Between Black and Sunshine (3 page)

I have one more week before I go to him. I have one more week to complete my transformation.  I have my wardrobe, my makeup bag, my sketch pad and charcoal pencils. I have my hair appointment scheduled for the day before I leave. I will look different, but I don’t know if that’s enough. I still feel the same, at least at night in my bedroom, on the phone with Luca. I can’t seem to be the new me when I’m talking to Luca. I have to change that.

My phone rings, as if on cue, and I look down to see Luca’s beautiful face flashing on it. My stomach tightens like it always does when he calls. I decide to put my fake smile on before answering it. “Hello,” I say airily… happily.

“Jude?”

I roll my eyes at myself. “Hey, Luca. What’s up?” I shake my head at my stupid fake voice.

“What’s up?”

“Yeah… how’s it going?”

There is a long pause full of confusion, on both ends I assume. “It’s going… fine,” he eventually says. “Are you okay?”

“Yep, I’m great. Couldn’t be better.”

“All right,” he says through a huffy laugh. “Listen, I’ve been thinking about this whole letting Callie drive you out here and I don’t want you doing that. I want to come get you.”

Luca’s been hung up on this topic. Normally, if I were still myself, I would want that too. But I can’t have his first impression of the new me be followed by a twenty-seven hour car ride. I would crack and he would see how little I have actually changed. I have a plan and it involves bits and pieces, not the whole damn pie at once. “I want to drive with Callie. It will be our last chance to be together. I’ll be fine.”

“Jude, she’s a terrible driver. It’s too many hours on the road, you guys are going to get tired and distracted; something could happen. Let me come get you. I’ll leave tomorrow.”

Tomorrow?
God no
. I’m not ready for him.
Hell no
. “No, Luca. We’ll be fine. We’ll stop for the night and rest. Plus, she needs an extra driver. I don’t want her driving all the way to California by herself.”

He lets out a long, low exhale followed by silence. “Fine,” he eventually says. “What about your dorm room and your roommate, did you call today and confirm everything?”

“Yes, Luca. I’m still in the new dorm, the one with the best security system. My roommate is still Stephanie Moore. She texted me today with a picture of her bedding. It’s all good.” I roll my eyes again, this time at the pictures that I replied to,
Super cute! Will coordinate!
Stephanie thinks I’m the girl I’m planning to be when I show up on campus. I had to take down my Facebook page just for her.

Which didn’t bother me, but it bothered Luca. I got a call less than an hour later…
What happened? Was someone harassing you? Did someone post something on your wall? Is some creeper stalking you?
No, no, no. I told him I couldn’t handle the whole idea of the thing; my life in a public place (thanks to Callie) for anyone to see. To which he replied,
Jude, you have to stop being so antisocial. What are you gonna do when you leave your friends? They’re going to want to stay in contact with you
. To which I replied,
Ironic… since you have exactly one friend on Facebook, and the only reason you have a Facebook account is so that you can keep track of that friend. Even though you insist you have no interest in this friend
.

It was a setback in my plan to prove to Luca that I was a happy, well-adjusted, normal girl… what
normal girl
isn’t on Facebook? Plus, Luca and I had a twenty-minute argument about Facebook, which is twenty minutes of our lives that we will never get back. All this bullshit, all this bedspread coordinating and Facebook conversations to be Luca’s Jude. The bedding she chose has butterflies on it.
Butterflies
.

“Did you schedule your orientation?”

“Can’t you just give me a tour? I have my class schedule and you know where all the buildings are.” I sound pissy, so I take a deep breath and re-apply my smile.

“There is shit they tell you that’s important that I don’t know about.”

“Don’t you remember that stuff from your orientation?” I ask sweetly, knowing full-well that he would never attend such a thing.

“Get your ass on the orientation list, Jude. Find out what one Stephanie is going to and sign up with her.”

I push back all the words leaping from my brain to my vocal cords and instead say, “Okay. I’ll text her when we get off the phone.”

There is a pause on his end. I’m sure I’ve shocked him with my obedient ways. “Do that,” he eventually says.

“I can’t wait to see you,” I try not to say, so it comes out as a whisper.

“I’m going to be busy the first few weeks you’re here,” he says coolly and my chest tightens like it always does when he blows me off.

“That’s okay. I understand,” I say, instead of fighting him.

“I’ll come help you get set up,” he offers; which is more then I get from my normal response.

“I’m not bringing much. I’m sure I’ll be fine. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“I will always worry about you,” he says, his voice faint.

“I’m good, Luca. You don’t have to. You can come around if you want to see me, if you want to make me happy, but don’t come just because you’re worried about me. I’ve been without you for two years; I can handle unpacking a suitcase without you.” My words could have sounded bitter and sarcastic, but I try hard to make them sound sweet and sincere.

There is silence on his end again so I decide to cut this short, considering how well I’m doing with the new me. “I’m really tired. Is it okay if I just talk to you tomorrow?”

“Sure, sweet girl,” comes his quiet response.

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” he echoes.

I hang up the phone.

