An Imperfect Circle (7 page)

“
I… eh…” I can’t lie but I don’t want Karl to know that I know. I don’t need the drama and it’s obviously a touchy subject.

“
Shit,” Karl mutters, his face red with either anger, humiliation, or both.

“
What. Did. You. Hear?” Ian demands slowly.

“
Look… I was just…” I mumble.

“
She fucking heard, Ian,” Karl panics, looking from me to his brother and back again. “What are we gonna-”

“
Quiet,” Ian snaps “We need to talk,
Ellie
,” he levels me with a serious glare. He takes a few steps closer to me and I don’t like the frustration on his face.

I know he loves his brother. He’s here helping him. No matter how much of an ass he was being, he was still there, helping Karl keep his secret and his dignity. He may have been my friend at one point in time but
not any more. Even if he was, Karl would always be more important to him.

The look he’s
giving me tells me he’ll do anything to keep his brother’s secret safe. Even if he has to threaten me.

My legs
are moving before I consider any other options. I jump the turnstile out of the library and bolt through the door. As my feet pound the tarmac, I can hear footsteps behind me and I’m moving on pure adrenaline.

I don’t know what god, goddess, or spirit
is looking down on me but something is working for me. Maybe it’s my attempt at positive thinking. Whatever it is, it makes sure the bus is at the stop. I jump on it just as the driver closes the doors. Taking a deep breath, I slump into my seat, my eyes meeting Ian’s as the bus pulls away.

I expect Ian and Karl to confront me the next day at school but they don’t. In fact the entire Carter family are keeping their distance. I still have to work with Matt in D&T but he refuses to speak to me and he’s progressed from glaring at me to outright sneering every time I try to talk to him about the design.

Whatever.

If they want to pretend it never happened then that’s fine by me. I don’t need the drama. Although Becky is my best friend, I don’t tell her about what I saw and heard. It’s not that I’m keeping secrets from her, it just isn’t my secret to tell.

By Friday, I’ve
practically forgotten about it. I have more important things going on. Firstly, there’s my schoolwork. All my courses are relevant to my future in some way, even if I don’t strictly need them. Secondly, there’s my friendship with Becky. I’m a little bit in love with her and the way she makes me feel happier, just by being with her. Finally, there are the rumours which have been circulating over the last week or so that I’m gay.

I wish.

My life would be so much easier and, as I’ve already said, I totally love Becky.

But no. I’m not. The rumours don’t bother me but the snide comments are getting to Blossom and she deserves better than that. People are labelling her as gay by association and she’s just too shy to fight back.

“Carpet munchers!” A lanky blond kid shouts out as Becky and I come out of a bathroom after fourth period. He compliments the filth coming out of his mouth with an even filthier finger-tongue gesture.

Bilge worm.

I see Becky’s bottom lip trembling as I flip the guy off and I wrap my arms around her. It’s probably not helping the rumours but I know she’s a tactile person and she needs it. She really does smell like sugar, and spice, and all things nice, and I’m getting much better at hugging her without looking like C-3PO.

“
I’m sorry, Blossom,” I say gently as I release her. “It’s okay if you want to stop hanging around with me for a while. I’ll understand.”

“
What? No!” She blurts, clearly horrified at the suggestion. “I just don’t understand how people can be so mean. You’ve not done anything to them.”

“
Everyone has a bit of evil in them. Good people just chose not to act upon it,” I smile reassuringly. “Negative actions will never give you a positive life.”

“
I like that,” Becky cheers up a bit. “Simple but a good rule to live by.”

“
One of my mum’s many mantras,” I shake my head in fond amusement. “Speaking of my mum, she keeps demanding that I invite you round for dinner.”

“
Really?” Becky’s eyes widen, rising above her thick glasses.

“
Yeah,” I nod slightly awkwardly. Do sixteen year olds invite their friends round for dinner? I really have no clue.

“
My mum wants to meet you too, but…” she breaks off and her cheeks flare up again.

“
But what?” I frown.

“
My Dad is a bit… well… he might be a bit funny about your make-up and stuff,” she explains bashfully.

I laugh.
“Becky Blossom, I only wear this stuff to school. It’s not who I am. It’s just clothes and foundation.”

