Sensual Politics

three

picture: sweet tea in the summer

03

three

It was humid but a breezy afternoon. Sunlight glinted and danced between the wavy leaves of the nearby bushes Betty was mindlessly gazing upon through the window of a local coffee shop. Exams were a couple weeks short and she was spending some much needed time with James before the black hole of studies took her over to another world.

She sipped her iced sweet tea, loving the freeze on her throat, making it feel less constricted. She thought James would be saddened by the news, or maybe even shocked. But to her own disappointment, he seemed less affected by it. None at all, if Betty was strong enough to admit. He casually accepted and sipped on his own tea. She would never mention that it hurt her just a bit. It wasn't a big deal but why did she feel so?

Her step-dad lived with his mother - the grandmother Betty never got to meet - in a saltbox house, about a hundred miles from their town, before he married her mother. The Grandmother-Betty-Never-Got-To-Meet died in the second year of their marriage. She remembered attending a funeral at ten but the grief was lost on her. The saltbox house now sat pretty and alone, deprived of residents, but not visitors. Usually during summers, they packed up and drove all the way to spend the vacation there. Surrounded by dense woods, rivulets, beaches even, Betty loved going there as a young teen. It's been two years since their last trip but that was about to change this summer.

But Betty had never left a boyfriend back in town and was completely new to the long-distance part of the relationship. Sure, they could talk over the phone but she would miss him irrevocably. She thought James would feign disappointment, even just a little, or show hints of sadness but she was wrong.

Or maybe he just took the news better than how she felt. Maybe he was stronger than her.

She didn't want to dwell on it anymore.

"Hey! I almost forgot! Silly me." Betty said in an attempt to distract herself, "Do you wanna get a matching bowtie or a tie with my dress, for the prom?"

"Prom?" James creased his brows.

"Yeah it's this weekend." She had to remind him of everything. That's how he's always been. But Betty loved doing it. "Junior prom? Hello?"

He put his cup down and made a face. "Are you going to that?"

Her disbelief was automatic this time. "What? Ofcourse I am! Aren't you?" His answer was evident from his features. She shook her head back and forth, her curls bouncing on her shoulders. "It's junior prom, James."

"No yeah, I know." He lifted his palms up in a surrendering gesture. Betty thought it was funny had the situation been lighter. "But it's just a dance when you think about it. Everyone loves to hype it up. It's not even senior prom. That's maybe worth all the hype."

She couldn't believe he was being serious. "Just a dance? So you were thinking of not going?"

"Is it bad if I was?" He gave her a sheepish smile, and shrugged. "I'm not a fan of dances."

"You dance with me all the time."

"When we are alone and not under the proximity of every stinking kid at school!" His voice was raised and the conversation edged closer and closer to a fight.

"But it's a one time thing!"

"You have senior prom left." James was adamant on his opinions and made no move to comply with his girlfriend, "We could go then."

"James, are you serious right now?" Betty said, exasperated.

"I didn't know it meant that much to you."

Something about that statement clawed at her. She knew James. In and out. She knew the way his lip twitches when he's nervous, the distant gaze in his eye when he's in a deep thought. She knew he could be a little slow sometimes but his confidence makes up for it. She knew he loved thrilling experiences, hence the dire need for skateboarding. She knew his skateboard was his whole life, his way of escapism.

And yes, maybe she also knew he wasn't a fan of big crowds but he had put that aside countless of times before and showed up with his friends. At the games, at the movies, at the bars. And she expected him to make that exception this time. For her. So when he said he didn't know her love for dances, it hurt more than she let on.

"But what's the big deal if you show up?" Her voice was low now, almost pleading.

"I hate crowds. Specially lame crowds."

There it was. She knew it was coming. She just didn't expect the adjective he used, practically slapping her in the face. Hiding her turmoil for the millionth time that day, she kept on insisting.

"Oh come on. It's the same people you see everyday. In the same place."

"School is different, Betty."

"How exactly?" She challenged.

"You're not meeting all of them at once," James said it as the most obvious thing in the world.

"Please."

"Betty, come on." She could see him starting to get infuriated with the subject. "You can go if you'd like. I'm really not stopping you."

According to her, that was worse. She tried a different approach to convince him. "Without a date? When practically everybody knows we are dating?"

"You care about your public image so much?" He raised an eyebrow. Her mouth gaped open, speechless.

"This isn't about public image!"

"It is, Betty. And no one cares if you show up alone." James realised his words were starting to sound harsh. But there was less he could do. He had never attended these dances and he didn't intent to. "Or you could go with one of the girls. Blake, maybe."

"But either way you don't care about it? Or me?"

"This isn't about you, Betty! It's about me. I hate the school dances. I hate having to be under the spotlight. I hate having to mingle with people for pretentious reasons. I'm not going."

"You won't be under the spotlight," Betty whispered. "No one cares, remember?"

"I do."

"So do I."

They were both aware their last statements were directed at different issues. James cared enough about himself to not go while Betty felt the opposite. She didn't feel like talking about it any further. She had let him stomp on her emotions enough times in one day. She would talk to him when the dust settles but she didn't know when that would be.

Taking a deep breath, she fetched some cash from her sling bag and tucked it under the saucer. "Okay."

"Wait. That's it?"

"What else do you want me to say? You don't wanna go to junior prom because you'll have to talk to people for a few hours. I understand. I'll go alone."

Her chair made a dull screeching sound as she pushed herself up. James had a mixed look of confusion and annoyance on his face. She walked the short distance to the glass doors when she heard him rise up and follow her.

"Betty-"

She threw open the door and stormed out into the humid air and glinting sunlight.

"I'll see you later," she whispered to no one, her eyes burning from the tears that threatened to fall.

~•~