Becoming A Butterfly (The Butterfly Chronicles)

by Castile, Mia

  Farrah Leevar: What do you guys do?

  Henry Emmitt: The usual. There’s a spot where we always skate; sometimes we’ll go to the skate park, but it gets crowded. Tell me about you.

  Farrah Leevar: There’s not much to tell. I have a little sister. She’s nothing like me; she’s just like my mom. LOL I’m a different creature all together.

  Henry Emmitt: What do you mean?

  Farrah Leevar: Henry, we all have masks we hide behind. And at some point we all want to be someone else. I guess I’m just able to be that person more.

  Henry Emmitt: Yeah, I think I understand what you mean. It’s like sometimes Byron and his sister Bea say things that make me embarrassed to even be around them. They can be pretty rude sometimes. I don’t even know why they’re my friends sometimes.

  Farrah Leevar: Why are they?

  Henry Emmitt: Idk. We’ve just known each other forever. And he’s a good guy when he’s not around other people—plus he gets me like no one else can sometimes.

  Farrah Leevar: You say sometimes a lot.

  Henry Emmitt: Yeah, so what about you—friends?

  Farrah Leevar: I have two best friends. They are the best too, supportive and strong-willed. We always have fun together. I think it’s important to surround yourself with people you most want to be like, and you look up to. You know the saying “You are what you eat.” I think it applies to friends too.

  Henry Emmitt: Sometimes, that’s easier said than done. I sensed a sadness in that statement. I didn’t want to make him unhappy.

  Farrah Leevar: Maybe then you should be the broccoli. ;)

  Chapter 6

  Over the next few days, a new normal began. After school, after dinner, when I should have been in my room gaming, I chatted with Henry instead. He let me inside his head; he gave me honesty I never knew existed with him. We talked about school society, stupid etiquette, and the expectations his parents were already putting on him to be like his older brother Martin, the model son. I told him about my fears of never being noticed for me. We told each other embarrassing moments, like the time at summer camp when I accidentally put salt in my oatmeal instead of sugar and made a sour pucker face when the counselor took my picture, and the time at his family reunion when he busted his uncle smoking weed behind his grandpa’s barn, only later to realize he’d caught a contact buzz after he danced crazily in front of his entire family, extended and all. We flirted, we joked, and we were totally goofy. I began to fall even more head over heels for him, which made seeing him in school even harder. My dreamy stares were being noticed as Bea and Byron’s comments to me became more assaulting. I wondered if Henry would ever put the two together—that I was Farah. That both excited and terrified me. Rejection was my tyrant, ensuring that I played by the laws of its country, so on Thursday night, I sat there tapping my fingers on my desk, waiting for his profile picture to glow.

  Henry Emmitt: Hey, Rah-rah.

  Yes, he had already given me a nickname as I had him.

  Farrah Leevar: Hey, Fakie.

  It was his favorite skating move, he explained it to me, but I didn’t quite understand what it was. He promised to show it to me one day. Yes, I understood the irony of it all.

  Farrah Leevar: How was school?

  Henry Emmitt: The usush, u?

  Farrah Leevar: Same.

  Henry Emmitt: Weekend plans?

  Farrah Leevar: Hanging out, u?

  Henry Emmitt: Well u know the new Jason Staten movie comes out Friday, I can’t wait.

  Farrah Leevar: Horray for action movies. *not said in a sarcastic way at all ;)*

  Henry Emmitt: Say what you will but he’s a fighting genius.

  We talked for a while more about small stuff like we usually started out. Then he wrote:

  Henry Emmitt: So what do you look for in a guy?

  This made me nervous, and out of habit I looked over to my closed blinds for some sense of support; knowing he was on the other side was the only assurance I got.

  Farrah Leevar: He has to be funny, nice, and street smart.

  Henry Emmitt: OK.

  Farrah Leevar: I tend to lean towards brunettes; I love messy hair that I can run my fingers through. I cringed as I hit the enter key.

  Henry Emmitt: Hmmm, light brown count?

  Farrah Leevar: Any brown really. Eyes are very important. I have to be able to look a guy in the eyes and go weak, OR know when he’s being honest with me.

  Wow, I surprised myself, sounding like I’d actually had interaction with a boy who liked me.

  Henry Emmitt: I agree. Eyes are very important and must be swoon-worthy.

  Farrah Leevar: Shut-up! You asked! What about you? What do you look for in a girl?

  Henry Emmitt: Honest, sweet, kind, and HOT. That last one is the most important.

  Farrah Leevar: Spoken like a true dude.

  Henry Emmitt: No, I have to be attracted to her, but someone’s personality can make them just as attractive or unattractive as their looks.

  Farrah Leevar: Well said!

  Henry Emmitt: So are you seeing anyone right now?

  Farrah Leevar: Not really.

  Evasive was good, right?

  Henry Emmitt: Cool.

  There was a long pause where neither of us typed anything, and then he wrote:

  Henry Emmitt: Do you want to come up to Brownsburg and go to that movie with me tomorrow?