“
I know that,” she nods and I know she means it. She’s not once judged me. “He’s just a bit… traditional.”

I laugh because I can sort of imagine a stiff, suit-wearing type as Becky’s dad.

“Sorry,” she purses her lips apologetically.

“
No worries, Blossom,” I grin. “I’m not out to be best friends with your dad.”

She smiles but I can tell her
thoughts are still on the mindless insults of the uninformed.

“
At least it’s the weekend in an hour,” I reassure her. “Want to come over tomorrow?”

“
To your house?” She perks up.

I nod.
“We can mooch around town a bit then have lunch at mine. Maybe you could help me tone it down a bit so I can meet your parents when we drop you off at home?”

“
You don’t have to do that for me, Ellie,” Becky Blossom frowns dejectedly. “You don’t have to change who you are.

“
I told you, the clothes aren’t who I am. I don’t dress quite like this on the weekends,” I grin. “It’s just… just… it’s like a costume.”

She looks at me quizzically and I know she doesn’t really get it.

My look is a part of Ellie. It’s an extra layer of protection to help me keep what’s left of Elise safe. I need it at school because, as I’ve witnessed over the past few days, kids can be cruel. I need my armour.

“
So, how about it? Town, then mine, then yours?” I prompt. I’m actually kind of nervous. I don’t do nervous. Considering I had no desire to make friends, it’s strange how attached I’ve become to Becky in such a short time.

“
Awesome sauce!” She grins, squeezing my hand tightly.

As I predicted, mum, aunt
Cecile, and Bear are all ridiculously excited at the prospect of me hanging out with another teenage girl. I complete the obligatory process of rolling my eyes at each of them, although I think the effect is lost over the phone with Bear.

T
hey all think there’s something wrong with me because I’ve not really had any friends before. But that was a choice. There’ll be plenty of time for friends when I’m Elise again. When I’m perfect again.

Becky and I arranged to meet in town and she’s already
waiting for me outside the main shopping centre. Her chunky glasses are dotted with droplets of rain and her normally straight hair has become slightly wavy.

“
You never heard of an umbrella, Blossom?” I mock her affectionately, giving her the hug I know is coming anyway.

“
It was sunny when I caught the bus,” she pouts.

I grin.
“No worries, we can stay inside the shopping centre.”

“
Awesome sauce,” she nods, grabbing my hand and leading the way in.

“
Hey, I had an idea,” I grin wickedly.

“
What?” She eyes me suspiciously.

“
Okay, hear me out,” I say, because I’m not sure if she’ll go for it. “Let’s pick clothes and stuff for each other.”

“
Like a makeover?” She purses her lips hesitantly.

“
Sort of,” I shrug. “I just thought that maybe you could pick something that I could wear without freaking your dad out.”

“
And you’d pick clothes for me?” She frowns.

“
Yeah,” I shrug again, a little less confident because she looks unhappy. “Only if you want to. I just thought it could be fun. You always wear really bright clothes, which is perfect because you have a bright personality. I thought it’d be fun to pick some out for you as well.”

“
So I wouldn’t have to wear um… alternative clothes?” She narrows her eyes at me suspiciously.

I laugh,
I can’t help it. “No, Becky Blossom. You’re too happy to wear sad clothes.”

“
Okay,” she grins. “Yeah! This will be so much fun.”

I relax and even crack a smile. Becky is beautiful. She thinks she needs to lose weight but she looks healthy as she is. She doesn’t seem to realise how beautiful she is and she definitely dresses as though she doesn’t. She
has nice, colourful clothes but they often clash and they’re usually quite shapeless. I’m hoping I can show her that she can still wear bright colours but in a way that will force her to stop hiding.

We spend
far too long trying on ridiculous outfits and I have to make a dash to the toilet to stop from wetting myself when Becky comes out wearing dungarees over a pair of rainbow striped tights.

Eventually, once we’ve calmed down and won the battle over the giggles, we get down to the real shopping.
I find the perfect olive green blouse and a pair of high-waisted, tan trousers, which hug Blossom’s curvy figure to perfection. I know she usually tries to hide her figure but she definitely shouldn’t.

