So I tried to make some light-hearted conversation to distract my boyfriend as we ate.
“Do you want to go out this weekend?” I chirped, giving him a flirty smile. “I hear the new Ironman movie is good.”
“Seriously Janie,” Don sighed, rolling his eyes at me. “You know I don’t have that kind of money. The theaters in Manhattan are so expensive. What is it, like twenty bucks a movie now? No. Out of the question.”
I flushed. I didn’t think a movie once in a while would break the bank.
“Well, maybe if we do the matinee, it’ll be less,” I suggested hesitantly. “Would that work?”
“No,” Don said, shaking his head. “Sheffield is expensive and I don’t know how you’re affording everything. What, does Daddy pay for you?” he sneered. “Unfortunately, some of us have to skimp.”
That stung because in fact, my dad wasn’t paying for me. If anything, my dad is in the construction business and business has been tough recently.
“No,” I said stiffly. “My father doesn’t help me actually. I’m supporting myself.”
Don just sniffed.
“Well, I’m sure you get some help from somewhere,” he said airily. “You’re not good enough for a full scholarship at Sheffield.”
That was true, but it was rude of him to even say that. I wanted to tell him off, but I bit my tongue again, shaking my head. Don was in a bad mood, and there was no reason to poke the bear. As a result, I ate in silence as he blabbered away. In fact, my internal robot took over so that I nodded and smiled at all the right times, not hearing a word he said. Come to think of it, it was much nicer this way. Don was so handsome, and when he was muted in my head, it was actually kind of pleasant being around him.
But lunch was soon over and it was time to head back to class.
“You’re bloated,” he said, looking sideways at my stomach. It was true because I’d felt a little nauseous and had some fizzy water, hoping the carbon dioxide would settle my stomach. But it hadn’t all passed yet so my tummy pooched a little. It was cute if you asked me, but unfortunately, Don thought otherwise.
“I can’t be seen with you, Janie, and I definitely can’t dance with you this way,” he stated decidedly, his eyebrows furrowed. “Stay here until that goes away and then come back to class,” he commanded.
I jerked, aghast. Really? Don wanted me avoid our classmates so that no one could see my stomach in my tight dancer’s clothes?
But it was true. Prince Valiant was already packing up his bag and walking out with his nose in the air. Even then, other women watched hungrily as he strode by. If only I could tell them how rude he was sometimes, and how critical, not to mention judgmental.
But slowly, I sat back down, willing my stomach to hurry up and digest so that it’d be flat once more. If it went down in five minutes or so, I could still make it to class on-time. I could still sneak in the back and nobody would know. So with a sigh, I put my tray down and began to wait. Waiting, waiting, waiting. This is the story of my life with my handsome yet horrific boyfriend, and my double life with its secrets yet to unfold.
4
Janie
I heaved my bag onto the couch at home because I was worn-out after a day of practice. We have a performance coming up and were headed into the home stretch. Our days were getting longer and the tension was building as we rehearsed DragonLight for its world premiere. I plunked onto the couch, too tired to even get food from the fridge.
“Hey girl,” sang Monica, coming out from her room. “How goes?”
Where to begin? But I just shook my head, closing my eyes while resting my head on the back of the couch. The fatigue was incredible, and my mind was hazy as I tried to catnap.
“It goes,” I mumbled. My hair was still in a bun, and it was so tight that it hurt. With slow fingers, I began unwinding my locks. Ahh, that felt a lot better as my curls sprang to life, freed from their restraints. I swear it’s possible to get a migraine from these punishing hairstyles.
But Monica knew me better than to just let the comment pass.
“Don’s been at you again, hasn’t he?” she asked sympathetically.
“I guess,” I shrugged. I didn’t really want to talk about my charming-but-imperfect boyfriend at the moment, but Monica wouldn’t give up.
“Listen Janie, you’re too good for that douche,” she said. “I mean, he acts like he’s all that, but we both know the truth. You can find someone better,” she encouraged.
“Yeah, but who’s going to be my partner in class?” I sighed, too tired to put up much of a fight. “You know that a million other girls would take my place in a heartbeat.”