  Farrah Leevar: Sure!

  I typed it and sent it before I even thought! I dropped my head and banged it against my desk. What had I just done? Then I added:

  Farrah Leevar: I’ll have to see if I can catch a ride up; do you want to meet at the theater?

  Henry Emmitt: Yeah, that’s cool.

  Farrah Leevar: Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow.

  Henry Emmitt: K, night.

  I closed my laptop and paced for a few minutes. Then I re-opened it and Video Chatted with Tasha and Jade to discuss my impending doom.

  At school, Henry whistled as he passed me in the halls, wearing his “Mom likes me best” tee and smiled hello’s to everyone he passed. In English, he and Byron talked through the whole class.

  “Did you tell her what time the movie starts?” Byron asked, sitting sideways and not paying attention to Mr. Ziggler reading his poem.

  “I didn’t; I’ll text her now.” He took out his phone and sent a message. Moments later my phone buzzed softly -in my hoodie pocket. My face turned red, but no one noticed. He stared at his phone. My heart pounded as I realized he was waiting for a response. I took a deep breath. He’d just have to wait. I wasn’t brave enough to text him while I was sitting next to him.

  “Do not wear your ‘I am the man from Nantucket’ shirt,” Byron continued, as Henry stared at his phone. “You’ll look like a douche.”

  “It’s my lucky shirt,” Henry pleaded.

  “It won’t be if you wear it.” Byron rolled his eyes, then glared at me. I hadn’t realized I was so focused on their conversation and watching their every move. Henry glanced at me, but quickly returned to his phone. I looked down at my open book.

  “Fine! What should I wear?” He gave up on his phone and leaned back in his seat.

  “What am I, Project Runway? I don’t know,” Byron spouted, then softened his tone and added, “OK, OK, we’ll hit up Metropolis Mall in Plainfield and get you some new threads, and…” He paused, eye-balling Henry’s head.

  Henry ran his fingers through his hair as if that would make it look less messy. “A haircut,” Henry groaned.

  Byron continued, “You really like Farrah, and this is the first time you’re meeting her. Only the best will do.” I turned and stared out the window. He liked me, enough to get a haircut. That was saying something; he hadn’t even got a haircut for the spring formal.

  After school, Jade and Tasha were in Farah mode. We picked out a rocking outfit, but one that was totally casual, and I tied a scarf around my wrist, typical Farrah. Tasha made my make-up look very subtle. I was quite
pleased until she brought out the bright red lipstick.

  “Um, no,” I said, shaking my head.

  “Um, yes. Why do you think I did your makeup this way? You have one feature that stands out to ensure that you stand out—sometimes the eyes, sometimes the lips. Tonight, the lips.” Jade laughed as she brushed my hair up into a pony tail. I had snuck out my mom’s wig, but I couldn’t put it on until I was out of the house. It sat in my oversized purse on the bed.

  “What if he doesn’t like me?” I squirmed.

  “What if he thinks you’re amazing?” Jade countered.

  “What if he figures it out and hates me?”

  “What if he realizes you’re amazing!” Tasha insisted, as she and Jade stood me up and shoved me out the bathroom door. “We’ll be here when you get back.” I gave them one last look, hoping to be rescued, but they only shooed me on. I grabbed my purse and was out the door. There was no going back.

  Chapter 7

  I sat in my dad’s Cadillac sedan and watched Henry pace in front of the entrance. I looked at my red wig, red lips and terrified brown contact-ed eyes in the rearview mirror. I twisted my scarf around in my finger. Henry looked at the digital clock on the movie board and surveyed the parking lot again. I couldn’t go through with it. With a sigh, I resigned myself to my fate. I dug into my dad’s glove compartment, found a napkin, and I wiped my lips clean. Then I removed the contacts, replaced them with my new black-rimmed glasses, and took off the wig. I laid it on the passenger seat so it wouldn’t get too messed up. Then I took off the shrug and scarf I wore and Lacey’ed up my outfit, putting my hoodie back on. I put on clear lip gloss and got out of the car. I walked across the parking lot toward Henry. About halfway, someone fell into step beside me. Chase.

  “Hey, Lacey,” he said, as if he were bored to death.

  “Hi, Chase,” I said, digging my hands into my hoodie pockets.

  “Meeting your friends for a movie?” We stepped up onto the sidewalk together.

  “Kind of.” He nodded and kept pace with me. We walked to Henry, and he smiled recognition.

  “Hey,” he exclaimed as he and Chase did a fist bump. “What are you guys doing here?”

  “Catching the latest Staten movie; it’s going to kick ass!” Chase answered, more animatedly than I’d ever seen him.

  “Me too. I’m just waiting for my date.” Henry looked at the clock again.

  “About that,” I interjected quietly. They both turned their attention to me as if only just noticing that I was still there. I continued, “Farrah wanted me to tell you she was sorry, but she couldn’t catch a ride up.” I avoided all eye contact.

