He took my face between his hands and kissed my lips, brushing his smooth face against my pimples. His driver honked the horn, and he ran to his bus. Stunned, I turned and saw gawking seventh graders practically hanging out of every window on my side of the bus, staring at me. #lookinmybriefs

"I don’t hate you. I know you were only joking with me, trying to make me feel better. Please…”
The words stopped. I didn’t know how to continue. Our buses pulled to the curb.
I looked up. Rickie had a half smile. “I wasn’t joking,” said one of the most popular high school boys. #lookinmybriefs

I agonized over beginning lines. Then I saw the buses approaching, his following mine. I dropped my eyes to the ground, and when my words came, they were rushed.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I was mean to you. I don’t hate you. I know you were only joking with me." #lookinmybriefs #birthdays #contemporary

Monday was the first day of school. His bus and mine stopped at the same stop. We often conversed while waiting for the bus, so I expected to see him. Before I left the house I stared into my dresser mirror at my pocked face.
“Get over yourself,” I said quietly.
#lookinmybriefs #birthdays

And I had told him I hated him. When Mom finished her lecture, I ran back to my room for another crying spell.
The next day was Saturday, but I didn’t see Rickie all weekend, though I gave furtive glances toward his backyard while hiding behind my window curtains. #lookinmybriefs #birthdays

He had never talked down to me, even though he had reached the advanced age of sixteen. He had given me the eye a time or two but never in a manner that made me uncomfortable. He couldn’t be a best friend, since he was a boy, but he was a true friend, perhaps the only one I had. #lookinmybriefs

That was the reason I was regretting my outburst. I had told Rickie I hated him, but he was the last person I would ever hate. I could talk to him about everything. He had never talked down to me, even though he had reached the advanced age of sixteen. #lookinmybriefs #birthdays #contemporary

She began the way she usually did, by reminding me that she and dad had lived the first part of their married life without a dishwasher. From there she began to point out the kinds of material things I had that other kids just dreamed about. She reminded me of our extended family. #lookinmybriefs

“Eat.”
I consumed my sloppy joe and carried my plate to the sink. Mom handed me a dishtowel.
“Dry.”
This meant she was going to do the dishes by hand, instead of using the dishwasher, and I was going to dry them while listening to a lecture. #lookinmybriefs #birthdays #contemporary #shortstory

“I hate you,” I screamed, and then I ran to my bedroom, threw myself on my bed, and gave in to hard raucous sobs of self-pity.
I cried for a long time, but eventually hunger drove me back to the kitchen. Mom was sitting at the table, but when she saw me she stood.
#lookinmybriefs #birthdays

“I’m going to marry you,” Rickie said.
There was a moment of silence. My parents were taken aback by his statement. I was astonished and angered at his cruelty. I couldn’t believe one of my oldest friends would tease me at a time like this, even if he was a boy.
#lookinmybriefs #birthdays

“Lucy.” That was Dad, using his warning tone.
“Lucille.” That was Mom. “I know you’re upset, but don’t take it out on us. Besides, we have company.”
“So what? I hate this food, and I hate my face, and I hate my life.”
#lookinmybriefs

He was on the high school A-list, having made quarterback for the junior varsity. The varsity quarterback and his backup were graduating at the end of the next term. Rickie was expected to move up.
“It sucks,” I replied, moving some of the sauce with my fork.
#lookinmybriefs #birthdays #contemporary

Normally I loved sloppy joes, but the one waiting on my plate looked unpalatable, and the scent of chili pepper annoyed me.
“I hate this food.”
My dad scowled, and my mom sighed.
“It’s not bad,” Rickie said, using both hands to take a ginormous bite.
#lookinmybriefs #birthdays #contemporary

Dinner was a miserable affair, moderated only by the presence of Rickie Baines. His mother had required his presence at her fast-food franchise earlier, so he had missed my party. It was another reason for my dissatisfaction with the world. Normally I loved sloppy joes. #lookinmybriefs #contemporary

It was no surprise that only two girls bothered to show up at my party, and they made excuses to leave after one hour, no doubt heading to Cybil's party. I was invited, but I knew I would be the subject of pity and gossip, so I declined her gracious invitation. #lookinmybriefs #birthdays #shortstory

And to top it off, Cybil Hart had moved to our town, was attending the same middle school as me, was placed in the same homeroom class, and had the audacity to be born on the same day I was born. She was kind, pretty, talented, and clever. #lookinmybriefs #birthdays #shortstory #contemporary

My former popularity had plummeted faster than an out-of-date social media site. I knew in my heart that part of my unpopularity was the grumpy manner in which I treated the people around me, but I blamed everyone else.
And to top it off, Cybil Hart had moved to our town. #lookinmybriefs #shortstory

Twelfth Birthday

It was my twelfth birthday, the worst day of my life. I had recently experienced puberty with aches and pains, body bulging in places I could not ignore, and zits that looked like evil aliens trying to force their way out of my face. #lookinmybriefs #birthdays #contemporary

She entered her room and shut the door. For a long moment he stared at the door. Then he seemed to collect himself. He looked toward the picture, glanced at her door, and then he looked at me. And then his expression changed. He stared at me as if seeing me for the first time. #lookinmybriefs