Page 16 of Beneath the Helmet
I slip into an oversized white T-shirt and stare at myself curiously in the mirror. My shirt sticks to me in a half-wet state because I never have enough patience to dry myself off fully, leaving my black cotton panties and hard nipples clearly visible. Their light pink coloring pushes through the T-shirt’s cotton while my long brown hair sits soaking the shoulders and back of the shirt.
I’ve never been a skinny, skinny girl, but I've never had much to me either. There’s some shape there but only enough to be considered small and not petite. I secretly hope once I stop running that I’ll get more shape to me.
Turning around, I focus on my backside.
Tree has a bubble butt that sticks out like a freakin’ table, but mine’s way more subtle. Definitely nothing to wow at like hers is.
“Hm….,” I say aloud, analyzing my body. It’s hopeless to dream of ever looking like Tree with her perfectly slim waist, plumps lips, a v-cut in her abs and thick butt. She was naturally born with a beautiful body and long black curly hair. I had no chance.
The tingle quickly fades from all the thoughts about Tree and how my body can’t compare. I turn away from the mirror, disappointed, and sit on my bed, feeling discouraged and vulnerable, especially as I check my phone and see no further communication from Ben after asking if he was back with Tree.
Chapter Five.
The last few weeks of school go by in a blur, everything feeling the same yet different, like what I’ve always known is slowly fading and the school no longer feels like a place I belong.
With graduation next week, the buzz through our senior class is electric, albeit mixed with hesitation about the new world we’re about to enter into.
Rumors flow around the school that Ben and Tree aren’t officially dating, but they’ve been seen together randomly, acting like they’re a couple anyways. I don’t understand it but at least Ben and I are friends again, regardless of his situation with her. Turns out, he never texted me back that night because his phone died, dispelling my fears that I’d been blocked.
It took two weeks, but I finally mustered up the courage to re-ask him in person what his relationshipwith Tree was and he answered the question without all the jealousy jokes.
“We’re not officially dating because I’m sick of her boundaries…but we are friends with benefits.” Then, he awkwardly shrugged his shoulders and walked away. I had no idea what that meant until I ran into Shirley after school, and she told me what friends with benefits entails. It really upset me that he’s not even dating her but continues to sleep with her. I don’t understand the point. Why mess around with someone if you don’t intend on being with them? There’s no way a situation like that ends well, and Shirley agreed with me.
She also said Ben’s a typical guy and just wants to satisfy his sexual cravings, but I can’t see him like that. He’s always been my sweet, caring guy friend who would never need something like that.
We’ve been back to our old selves besides these few random incidents that made me question how I felt about him. He’s flirted more openly with me on a few occasions, as well as other girls around school. I don’t know if I like this new side of him. His constant flirting shows he’s changed. Ben seems to be two different people. I rarely know which one I'll encounter each day.
I know he always has women after him, but he’s never played into that playboy type until lately. Tree, on multiple occasions, has threatened the other girls he’sflirted with. Not with anything crazy, but with empty threats such as, “look at him again and I’ll cut your eyes out with the scissors in my backpack”, or my personal favorite, “if you talk to him again, you won’t make it to graduation”.
She hasn’t pointed any threats at me so far, but I’m assuming it’s because she knows if she does it’ll risk any chance she has at fully getting back together with Ben. Although that doesn’t dissuade her from staring daggers at me any time I enter her line of sight.
We never all hang out together, but if I’m sitting with Ben at lunch or in class, her lips will tense into a thin line and her eyes will blacken from anger in the distance. It’s quite off-putting.
I don’t egg her on, but I definitely don’t hide from her anymore either. She’s never followed through on any of her threats on any of the random girls he’s flirted with, so I assume I’m safe. If she actually does do something to someone one of these days, then I'll reassess, and tell Ben.
“Hey, Charlotte!”
I turn around in the parking lot to see Jared, one of the relay runners on our track team, running up to me.
“Oh, hey Jared. What’s up?”
His long blonde hair is in a tied-up bun, the sides stuck to his tan, clean shaven face from sweat. He’s stilltraining because he’s going to Jenkins University after graduation, the school notorious for pumping out pro-athletes for Track and Field. You can always find him at the track after school.
“Nothing much! I wanted to give you this while I was thinking about it,” he beams brightly handing me his graduation party invite.
“Oh! Thanks Jared, that’s so nice of you. I’ll try to stop by.”
“Is that an actual I’ll try to stop by, or an ‘I’m just being polite Charlotte’ response where you don’t show up,” he confidently states, giving me a wink.
My neck twitches back, taken aback by his upfront honesty, especially since we’ve barely talked over the years. He was right though; I’ve been invited to track and cross-country parties each year since the seventh grade but never went because I didn’t want to and my automatic response when invited has always been “I’ll try to stop by”.
“Sorry, Jared. I promise I'll be there,” I chuckle awkwardly, shifting on my feet with my previous true intentions hanging in the air.
Guess it won’t kill me to go. Plus, I’ll likely never see him again after his party anyways, and he’s always been an all-around nice guy. What could it hurt?
“Good! Are you having a graduation party or anything? I’d love to come!”
My shoulders turtle up. No one’s asked me if I was going to have one let alone if they could come.