“
Wow! You look amazing,” I tell her sincerely.

“
But look at my belly,” she whines, looking at herself in the mirror like she might cry.

“
What about it?” I frown.

She raises
an eyebrow and pokes her stomach with one finger.

“
Becky,” I sigh, drawing out her name. “So you have a little bit of a tummy, so what?” I roll up my own tank top to show her my slight pouch.

I’m not fat. I have a slightly rounded stomach but I have nothing against it. I’m no supermodel and that’s fine by me. I’m all about what’s on the inside.

“Am I fat, Becky?” I prompt seriously.

“
Of course not,” she gasps.

“
We have very similar figures, Blossom. You’re beautiful, don’t put yourself down. There are plenty of horrible people out there who will do that for you. Don’t make their job easier.”

“
You’re just saying that,” she grimaces.

I scowl because this is the first time she’s made me anything but happy. I’m almost angry.
“I don’t lie, Becky,” I snap. “If I say something then you can be damn sure I mean it.”

I turn around, leaving her a view of my back as I take a few deep breaths to calm myself down a bit.
I know I’ve overreacted slightly, and I feel a bit stupid for doing it, but I thought Becky knew me better than that, even after such a short time, and I can’t stand the idea that she thinks my insides would be so filthy that I would spew lies.

“
Ellie, I’m so sorry.” Becky’s chemical X grip encompasses me from behind. “That was wrong of me. You were just trying to be nice and I… well, I didn’t think. I’m just not used to seeing myself in clothes like this.”

I just nod, accepting her apology. Sometimes a lack of self-confide
nce can make us do silly things and I’m not going to hold it against her.

“
So, I get to pick clothes for you now?” Becky beams, her eyes hopeful. Whether it’s hope that I say yes or hope that she’s forgiven, I’m not sure.

“
Yup,” I nod. “Just not pink. Please, please, not pink.” There’s not point me having clothes I won’t wear again and I don’t usually have my dreads on when I’m at home. Pink clothes clash with my red hair something rotten.

“
Okay,” she agrees thoughtfully. “What’s your favourite colour?”

I shrug.
“I like all colours.”

“
Really?” Becky seems sceptical. “Then how come you always wear black?”

“
I don’t always wear black,” I grin. “I just…” I don’t know how to explain it to her. “It’s easier to let people assume they know who you are from your clothes than take the time to explain it to them. If I dress like I do at school, people assume they know me and only the good ones take the time to really learn.”

She studies me for a few
seconds and then smiles brightly. She’s realised I’m paying her a discreet compliment; Becky Blossom is definitely the sort of person that gets to know what’s on the inside. That’s the sort of person I like.

“
Right,” she nods, pulling me by the hand through rails and rails of clothes. “I know what you should wear.”

I’m dressed in dark grey jeans and a black band t-shirt that I’ve cut up to have strips missing from the back. Underneath that I have a bright blue tank top. My dreads are threaded with blue ribbons and I’ve omitted the foundation and contact lenses so that my green eyes are showing. They’re made brighter by the neutral shades of eye shadow I’m wearing.

“You look really good in blue,” Becky encourages, holding up a little navy dress. It’s got white detailing with red stitching. There’s a big red button in the middle of the white and blue sash around the waist.

I raise an eyebrow at her because I have no idea where she got the idea from. I do like the big round button in the middle though.

“I don’t usually wear dresses,” I grimace. They’re too similar to nighties. I hate nighties.

“
I thought you could wear these under it?” Becky offers, holding up a pair of three quarter length white leggings.

I think about it. The leggings would definitely make me feel better about wearing a dress and Becky tried the
clothes I picked for her without complaints.

I barely recognise myself once I’m wearing the little outfit. I know without a shadow of a doubt that I’d look awesome if my normal hair was out. It would really complete the red
, white, and blue theme I’ve got going on here.

I’m not that patriotic and you wont find me sporting the Union Jack anytime soon but I like the combination. I have a pair of Jesus-style sandals Bear made me that would be perfect with the outfit if the weather were a little warmer.

“Oh, wow!” Becky grins when I open the cubicle door to show her. “You look great.”