Something Beautiful

Three: Working

"The beauty of a woman must be seen from in her eyes, because that is the doorway to her heart, the place where love resides." -Audrey Hepburn

Carl and I finally made it to my house, with just enough time for my to get change while he stole some food from my fridge. Hey, what else are friends for other than to steal food from? Uh, not much. While in my room, I rummage through my closet for my uniform. It's a plain little number. White dress with red pin-stripes, then my apron on top. Actually I look more like a candy-stripes girl than anything else. My shoes are what kill me though, plain white nursing shoes. Ewe.

Every time I look for it, I sort of hope I don't find it, but I always do. And if I don't, well then Carl does. Traitor always manages to keep me on the right track of honesty and forced labor. He just wants to stop giving me rides I bet. Not that he would ever admit to that. I guess since my mom died, he feels he needs to fill the gap. Not that he can.

Ever since my mom passed, well nothing in my life seems to be the same. When my dad used to call me pretty, my mom was the one who made me believe it. Now that she's gone, well now I guess I've seen past the lies. She used to be the face I saw in the mirror which let me believe I was attractive, since she was, but now that she's out of the way I see my true colors. My ugliness that's always been there. I was so blind, but I've never been more grateful for a lie.

Once my outfit is donned, I'm down the stairs in a matter of seconds, skipping the whole way down. Stopping at the bottom to pull my knee socks up, I hear Carl in the kitchen messing with pots and pans. What on earth is he doing? I don't have time for a three course lunch!

At the sounds of yet another pan crashing into, I'm guessing, the sink, I'm running at top speed toward the noise. He better just be making a sandwich or so help me.

I crash through the swinging door into our spacious kitchen. Out of all the rooms in my house it's got to be the biggest. On the other end of this large room, I see Carl. Of course, he's stuffing his face with some... Lasagna? We didn't have lasagna recently...

"Did you just make that?" I ask, my anger diminishing now being replaced by more surprise than anything.

"Mhmmm," he sort of says to me through a mouth full of the Italian delicacy.

"How did y-...?" I trail off then not knowing what to think this of this whole situation. Was I really gone that long? No, it was like ten minutes tops! There's no way he made lasagna that fast.

With a shrug he answers me after swallowing and wiping off his saucy mouth with the back of his sleeve, "I only made a small tray and it's just noodles and sauce really, with a little cheese. You really gotta stock up that fridge though, what am I gonna eat!?"

"Oh... hey!" I exclaim after what he said sinks in, then continue, "no one asked you to eat up all our food every day, so you get what's there, Mister!"

He smiles then and just shakes his head, obviously pleased he got me riled up enough to shout. So what, that's it? He's just going to get me mad then move on as if nothing happened! No. Nuh-uh, dude.

"You're. A. Jerk." I state, making each individual word its own sentence for emphasis.

His reaction is immediate, as a loud and girly gasp escapes his mouth, then he goes on by saying, "Oh, Elena! You hit me right here," and he points to his heart for added dramatic effect. I roll my eyes and lean against the wall with my arms crossed over my chest, settling in for the following production.

For the next five minutes, at least, my hearing is filled with his annoying high-pitched voice going on and on about how he's always been there for me, how he's been nothing by a good friend and that he doesn't deserve such hate. Which is all true, but my goodness I do not need to hear it! Finally I snap, half from my annoyance and half from the fact I need to get to work.

"Alright, Carl! I'm sorry, okay? Now I gotta go," I finish sounding whiny, hopefully that'll aggravate him at least a little.

Apparently though he's unaffected by the attempt, and just smiles happily finishing up his last bite of lasagna. Then all at once he's wiping off his mouth, standing up and saying to me,

"Alright then, Princess, let's get you to your ball," and he's at my side almost instantly.

His choice of words may be odd to any other person, but I am so used to his strange ways it doesn't even barely phase me. Shrugging off the wall, I join him as we both walk toward my front door. His little, strike that, obnoxiously long lecture has left me with a bit of a headache and scowl set on my lips. Not very attractive, right?

After putting on our coats, we brace ourselves for the cooler afternoon air that's sure to await us outside. Once we're in the car, he cranks the heat and we speed of to the diner. I stare blankly out the window, mentally preparing myself for the evening ahead of me. It's sure to be... eventful. Well if I'm as unlucky as I usually am. If the tables were turned though, I'd hopefully have a more peaceful night, but I doubt it.

As we drive I take in the scenery every now and then. My mind going in and out of awareness of my surroundings. I notice some of the cool kids passing us in a convertible, probably on their way to the diner. Jason is among them, behind the wheel as expected, and he looks at me once as he passes. For some reason hope bubbles up that he'll look again, but again I'm crushed as he doesn't. Stupid hopes.

When we near the diner, I notice a broken down car on the side of the road before we drive off the exit. Soon enough I find the driver, or at least I think it is. It's some guy wearing all black, he's sort of sulking-probably just cold- and he's actually pretty okay on the eyes. Or at least I imagine his face to be. It's just one of those things where like, the rest of his body it good looking, so I can only assume his face is too. Logical, right?

As we pass him though I can't prove my theory correct as his face is ducked into his jacket making it out of sight to me. Oh well, I sigh and slump back into my seat as the diner comes into view. Here comes another night of hard-work, harsh insults possibly, and my sucking life.

Eh, I'm used to it.

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Love, Lily