Nancy often asked if there were any boys I was interested in, or any friends I could hang out with. She was worried about my social life. That's about when I realized that here I was, a teenaged girl, my body was developing and maturing even though I hid it under my hoodie, but I didn't seem to be attracted to anyone. At all. Period. Maybe it was the fact that people treated me so badly, that I was a freak. I just couldn't look at them in that way.
My senior year I spent a lot of time dwelling on this, I even snuck some peeks at porn from time to time to see if it would excite me, which it didn't, naked men were kind of gross. So I tried looking at some Playboy magazines, who knows, maybe I was a lesbian or something. But even though I didn't find the women's bodies gross I just wasn't interested in them either. Was I asexual? Did I even need a label?
Now not only was I still confused about my sexuality, but I had a poor body image when I compared myself to the women in the photos in those magazines.
I thought I was broken, so, much to my embarrassment, I experimented with masturbating. Just to find that it felt great, so physically I seemed to work fine. I just resigned myself to probability that I'd never find a person who I was attracted to and would be alone my entire life. Is this how everyone feels? Is attraction just a story everyone tells themselves so they feel normal and not out of place?
I poured all my frustrations and my emotions into my art. My art teacher in my senior year, Miss Woods, always gave me special projects and submitted them to contests around the nation. I was winning art awards left and right, as if I weren’t already enough of a freak.
I turned eighteen that year and was removed from my foster parent's house because I was supposedly an adult now and aged out of the program, just adding to my frustrations in life. I stayed at a youth hostel for the remainder of my senior year.
The University of Washington awarded me a full ride scholarship, including room and board, for my art and academic record. I was ecstatic, college was going to be a life changer for me, no more bullies, no more mocking. I mean, everyone there was more mature right?
That illusion was effectively destroyed my first week at UW, in one of the cafeterias I decided to study in while I ate lunch. I was hunched down in my hoodie, my utensils organized neatly and in the proper order on my napkin beside my chef salad as I skimmed my calculus book, absorbing the formulas.
I had just put my book down, aligned evenly with the table edge, so that I could get a bite of my salad when a familiar screechy voice rang out behind me. “Well if it isn't little miss spaz!” I flinched as stress and anxiety hit me like a bulldozer. It felt almost like a physical blow. I turned to see Missy Hannigan, a cheerleader from my old high school, grinning like a hungry alligator. She was flanked by what I could only assume were her new little minions.
I could feel an “episode” coming on. I stood and tried to leave but they blocked the way. My eyes were darting around looking for escape, for a restroom. My shoulder started to twitch up to brush my cheek as I looked for a way around the girls. Missy just continued her verbal assault. “They'll let any freak go to this university it seems. Why don't you just go to a community college and leave us normal people alone spaz?”
I blurted “Physical derivative!” I was moving side to side trying to get around the girls as my shoulder twitched, brushing my cheek again. “Please let me go.” I begged. The girls all laughed and I repeated “The physical derivative.”
Missy was suddenly pushed aside and a tall girl with a gorgeous mane of flowing brown hair stepped up to me, ignoring the shocked girls she had pushed through to my twitching self. She locked her intense, amber eyes that had an almost orange tint, on my green ones, as she grabbed my arm firmly. “There you are!” her eyes flickered to my book and back “You are supposed to be tutoring me on my calculus.”
She turned her gaze back to the other girls, and I swear there was flame in her eyes as she said in a cold and dangerous tone “Excuse us.” she hissed as she pushed back through them, being sure to shoulder butt Missy on the way through.
Her hand moved from my arm down to my hand as she dragged me between tables, threading us smoothly to the restroom. “The derivative.” I looked at the ground, trying to shrink away into nothingness as she opened the door and pushed me into the room. She looked under the stalls to make sure the room was empty and pushed me down onto a bench by the door.
The girl then turned around casually, and put her back to the door effectively blocking it. Then she raised one foot against it to lean comfortably. I watched as she dug a pack of cigarettes out of her purse and lit one up. She looked up and took a deep drag, holding it in for a few seconds then exhaling. She finally looked down at me rocking on the bench, shrugging my shoulder to my cheek “Derivative.”