It’s the first time in two years that we haven’t said we love each other. I wonder how well my act is working after all.

“Holy crap, I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Callie says as we drive to Salon Amore for my final transformation. I can’t believe we’re doing this either. The butterflies, that are so present in my stomach these days that I should probably name them, flutter to life at the idea of showing up looking like I will look in less than two hours from now. Luca says he wants me to be the girl I was before him, but I’m pretty sure he won’t like her. So far, I don’t like her.  “Last chance to back out,” Callie informs me as she puts her Volvo into park.

“Not an option,” I say, opening my door and stepping my barely covered, tanned leg onto the hard blacktop. My heels click methodically as I walk towards the salon. Callie is ahead of me, holding the door open with a half worried, half excited look on her face.

“Luca is gonna shit his pants when he sees you,” she says, looking my body up and down.

I can’t help but laugh. She has no idea. After I took down my Facebook page and Luca gave up his theories on why, he started asking me for pictures. I sent them to him- the kind he would expect; close-ups of my makeup-filled, pouty face. He started making requests.

Take a picture of yourself when you wake up in the morning.
I did. I knew he wanted to see me without makeup, even though he didn’t say this. 

Send me a picture of you and Callie.
This was so that he could make sure I still had her. He had replaced his one Facebook friend, but I wasn’t on Callie’s page either.

When we took our last trip to her cabin last weekend, just the two of us, he requested a picture of me in my bikini. I would like to think that it was because he craved my flesh, but I knew it was just to make sure that Arnie was keeping his hands off me. I stood like I was being frisked with a scowl on my face as Callie snapped the picture, just to prove I knew what he was up to.

I wanted him to crave my flesh though, not just my safety. So last night, knowing that after today I wouldn’t be able to send anymore pictures since I was saving the new me for Portland, I took my makeup off, I took my clothes off, I pulled my hair tie out and I looked into the camera, thinking about him. I thought about how much I needed him to want me. Then I snapped the picture. I looked at the picture; my vulnerable face, my pleading eyes, my parted lips, my eager breast and hard nipples, and then I sent it.

I stayed up half the night waiting for him to call or at least send a text. But nothing came. I haven’t talked to him since. I’m sure he’s upset with me or disgusted by my needy ways. I shouldn’t have sent that picture. It’s making me wonder if I’m making a mistake; changing myself for him. Will he ever want me the way I want him?

I’m in a black chair; it’s raising my cape-covered body. Callie is behind me, explaining to the stylist that I want to turn my straight, black hair into a layered, blonde mane. “It’s her natural color,” Callie says when the girl looks apprehensive about pulling off the dramatic change. A tight smile appears on the girl’s face before she goes over the steps it will take to get rid of the black I’ve been applying to my hair for three years.

“Fine,” I tell her before inserting my ear buds and tuning her out. Lately, I’ve been trying to emulate Callie’s friends and have added their playlists to my iPhone. I should put on Bruno Mars, Maroon Five or Meghan Trainor, but right now I really need to escape and those bands won’t help. I put on Arcade Fire’s
Funeral
, thinking it sounds about right. I close my eyes and wait for the last part of me to be killed off.

After a few trips to the sink, some time under the dryer and a lot of pulling and folding and painting and finally cutting, Callie comes to my side and pulls my ear buds out. “You’re done,” she tells me with a wide smile. “You ready to see?”

I shrug my shoulders, scared of the girl who will be staring back at me. “Don’t worry, you look great,” she tells me, moving her body to the side so that I am now faced with myself.

I stare at the stranger in the mirror. At first I don’t recognize her at all, but slowly I start to remember the girl who used to wear a less sleek and styled version of this hair. The me I used to be. This is who Luca wants, I remind myself. “He’ll love it,” I say, with my fake smile plastered on my face.

As if the hair wasn’t shocking enough, I sit through a manicure and pedicure. I watch as the black polish comes off, replaced by a soft pink. Nail by nail, I accepted the new me. The simple, pretty, clean, fresh me. I work her into my mind seeing her face, hearing her words, memorizing her mannerisms. By the time I step back on to the hard, black parking lot I’m quite comfortable in my new shell.

It’s weird, but I can’t stop looking in the mirror every few minutes. It’s a shock, every time. But one I’m starting to enjoy. The world around me seems to flutter away every time I look at that girl in the mirror. With each glance, I’m brought deeper into her world.

This is her world. This is her home. This is her life.

There is no drugged up mom in a bed across the hall. No one died in the room next to hers. In her house, no one’s ever been beat or berated.

Judith.

That’s who she is. She’s sweet and pretty. She’s hopeful and optimistic. She’s excited about going to college and meeting new friends. She even likes the butterfly comforter that she’s packing along with all her new clothes.

I put my earbuds back in. This time I put on the party mix that I downloaded from Callie’s computer. I dance around in my short, pink dress as I pack and organize my things. I smile without even trying. For the first time in my life I feel empty. It’s a strange feeling. I’m not defensive. I’m not angry. I’m not frustrated. I’m not bitter. I’m just empty. It’s a beautiful thing.

