The Cat That Went to Homecoming (8 page)

Read The Cat That Went to Homecoming Online

Authors: Julie Otzelberger

Tags: #friendship, #forgiveness, #depression, #cat, #fun, #dance, #divorce, #social issues, #bullying, #homophobia, #homecoming, #overweight, #social isolation, #teenage girl, #pet cat, #family separation, #pet partners

BOOK: The Cat That Went to Homecoming
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Chapter
Twelve

 

Mom allowed me to turn our spare bedroom into
an office for myself since it was only being used for storage. Mom
had bought me an inexpensive ready-to-assemble desk at Wal-Mart, so
we set up my workspace. My application had been sent to Pet
Partners and it would be a few weeks before I heard anything from
them, but in the meantime, I was getting ready to start my new
phase in life.

We worked together going through all the junk
in the room, my old toys, holiday decorations, and clothing that we
had outgrown. I found a swimsuit that had belonged to my mom some
years ago, a sassy little red one-piece.

“Mom, can I try this on?” I asked, holding
the suit out for her to see. “Cindy invited me over to swim on
Saturday and I don’t have a suit.”

“You certainly can! And somewhere in here
there’s a sarong wrap that matches. I’ll look for it while you go
try on the suit.”

I sprinted to my room and closed the door,
excited and scared at the same time. I hadn’t worn a swimsuit in
years! I didn’t even know what size I wore. I looked at the tag in
the suit—Medium. Oh boy, I doubted a medium would fit me. I knew
the Lycra fabric in swimsuits had some give to it, but I didn’t
want to look like a sausage stuffed into its casing!

Hershey was scratching at the outside of the
door wanting to join me, but this was something I wanted to do
alone. With a sigh, I undressed and held the suit out in front of
me. I stepped into the leg holes, and closed my eyes tight as I
pulled the suit up over my hips. It fit! I pulled the built in bra
up over my breasts and put my arms through the shoulder straps, eye
still shut. I ran my hands down the sides of my body, feeling the
smooth fabric.

I opened my eyes and faced the vanity mirror
to see what I looked like. To my surprise, I looked okay. I
wouldn’t go out in public in the suit, but I looked better than I
would have a few months ago. The snug fabric flattened my belly
pouch so that I didn’t look pregnant, but my legs bulged out of the
leg holes most unattractively. Why can’t someone make swim suits
that cover the thighs? The suit fit my breasts well, and apparently
that was one area I had not lost any weight because I had ample
cleavage. Holy crap!

Mom knocked on the door, “I found the
sarong,” she said. “Can I come in?”

I quickly checked to make sure the bruises on
my ribs weren’t visible. Good, the suit covered them all. I let her
in.

“Wow,” she said. I was suddenly very
embarrassed.

“I don’t know about this,” I said as I
clumsily tried to cover myself with my arms.

“Trust me, Ellen, you look fine!” She stepped
forward and pulled my arms away from my body. She wrapped the
sarong around my waist and stepped back to look at me.

“Go take a look in the mirror,” she said,
with a smile.

I walked over to the vanity and looked at
myself. My legs rubbed together at the thighs, and were pasty white
from never having seen the sun. My arms were chubby with no
muscular definition. But I once again I noticed the hint of
collarbones.

“No, Mom, I’m sorry, this just doesn’t work
for me,” I said.

She sighed. “Well, then, we will have to go
shopping. You can’t go swimming at Cindy’s house in jeans and a
t-shirt! Get dressed and meet me at the car.”

“Mom, I will find something to wear,
don’t—”

She raised her hand and cut me off. “Enough!
I told you we are receiving child support now, and it’s about time
your dad bought you something you need. Now get your butt out of my
swimsuit and into some clothes. We’re going shopping!” She teased
with a dirty grin.

We ended up at a department store. Mom led me
through the juniors section despite my arguing with her that junior
sizes didn’t fit me. She grabbed a tankini with boy shorts and told
me to go try it on.

“Mom, you’re out of your mind! This won’t fit
me,” I said.

She didn’t respond. She just pushed me
towards the fitting room. I had no choice but to do as she asked. I
closed the door, grumbling to myself, and faced the mirror.

I undressed and pulled the boy shorts on over
my panties. Hmm, they fit, and they covered just enough of my
thighs. What an ingenious idea! Whoever came up with the idea of
boy short swim bottoms should be given an award!