I didn't know what to say to her, and I didn't want to make eye contact I was so embarrassed by this whole incident. It wasn't supposed to happen like this in college, this isn't how it was supposed to be.
When the episode finally faded, I glanced up from the safety of my hood to see her watching me. It felt like she was studying me. Someone tried to push the door she was blocking open, and the girl just turned her head slightly toward it and yelled “Occupied!” I took the time to look her over.
She was stunning. I felt my stomach fluttering a bit as I took in her very feminine but slightly butch appearance. She was slim and tall, about 5'10” if I were to guess. Much taller than my 5'1”. She had smallish breasts that still managed to fill out her faded black t-shirt in quite a pleasing manner. Her jeans hugged her legs, showing off the curves of her hips and calves. And for some bizarre reason the combat boots she wore were the perfect compliment to the outfit.
I looked up to her face. It held a contrast between an adorable girl next door look and something sexy and dangerous. She wore hardly any makeup, but her lips were full and looked awfully inviting. I was biting my lower lip. Then realized the thoughts I was having when I met her catlike eyes again. She was smirking. Shit!
I was immediately embarrassed about my thoughts and that she had caught me checking her out. I wasn't checking her out was I? I don't ever check people out. I was just curious about the girl that saved me from the bitch queen, right? I looked down at the floor and spoke, trying to divert the attention away from me “Y-you shouldn't smoke. You're not a-allowed to smoke in public spaces. Th-th-those things will kill you.”
She snorted at me like I had just said the most absurd thing in the world, shaking her head she replied, “If only.” She put the cigarette out on the sole of her heel, dropping the butt on the tile floor, then held her hand out to me to take “You done? Ready to go back out?” I snapped at her a little too sharply, “I d-don't need your p-pity!” My mouth was tight with anger that shouldn't have been directed toward her.
She looked more amused than taken aback by my aggression “Not giving you any, just being friendly.” She kept her hand extended to me. I slumped my shoulders in defeat and muttered hoarsely “I'm sorry. Missy and the others are right, I'm a freak, I'd be better off dead.”
The next thing I knew, I was seeing white stars as a sharp pain and heat bloomed on my cheek where she had firmly slapped me, a tear was stinging the corner of my eye.
I looked up at her, slack-jawed and in shock, to see her gritting her teeth in anger. Her eyes were burning into me as she spoke through her clenched jaw, more calmly than her demeanor indicated. “Don't you EVER say that! Every day is a gift! It's how you fill that gift that defines you. Don't let senseless bitches like that Missy define you. Define yourself!”
I was stunned, unmoving. Her words echoing around in my head. Then she suddenly softened, her face changed to one of compassion as she raised her hand and placed it on my cheek, gently stroking with her thumb where she had struck. I caught myself wanting to lean into the warmth of her touch. “Sorry.” I whispered as I suddenly stood.
She looked at me, then grabbed my hand and started dragging me back into the cafeteria. I liked the feel of
her hand in mine, it gave me strength for some unknown reason. As we made our way back to my table I saw her survey the room to make sure Missy was gone. Then she glanced back at me with a stunning smile. “I'm Vee. Vee Taylor by the way.” I was much calmer now as I responded “Ummm... hi. I'm Mia. Mia Jacobs.”
We sat back at my table, I saw my plastic utensils were a little crooked and I went about straightening them up on the napkin and making sure it all aligned with the edge of the table as I spoke. I noticed she was watching me do this intently. I tried to make smalltalk to divert her attention, I didn't want her to leave. “Vee? Is that short for something? Like Velma, Victoria, Valerie or some such?” She nodded with a smirk and a mischievous smile lit her face while her eyes twinkled, “Yup, it stands for my name. Hey you're not stuttering.”
I caught her misdirection so I answered with a smirk from inside my hood, “Yeah I only stutter when I'm nervous or stressed. Aaaaand, you didn't answer me, what is it short for?” She cocked her head, like she was contemplating something, then said, “I thought it was cute, I got to hear more of your wonderful voice that way.” She thinks my voice is wonderful? I started to smile then caught on again “H-hey! Stop the misdirection woman, now spill!”