I notice when my bedroom door flies open. I see it happen. I register the man standing there. I see how his face turns from angry to confused and finally to excited. But I don’t react. Not like I usually would.

Everything freezes as I look at Arnie’s face. At that expression I haven’t seen for years. And for the first time since I ran away with Luca, I’m scared of him. The chirpy voice in my head that I’ve been listening to since I left the salon subsides, overtaken by panic.

I can feel Arnie’s eyes dragging over the long, blonde hair hanging over my bare shoulders. Raking over my cleavage and down my bare legs. I watch, paralyzed, as the old familiar expression washes over his face. The one that makes me sick.

“My, my. What do we have here?” he drawls long and slow, taking a step towards me. I immediately take several backwards until I hit the wall. I know this isn’t me. I know this isn’t how I react to him anymore but I’m literally paralyzed. I pull the earbuds out of my head and try to pull me, the girl that’s not afraid of Arnie, out of the corner I pushed her into. But I can’t find her. I can’t find my words. Or my expression. Or my confidence and anger.

“
You went and got yourself all pretty for those college boys.” He walks slow and steady towards me as I try to back myself further into the wall. “Don’t tell me this is all for your dirty little boyfriend.” I watch his slick, meaty tongue slide across his upper lip. I can hear the spit sliding across his flesh

Come on Jude. Pull your shit together. You are not afraid of him. You are in control. He’s afraid of you. Come on, Jude.
I feel the fight rising in me but the way he’s looking at me is making me feel sick in my gut and between my legs and it overtakes the small amount of courage I managed to scrape together.  I turn into the wall and crouch down – away from him, away from that disgusting look on his face.

“I don’t know that that’s fair, little girl. I get the mean ugly, bitch for the past three years and he gets this?” His boot slams into my back but I don’t cry out. I will not give him the satisfaction. “I’ve missed that look, you little bitch. So vulnerable, so terrified.” He kicks me several more times, thrusting harder with each blow.

I began praying to Jonah.
Please, please make him stop. Don’t let him do this to me.
For a moment I think it might be working because he stops.

“Stand up and look at me,” he coaxes.

I will stay here in this ball on the floor forever if I have to. He crouches down behind me and I can feel his hot breath on the back of my hair. I feel it spreading and I want it off me. His hand runs over my hair and I flinch. “Get the fuck away from me,” I manage to mutter but I can’t shake the girl in the pink dress and the words sound wrong coming out of my mouth.

All he does is laugh. “Do I need to make you turn around so I can see you?”

Please Jonah, God, someone. Luca. Help me.

“Well this is no fun. What happened to that bitch I’ve been living with? The one who disrespects her mom with her filthy mouth?”

She’s gone. I killed her. God, I am so stupid.
“Get away from me,” I yell into the wall but I know my words no longer have the impact they did this morning. I feel his hand cup my bottom and his fingers brush the skin where my dress ends. The sick feeling spreads and I gag.

He stands and I hear his hands on the wall above me and then feel his knee slam into my ribs. I barely feel the pain over the relief that his hands are off me. He grabs a hold of my hair and continues to force his knee into my back.

I don’t move. I don’t make a sound.

He releases my hair but I know he’s not done. His boot kicks the back of my head and my forehead slams against the wall once before I bring my hands protectively to my head. He continues to kick me – my shoulders, my spine, my ribs. All the while telling me that I’m ugly and I don’t get to be pretty for
him.

Tears run down my face, hot and steady, but I don’t yell or cry out. 

When I hear him unbuckling his belt a cold fear courses through my body. When he whips my back I feel relief. I welcome the burning pain.

When he’s done he tells me, “You deserved that.”

He’s gone, but I don’t move from the corner. I can’t move. I don’t want to.

I cry and I curse myself for being so stupid and careless. I curse myself because I needed Jonah. I wasn’t able to protect myself. I curse Luca too. I don’t want to need his protection but he tells me all the time that he’s keeping us apart to protect me. That it’s his job to protect me. How the hell does he think he’s going to keep me safe when he’s thousands of miles away?

Eventually my body gives out and I lay on the floor, still in my ball. I watch out the window as the sun drops and it becomes night. My mom never comes to check on me, not that I expected her to. It’s my last night in this house and she didn’t come to ask if I wanted dinner or to tuck me in. She doesn’t do those things anymore – I know that. But tonight it hurts. Tonight I could have used a mom. I wonder if she even realizes I’m leaving tomorrow. And that I’m never coming back.

I’m in a state of half sleep when my phone chiming in my purse rouses me completely. I move to grab it and a pain sears through me. I turn the phone over and stare at Luca’s face as it flashes on the screen. I shouldn’t answer it. I know that. I sent him that stupid picture last night and he didn’t call me. I turned myself into this weak, stupid, mindless girl for him and I paid the price.

I take a deep breath and hit “answer” because as much as I want to kill that stupid blonde girl, she’s still trying to exist for him. “Hey,” I manage to push the word out of my dry mouth.