I pulled the tankini top over my head and
adjusted my breast into the cups. Once again, to my surprise, it
fit. I stepped back and looked at myself, turning from side to
side. I didn’t think I looked that bad, in fact, I was smiling. I
actually liked this swim suit. The only problem was that the sides
dipped down low enough that the bruises on my left side showed a
little bit. I knew Mom would want to see me in the suit, and then
she’d see the bruises.

“Well, Ellen? What’s taking so long?” I heard
her say outside of the door.

“I like it. I’ll take it,” I replied.

“Let me see it,” she said impatiently. I
sighed, held my left arm tight to my side and opened the door.

Mom whistled at me when she saw me. “Wow!”
she said. “You look fantastic Ellen! And you thought it wouldn’t
fit!”

I just laughed her off and blushed. “Okay,
okay, you were right. I’m going to take this off now.”

We walked past racks of clothing on our way
to the cashier. Mom pulled a pair of shorts off one rack and made
me try them on. Four pairs of shorts and two graphic t-shirts
later, we made it to the cashier.

The day of the swimming party, I started
getting ready at eleven o clock in the morning. I was so excited, I
couldn’t wait! I had my boy shorts on under a pair of denim shorts,
and I was trying to decide if I should put one of my new t-shirts
on over the tankini top or not. I wanted to go without the t-shirt,
but I figured if I felt uncomfortable being so bare, I would have a
miserable time. It would be best to stay as covered up as possible.
I ended up throwing the t-shirt on.

Before she left for work, Mom had laid out
some of her makeup for me to put on if I wanted to. I was sixteen
years old and had never worn makeup! I didn’t want to look like a
clown, so I sat at my computer and Googled how to apply makeup
subtly.

By one o’clock I was ready with an hour to
kill. It seemed like a good time to take Hershey out for his daily
walk. Besides, he was irritated at my neglect of him all
morning!

We walked to the end of the driveway and
Hershey decided he needed to investigate the tall grass in the
ditch of our yard. I sat on the edge of the ditch with a light hold
on his leash while he explored the grass and small pool of water.
To his surprise, a frog hopped out of the puddle and made Hershey
jump a good foot straight up in the air! Then he tried to chase it,
but was stopped short by the tension in the leash. Laughing at his
silly antics, I stood up to pick him up when I heard a car horn
honk.

I looked up to find Brandon behind the wheel
of a red Chevy Cavalier.

“Hey, there, good looking. What are you up
to?” he said through the open window. I blushed deeply. Did he call
me good looking?

“Hi, Brandon, I’m just walking Hershey. Looks
like you got your driver’s license. Cool! Is this your car?” I
asked, still blushing.

“Yep, I passed the road test on the first
try, and got my license last week. My parents let me use this car,
but it’s not in my name. I’m guessing that they’ll sign it over to
me eventually, but not yet. Are you going over to Cindy’s?” he
asked.

I told him I was and he offered to drive me
there. I told him I had to take Hershey back into the house, so he
should just go without me and I’d be there soon.

“I can wait for you, besides, it’s a little
early. Maybe we could hang out here for a while?”

I was dumbfounded, never in my life had I had
a boy in my house with me! I’m pretty sure I looked shocked because
he said, “I promise, I won’t bite.” His comment made me laugh. I
picked up Hershey and said, “Park in my driveway and meet me at the
door.” On my way to the house, I stopped at the mail box and
grabbed the mail.

I unleashed Hershey when we entered the house
and stood at the door to let Brandon in. While I waited for him, I
sifted through the mail and came across a big envelope from Pet
Partners! I opened it to find my acceptance letter, my name badge,
Hershey’s Pet Partner’s tag and his service animal vest. I let out
a “whoot whoot” and jumped up and down just as Brandon got to the
door. I opened the door for him and without realizing what I was
doing, I hugged him in excitement.

“I got it!” I kept saying as I hugged
Brandon. “It’s official!”

Brandon was chuckling, but did not push me
away. Instead, he jumped up and down with me! When I realized what
I was doing, I backed away from him and apologized. I was beet red
with embarrassment.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” he said, “and
congratulations!”