She laughed. It was pretty awesome, it was a real laugh that reached her sparkling eyes. I caught myself biting my lower lip again as she caved, rolling her eyes. “Fine, I'll tell you, but virtually nobody knows. My dad was a Norse mythology professor, so he named me Valhalla, after the hall of the gods. It's been the bane of my existence.”
Wow. A unique name for such a unique girl. There was something different about her, and I found myself wanting to know more. I tried out her name, “Valhalla... Valhalla. Hmmm... I think I like that. It fits you. You...” I stopped and snapped my eyes to hers, tilting my head a bit.
She raised her eyebrows and asked, “What?”. I just smiled and shook my head and spoke a little wistfully, “Ummm... nothing. I just realized that this is already the longest conversation I have ever had with someone who isn't a teacher or a foster parent in like five years.”
She smiled, but her eyes didn't share the smile, they looked a little... sad? Pained? She reached over with a hand and grabbed the top of my hood and stopped. “May I?” I just nodded in trepidation and she pushed the hood off. My shelter, my personal hiding spot falling to my shoulders with it. Then she pushed my hair back over the hood and sat back to take me in.
Her eyes widened a bit. “Wow.” she whispered almost inaudibly, I don't think she meant to speak out loud. Then she smiled a genuine smile and locked eyes with me again. “You really are stunning Mia, you shouldn't hide yourself away under that hood.” Is she flirting with me?
I could feel the heat of a blush on my cheeks and I found myself answering, “Ummm... I'll stop when you stop smoking.” I grinned in triumph. Ha! Take that! I was about to raise my hood back up when she placed a warm, soft hand on mine to stop me. “Deal!” she said with a triumphant grin of her own. She reached into her purse and pulled out her cigarettes and tossed them on the table.
She caught me glancing back and forth between her, the pack, and the table. I quickly reached out and turned the pack with an outstretched finger so the label was parallel to the edge of the table, nudging it till it was perfect, before retreating my hand back into my sleeve.
She took her lighter out of her purse and set it on the table next to the pack, looking at me sideways while making sure it was neatly lined up beside it. She tilted her head slightly, narrowing her eyes almost imperceptibly, observing me as she slowly pulled her hand back. When I did nothing she smiled and sat back crossing her arms in satisfaction.
“So Mia, you know what this means right? We are going to have to hang out a lot together to make sure we hold up our ends of the bargain. You'll see me so much you'll get sick of me.” She winked and I said breathlessly, “Couldn't get sick of you.” I slapped my hands over my mouth when I realized I said that out loud. I was wondering what the hell was wrong with me. I didn't understand, since I had never felt anything like it before. Am I attracted to her?
She gave me a super-cute grin at that and put a hand out on the table, palm open, wiggling her fingers expectantly. “Cell me wench!” she said with mirth. I looked at her eyes, then her hand, and I dug in my purse and handed her my cellphone timidly. She quickly entered her phone number, labeling herself 'She Who Shall Not Be Named' in the contact list. She handed it back and grabbed her cell out of her purse and passed it to me.
I looked at her with a smile. Technically she would be the first friend I have had since junior high. I entered my phone number and labeled myself 'Nicotine Patch' before absently handing it back to her. She glanced at it and snorted, then quickly overwrote it with 'THE Mia', showing me the screen, causing my cheeks to heat again.
She stood up and placed a hand on top of mine, still hiding in its sleeve. I could still feel the heat of her skin through the material, “I gotta jet to class Mia. Russian Literature. Call me later, maybe we can hookup and do something one of these nights. I might text if I get bored.” She started walking off, looking back at me. I smiled at her bashfully. “O-okay. See ya Valla.” I swear I saw her stutter step and smile a bit wider when I called her Valla, or did I imagine it?
I was about to stand and dump my tray with my uneaten meal in the trash, and head off to class myself, when my cell vibrated in my purse. I grabbed it and looked at the text message blazing away on it from “She Who Shall Not Be Named” [ bored already :) ] I quickly responded [ me 2 – tlk 2 u l8r ]
I had a little skip in my step as I emptied my tray then gathered my things. I headed out to my art class with a smile on my face. It wasn't until later that day I realized my hood was still down. It didn't seem to bother me so much.
