The Blue Orchid Years

Chapter 22: First Time

January 11th 2627

Having migraine was no fun and not having access to aspirin was worse. I had been dealing with pounding discomfort for who knew how many hours. I had closed the blinds to block the sunlight and the only awareness I had of time passing was the barely noticeable humming of the air conditioner. The faint sound was the only white noise I could tolerate right now.

My classmates had gone on an excursion to a nearby estuary to study the ideal water salinity for hatching seahorses. It was an optional assignment, the kind anyone could do if they needed extra credits to bump up their academic standing. The geniuses like Vannie and Rain hardly had a reason to partake in that, nor had my girlfriend and my sister, but average students like Tony and I were desperate for opportunities like that. This headache couldn't come at a more unfortunate time. As soon as I could stop groaning from the throbbing sensation, I would have to ask my professors if they would be so kind to extend the deadline of that assignment.

I turned to lie on my belly and tried to fall back asleep but then a familiar face came into my view through the slightly ajar door to my room. Moira walked in and sat on the edge of my bed, explaining that she finished her assignment earlier so she could spend the rest of the day with me and asking if she could get me anything to help ease the pain.

"Just having you here makes me slightly better," I replied. "But if you don't mind, could you give me a head massage?"

"Sure," she smiled and moved closer, her fingers brushed against my hair. "Your hair has grown longer, Nardho, I quite like it," she remarked as she continued massaging my temple.

"I'm glad to hear it. I don't like my hair," I scoffed. "It gets tangled so much even if I comb it. I've thought about straightening it or using relaxer but I think I'd look ugly with straight hair."

"You, ugly? Impossible. You're cute! Have you ever seen the way your dimples appear when you smile?" Moira countered, her fingers now moving to the back of my neck.

"I've been feeling ugly ever since I recovered from the surgery," I pointed to that one spot below my diaphragm. "Johan told me to wear the scar like a trophy, but that's absurd. Trophy is for when you're celebrating a victory. In my case, there's nothing to celebrate."

"What do you mean nothing?" Moira's emerald green eyes met mine in defiance. "We've been over this, Nardho. You winning a medical battle of life and death deserves a celebration."

"You wouldn't say that if you see for yourself how unattractive my scars are. You'd be disgusted," I sighed. "It's a good thing that the scar can remained hidden under my clothes."

"I wanna see," she demanded. "I'm not that shallow, honey. I'd never think you're disgusting. Heck, nobody in their right mind would think that!" Moira's voice raised an octave higher.

I closed my eyes in exasperation and started to roll over to my side but Moira tugged on my shirt. "Let me see," she repeated, softer this time. "I promise not to say anything, even if it's ghastly."

I finally nodded and she unbuttoned my shirt, revealing a long line of widened, thickened, and raised scar from the incision my surgeons made. Moira stared at it in silence as my heart drummed louder in my chest. "It's hideous, isn't it?" I sighed. "I'm repulsed by it myself."

"There's nothing repulsive here," she responded as her delicate fingers gently trace the scar I so reviled. "It actually endears you to me even more. You're one tough cookie."

Was she just being nice? How did something this horrendous make me endearing to her?

"You're too kind," I squeezed her hand. "What have I done to be treated this kindly?"