Little Mermaid Ch. 02

After buying a bagful of appropriate make-up, she went to a small, stuffy vintage store to add the right outfits to her new image: short black skirts, a black satin blouse, tight latex and lycra tops, fingerless gloves, lots of fat, cheap rings, and black nylons. Hoof-like heels completed the style, as did clumsy Dr. Marten's boots.

***

There is theory, and then there is practice. Sitting in her dented little Toyota, Ariel estimated the distance she'd have to walk from the parking lot to her school's entrance. She'd gotten up half an hour earlier that morning to create her new persona. Getting dressed in her outfit, she felt the unusual tightness gripping her body. The fake-leather skirt hugged her no-hips and thighs; her calves felt stretched by the new height of her heels.

Coming home last night, she'd ignored the panicked outcry of her mother as she noticed her black hair and spooky make-up. Dinner had been a quiet affair; the woman must have been too overwhelmed to even find words to express her horror. Ariel smiled into her rearview mirror as she added a new dark layer to her lips. Her night-black hair stood out in spikes, gleaming with gel. Her eyes sparkled in deep dark beds of kohl and mascara. Her skin was as pale as death. She was ready to show the world a new fuck-you-all Ariel. Or was she? She put her abundantly ringed fingers on the door handle of the car, waiting for people to clear her field of vision. Then she got out, wrestling with the tightness of her skirt and her wobbly ankles. She walked past the rows of cars to the steps that led to the school's entrance. People turned and watched. Their eyes widened and there was a hush spreading. Did they even recognize her? She heard her nylon stockings swish as she walked, looking straight ahead. She also heard voices mumbling as she tried to scale the steps without stumbling.

"Ari? Is that you, Ari?" She knew the voice; it was Von's. Other voices took up the question, and it became harder to ignore them. She felt a flush of nervousness as she smelled a wave of panic. But she walked on, clutching her black, studded bag. From the corner of her eyes, she saw the head cheerleader and her gang of big haired blondes. When she entered the building, Barb stepped forward, blocking her path. Liz joined her in full wannabe Kardashian glory.

"Ari?" Barb said, tilting her head in disbelief.

"Barb," she said, smiling. "Hi Liz; something wrong?" There was no tremble in her voice, which gave her pride. She widened her smile and raised her hand to let them know she wanted to pass. In the hall, even more people gawked. 'Fuck', she thought, 'haven't they ever seen something different?' Ignoring the crowd as well as she could, she found the way to her classroom, overdoing the clatter of her heels. After she sat down at her table, she took care to look and nod and smile at every student entering. It was fun to see the recognition dawn in their eyes, usually followed by an uncertain smile.

"Who's the new student?" She knew Ms. Ferguson must be joking, but she rose and said:

"My name is Ariel Elizabeth Moore."

***

"Why do you do this to yourself?" Ariel looked up from her test paper. She'd recognized the voice and tried to fight the hot flash rising from her chest. She wondered how to respond. After two more feeble efforts at getting her attention during these last weeks, Tim Bradlee seemed to have given up on her. But she'd always noticed his glances from afar, and they never stopped making her heart speed. He might be an asshole, but what was she? A hypocrite? Someone should really tell her body it ought to hate him.

"Don't you like it?" she replied at last, squeezing her eyes against the glaring sun while trying to sound disinterested. She knew the white sunlight enhanced her paleness, setting it off against her black hair, eyes and outfit. Her booted feet were up on a second chair, causing her thighs in dark shiny nylons to be prominently exposed. The tiny faux-leather shorts pinched her crotch. He looked down on her, saying nothing. She chuckled. "Not the brand of ugliness you like, I guess," she said, taking her feet down and sitting up. "My dad hates it too."

"Not a chance," he said. The answer puzzled her. Not a chance of what? Hooding her eyes against the sun, she tried to read his face. Same eyes, same crooked smile.

"Not a chance?" she asked. He grinned.

"No chance that you'll ever be ugly," he said, looking her over. "Although you did quite a job of it." A cloud of annoyance passed over her face.

"Try your lies on Alice Brown and her tits brigade, or Lucinda Dell, Tim, or that drop out whore I saw you with. They'll believe anything for a good fuck with the king of jocks." He sat down on the chair she just took her feet off, the brace on his knee still making him sit a bit awkward.

"You really think everybody is fucking everybody, don't you?" he said, leaning into her. His face was way too close.

"No," she said, moving back. "Only the people with the right credentials. And, if you please, I must get to my tests. Ugly girls need to compensate, you know." He sighed, trying to make it sound light-hearted.

"Why did I have to fall for you, Ariel?" he wondered. "So many ordinary, off-the-rack girls to choose from." Did he say: 'fall for'? How cruel can you get? A wave of wounded indignation hit her, making tears burn behind her eyes. She hit him with a fistful of ringed fingers.

"Fuck off!" she yelled. "Maybe they 're right. Maybe boys fuck any tit-less horror as long as it has a hole, or two. But do you really have to act as if you care?" Tears were running down her cheeks, taking her mascara with them. His hand grabbed her pounding fist, and he leant in even closer. His big, calm eyes were steady; they never left hers, creating a pool to drown in. She didn't want to drown. She didn't want to even swim. But there was no way she could move away; she couldn't move, period. He could. And he did. His lips were so much softer than she'd imagined standing under all those endless, lonely showers. His arms were warm, and around her. She smelled his cologne. And then she did drown.