Chapter 2 – I'm so Confused
Art was more fun than in high school. We seemed to have more freedom to choose our own project and I really got into it. I decided to try taking little quarter inch squares of colored paper and arranging them to make a picture on my canvas. I could clearly see in my head which colors needed to go where to assemble the picture I wanted to portray, and I calculated the quickest way to accomplish it by the end of class.
A minute before class ended I was finished. The instructor had been walking around checking everyone's progress. She approached me and looked at the seemingly random placement of the tightly packed squares on my canvas and asked if it was my take on impressionism. I realized why she asked and I just shook my head, then holding up my hand to indicate she should stay where she was, I walked across the room from her and held up my canvas.
The professor, Mrs. Sax, seemed genuinely shocked that she could clearly see what, to her, looked like a photograph of a tree swing in a meadow. I vividly remember playing there as a little girl, it was a happy time for me. Mrs. Sax spoke, “Ummm... Miss Jacobs, tomorrow, I'd like to discuss this style with you a little bit.” I was a little confused but said, “O-okay Professor.” as I made my way out the door to my next class. Was it that bad?
After art class, the day seemed to crawl by slowly, but it was punctuated with my smiles as I received many random text messages from Valla throughout the day. I renamed her contact name to Valla on my phone, and we exchanged sarcastic barbs back and forth. Sarcasm is one of my superpowers.
I was in my final class of the day, Psychology, when I got a text from Valla that I didn't know how to interpret or answer. [ out of class 4 day. hitting frat party 2nite at 8. come with? ] I stared at the message for quite some time trying to read into it. I had never been to a party my entire life, not counting my birthday parties as a little kid. I don't really like being around people, they are only harsh around me. But I really wanted to be close to Valla.
“Come with?” Was that as a friend, or does it mean as a date? I can be her friend. I think I might be attracted to her. Was she flirting before? Is she gay? Am I gay? Does it matter? How do you act around a friend? I'm so confused. I straightened my back in re
solve at the solution less likely to scare Valla off. Friends it is.
Finally I answered back [ parties not my scene. can't dance. got nothing to wear n e way ]. Almost immediately she responded [ tough wench. i b tempted to smoke so u gotta b there. u can use sum o my clothes. meet my place 2nite at 7. we need 2 look hot :) ] I couldn't stop myself from smiling as I typed my response [ u r already hot. i'll hide behind u. if it sux I will bail tho :P ]
The instant response was [ *blush* fine. deal ;) ]. Then we sent each other our dorm and room numbers. Suddenly I was both terrified and excited for class to get over with. I watched the second hand on the clock move at a painfully slow pace as I sharpened all of my pencils to the exact same length and listened to the endless droning lecture on the id, ego and superego.
I grabbed a chicken salad sandwich on the way to my dorm and washed it down with a bottle of water. Then I entered my room, where I was the only occupant. Probably the only good thing that came from my Tourettes, I had an episode two days ago when I was moving in. My roommate, Gracie, freaked out and got the administration to give her a room change. Nobody else wanted to room with me, so yay, more space for the spaz!
As I studied, I started to get more and more nervous about the party. By the time seven o clock rolled around I was sitting on the floor in the corner of my room with my hood pulled up over me. I was scared I'd induce an episode on my own. A few minutes later my cell phone rang. I grabbed it and saw it was Valla, I hovered over decline for a couple seconds but then couldn't resist talking to her and pressed accept. “H-h-hello?”
A cheerful Valla responded, “Hey chickadee, you're late! Get yer lazy ass over here, we got a party to get ready for!” I smiled a little and tried to push the panic attack I seemed to be having away a little bit as I replied, “I ch-change-ed my mind. I can't g-go with you. I've never b-b-been to a party. People will be h-harsh to me.”
Her voice was cautious and tinged with concern, “You're stuttering again. I'm not making you nervous am I?” I gave a quick laugh “N-no, I actually feel braver around you. I just can't go to a party. Can I call you tomorrow?” I could hear the disappointment in her voice. “Okay, see ya Mia.” I smiled a bit at the rhyme before I sighed, “Bye Valla.” Then hung up.
Music of the Soul 1, 2, & 3 Starter Bundle Page 22