  “Oh. Why didn’t she just text me?” Henry asked. That was a good question.

  “I’m not sure. Maybe she was embarrassed; she just asked me to come over here and tell you,” I answered—too fast.

  “Well, since we’re all here, let’s just go in and enjoy the movie,” Chase said, opening the door.

  “I wasn’t going to stay,” I said, looking for my escape to the parking lot. I had only planned to tell Henry and go back home. There was a tub of Ben and Jerry’s late night snack with my name on it. “But you guys enjoy yourselves; do some male bonding or whatever you guys do during action flicks.” I took a step backwards.

  “No, it’s OK. I think company is just what ole’ Henry needs since his girl stood him up,” Chase said, patting him on the shoulder. Henry blushed and looked down at his shuffling feet. Then he looked up at me through his long bangs, which he brushed to the side, only to instantly fall back in his face.

  “Sure.” How could I resist those eyes? He smiled a sad smile, and we followed Chase inside. He walked up to the ticket window and said, “Three tickets for Stolen Artifact, eight p.m. showing please.” Henry and I both objected immediately, but he held up his hand, his eyes on me, and said, “I think I’ll get my money’s worth.” We went to the concession stand. I bought a coke and small popcorn, which were huge, and I had a hard time balancing. Chase grabbed my popcorn and led us to the theater. It was a large theater with comfy seats. We followed him up the stairs, and he paused in the middle.

  “This looks about right.” He nodded and walked down the aisle. Henry held his hand out to me, and I reluctantly followed Chase. When we sat down, I realized I was smack dab in the middle.

  I turned to Henry and asked, “Do you want to trade me spots?” He looked at me, confused, then simply shook his head. I eyed Chase, contemplating asking him, but there was no way I wasn’t going to sit by Henry, guilty conscious or not. Chase gave me a tight smile, winked at me, and settled in with my popcorn. I slouched back, put my Con’d feet up on the seat in front of me and leaned away from him toward Henry. The lights lowered as the trailers began. Chase passed me my popcorn, and I began nibbling on it. We watched a trailer for a horror movie, and I jumped at the last minute when a buzz saw jetted across the screen. Both Chase and Henry chuckled under their hands, and I shrunk deeper into my seat. Chase leaned over, dug out a handful of popcorn, and said, “It’s supposed to scare you. That thumping in your chest means you’re living.” I just stared at him. He flicked up his eyebrows in amusement, smiled, and leaned back as another action movie trailer began. This was going to be a long night.

  I found my mind wandering as the plot was playing out. It was a typical bad guy kills secret agent’s family and frames the secret agent, who seeks revenge. This was along with an ancient artifact, the key to clearing his name. It was a little overacted, but I didn’t mind seeing Jason Staten without a shirt, but I digress. My mind wandered, and I imagined what would have happened if I hadn’t been such a chicken. Chase would probably be sitting where he is now, but Henry and I would be sitting closer to the top. I turned around and looked longingly at the corner seats in the last row against the wall. I might have even been brave enough to hold his hand, but here I was sitting between the two of them—Henry with his arms crossed leaning away from me, and Chase putting his hands in my lap every few minutes. Did this kid know nothing about personal space? I tried to pass him the popcorn; he was clearly enjoying it more than I was, but he held up his hand like he was through. As soon as I put it beside me on my seat, his hand was grabbing from the bottomless bag. After each fight scene, they would reach across me and high five each other, like they had something to do with it. They weren’t the only ones doing that either. Apparently this movie’s only demographic was boys between the ages of thirteen to seventeen. There were maybe three girls in the entire theater counting me, and one of them had managed to distract her boyfriend successfully. The other girl looked as bored as I was. The movie didn’t end soon enough.

  The three of us walked casually toward the parking lot. We stopped just a few cars away from my dad’s. With his hands in his pockets, Chase nodded toward another aisle, and said, “I’m over here; I’ll see you guys at school on Monday.” We smiled and waved. Henry ruffled the back of his hair and looked at the ground for a minute.

  “Can I hitch a ride home? Byron dropped me off earlier. I could call him, but I figured that since we were neighbors and all…” I just stared at him a moment. I hadn’t even thought that he might need a ride.

  “Yeah, just wait here a minute; I have to clean out the passenger seat.” He nodded, and I ran to the passenger side of the car. I dropped the wig in my purse and put my shrug on top of it. Luckily, there was an old McDonald’s bag that I grabbed and carried around the car. I dropped it and my purse in the back seat. We drove most of the way in silence.

  “Sorry about Farrah… again,” I said, watching my mirrors too closely.

  “It’s OK. It happens.” He leaned against the door, and stared straight ahead.

  “She likes you, though,” I said softly. It was easier to admit it for someone else than for me.

  “I like her, too.” He slowly grinned.

  “Why? You don’t know her.” His grin faded, and our eyes held each other for a long moment.

  “I’m getting to know her. S
he’s funny and smart and says what she thinks and what she feels. You could learn something from her,” he said tensely.