smaller. I don’t have a walk—I’m lucky to have survived the sprint from the store to the car.