It was a very awkward few minutes of me not
knowing exactly what to do. Should I offer him a glass of lemonade?
Watch TV? I didn’t have a game system, like Xbox or Wii.

“I’m going to put this stuff on my desk. I’ll
be right back.” I figured Brandon might think to make a quick
escape, and I wouldn’t blame him. But instead, he followed me.

He was looking around my “office”, stopped at
a poster on the wall of Maroon Five, and then sat in my computer
chair.

“This is pretty cool, you have your own
office,” he said. I laughed.

“I guess you could say that,” I said.

Hershey was at Brandon’s feet, smelling his
shoes and assessing him in his cat manner. “Hey, little dude,”
Brandon said as he bent down to pet Hershey’s head, “You got a job
before I did!” Hershey stood with his front paws on Brandon’s legs
and head butted his knees.

“I think Hershey likes you,” I said.

“I have two cats, so he can probably tell I’m
a cat person,” Brandon said.

I sat on the floor and pet Hershey while
Brandon went on to tell me more about himself. The awkwardness I
felt earlier disappeared completely and I found myself at ease with
Brandon. He talked about his school, and I got the impression he
did not enjoy going there.

“It has to better than my school,” I
said.

“No, I seriously doubt that,” he said. “I’m
pretty sure it doesn’t matter where you go to school, when you’re
different, you’re not accepted anywhere.”

I could not imagine Brandon being
“different”. Since he attended a Catholic school, I assumed the
kids would be nice and God-fearing? Weren’t they taught ‘Do unto
others as you would have done unto you?’

“Brandon, I don’t mean to pry, but I’m
curious. Why do you think you are different?”

“Do you know who my father is?” he asked
me.

“No, should I?” I asked, kind of
surprised.

“Do you remember when the police chief of our
county was caught with a male prostitute four years ago?” I did
recall that story, although four years ago I did not fully
understand what homosexuality or prostitution was.

“That man is my father,” he said, searching
my face for a reaction I didn’t give him.

“So? Why does that matter?” I asked, truly
meaning it. Why DID it matter?

“Ellen,” he sighed and looked at the ground,
“everyone at every school I’ve attended since then thinks I’m gay.”
He looked up and watched me in complete silence for a minute while
I tried to find the words to say in response. I was speechless and
confused.

“Okay, well ARE you gay?” I dared to ask.

He just looked at me blankly, sadly. “Would
it matter if I were?” He asked in return.

I gave him a soft smile, put my hand on his
knee, and said, “Absolutely not Brandon. Does it matter to you that
I’m overweight?”

“First of all, Ellen, you’re not overweight,
and second of all, I like the person you are, not the size of the
person you are.”

We spent the next two hours sharing our life
stories with one another. Brandon said his parents divorced after
the scandal broke, and his mom eventually remarried. His stepfather
was a real jerk. He insinuated at every opportunity that Brandon
was “like his father” and after Brandon had been expelled from
several schools for getting into fights, his stepfather convinced
his mom that sending him to a religious high school might put “the
fear of God” in him and change him, as if Brandon was the one who
needed changing.

I opened up and told Brandon about my life,
telling him about all the cruel things kids at school said and did
to me. I told him about my life-long crush on John Peck, and all of
the ridiculous daydreams I would have about him. I told him about
the pain my dad put me through after leaving my mom, and how I just
found out that he didn’t even care enough for me to send my mom
support. Then I told him how and why I detached myself from Cindy,
and how much I regretted that.

Brandon stood from the chair and offered a
hand to help me up. “Well let’s fix that and head over to Cindy’s.
I’m very close to her, and I can tell you that she is very fond of
you.”

Brandon and I were the last two to arrive at
Cindy’s house. I was so nervous that I chewed the ends of my nails
down until my fingers bled as we walked around the house to the
back yard. I was so thankful I decided to wear the t-shirt over my
swim suit. I found myself tugging at the bottom of it, trying to
stretch it down over my butt before we rounded the corner. Who
would I find sitting back there? Would Darcel and her evil minions
be waiting to pounce on me?

Mrs. Haskel was the first to greet me. She
was pouring ice into a cooler when she looked up and saw me.

“Ellen! It’s been a long time, how are you
dear?” she asked as she offered me a hug.

“Hi, Mrs. Haskel, it’s good to see you
again,” I said to her as we hugged.

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