Who Wishes Upon a Star Ch. 02

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"Luke, can I ask you something?" she said holding her arm by the wrist.

"Y-yeah."

"Do you know what a Mary Sue is?"

"No," Luke lied in a heartbeat, although unconvincingly.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

What kind of a fucking question was that? Are you a Mary Sue, old gal?

Sally's brother thinks so and he's known you for how long? A month? Ok, maybe Sally told him about you. Maybe you shouldn't have paid her hospital bills and went to check up on her. Chelsea might be right: why should you care? It's not like they did anything to you. They could have paid their bills somehow; this isn't Breaking Bad. Sally wouldn't feel bad. She barely has any friends. Do you have to be a savior to every lowlife? It's not like people don't like you enough. You can't enter a sex shop without some father's sister's nephew's roommate singing your praises. And what do you do then: you just smile, hug, tell them how glad you are to see them. I wonder how your face doesn't hurt from constant smiling. Just imagine them seeing you right now. Can the people even comprehend goodie-two-shoes Tiffany Something-inski taking a piss in a dingy toilet stall?

Tiffany had her face buried in her hands. She drew her foot over the mucky bathroom tile trying to collect herself.

Don't you want to go home? Just tell the Redwoods that you can't to stay for dinner because you're late for something else. A little lie hasn't hurt anybody. But they might get hurt. They must have prepared something expensive for you. They're grateful to you for God's sake! You don't have to do anything yourself; the Redwoods prepared this night just for you. This is probably the one occasion when you need to be a good girl. And what's the problem with being good? People like you; people adore you. Wherever you go the day gets better for someone. How is that a problem for you, Tiffany? Why are you sitting in a public toilet feeling sorry for yourself?

Tiffany exited the stall and trudged to the sink. Her hopes of an empty restroom were soon crushed for another girl had crept inside while she was in the stall.

Tiffany faced her reflection. She looked presentable at least albeit covered in sweat. Her arms barely sustained the pressure of her body as she tried to silence her overbearing mind. Coming here in the first place seemed like such a bad idea. Annoying acquaintances, Chelsea's domineering attitude, and now the dinner with the Redwoods; everything for which her enthusiasm was wavering. She closed her eyes and began counting to ten.

Tiffany breathed her soul out. And then, one by one, her gasps grew softer. The warm tingles crept beneath her skin. Soft scent filled her nostrils. Her heart beat louder in her ears. The concrete walls of the restroom were almost gone, and her mind had wandered to a careless haze in some Alpine stroll. Her body was heating up. She squirmed in place. It was almost like the air began tasting sweet. It was such an oddly familiar feeling.

Tiffany's gaze floated towards the stealthy dark-haired girl. A delicate frame just like hers, a cute shirt and an almost entire store of cheap makeup.

Tiffany's staring must've come off as freakish because the girl immediately avoided facing her. Tiffany giggled at that gesture from the bottom of her soul as she had always done to lighten the mood.

"Fucking who..." she mumbled and recoiled in shock.

Tiffany wanted to die of shame. She would never swear so freely. She didn't even have an excuse. Tiffany turned apologetically to the girl. She stood frozen, and kept her face away from Tiffany's curiosity.

The girl looked so delightful, Tiffany thought. Tiffany sensed in the girl that youthful carelessness that she seemingly exuded to everyone else. And the girl was pretty. She couldn't deny how supple the girl's figure is, how her hair was perfectly kempt, and how her skin had that Chelsea's eye-catching sheen. Longer she stared at her, the closer she crept towards her, she wanted to call her perfect.

Maybe she was jealous, but everyone would want this girl. There was something amazing and about her that destroyed expectations, like a notorious treasure. She appeared as everyone's type. She would be Sean's type.

"You know, you don't need these things. You're absolutely gorgeous as you are," Tiffany blurted out as soon as Sean got back into her thoughts and unconsciously stepped back.

Tiffany rubbed her nose to go back to her senses. She had wasted enough time here self-deprecating. She was sweating profusely. Tiffany brushed the perspiration from her brow and exited the restroom.

The girl with ash-black har was left in silence. She stood there motionless with her own insecurities. All her hidden emotions were again burrowing under her skin. She reached for the bottle of mascara and flailed it against the wall, breaking the glass container into pieces.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

For she's a jolly good fellow, she's a jolly good fellow

She's a jolly good fellow, which nobody can deny!

The cake was lowered before Tiffany. On it, in glazed letters it read:

To our savior, THANK YOU!

"Wow, Mrs Redwood," Tiffany said holding her cheeks, "I don't know what to say. You didn't need to."

"Shush, sweetie. It's the least we could do," Marion Redwood, overworked mother of two, reassured her.

Mrs. Redwood's excitement was immeasurable as much as she tried to hide it. Ever since she met this sweet maiden at the hospital, it became no wonder why Sally adored her. This girl was something unbelievable: a singer, an actress, a straight-A student, a regular churchgoer, a community service volunteer; a child every mother should be proud of. After all she had done for them, Marion could only offer Tiffany her very best: a modest dinner at a minimum wage.

The girls talked about everything and nothing. Tiffany had learnt to understand everyone's sensibilities and had no issue keeping up with any story.

Luke didn't bother keeping up. Blame it on the days wasted in the hospital bed (as opposed to the computer desk), Luke was still scrawny, droopy self. If only his groin could stop hurting. He tapped methodically at the screen of his mom's phone as he chatted with someone more important this night.

Their just talking

Girl stuff yknow

They're*

?

Your spelling was wrong.

Not that

What are you planning to do?

I am not sure.

We went through this

No postponing

Can you talk to her? Stall it out.

Are you seriously trying to leave?

We should do it another time.

NO

I can't do this tonight. We could do it again.

When?

We'll see.

No

Your scared

Of course, I am scared. This is not normal.

I can't do this.

You're*

Fuck you

This was all for you

You only have one chance

Now or never

You sure know a lot about taking your chances.

How has that been going for you?!!!

I'm so sorry

"Luke!" his mom growled "Drop that phone."

"Umm...sorry, mom." Luke apologized, shutting the phone. He didn't wish to return to that conversation.

"No, Mrs Redwood. It's fine," Tiffany stepped in for the rescue.

"He should just learn some proper manners and thank the girl without whom he wouldn't even be here in one piece. He is always talking to his friend online."

"I wasn't talking to Charlie...never mind," he stopped before he could say anything further.

"Don't worry, Mrs. Redwood. Luke said his thanks while we were coming here," Tiffany was a sweet twister of truth. "Is Charlie that boy that visited often?" she asked.

"Yeah, that's him. He watched the Lord of the Rings with me while we were in the hospital."

"Aww, you could've called me," Tiffany feigned taking offence.

"D-do you ever want to?" Luke's eyes lit up as he stammered.

"It would be fun," Tiffany said, and Luke considered it a promise.

"I never got the chance to see Charlie. I've always missed him. It seems visiting hours didn't apply to him."

"It seems visiting hours didn't apply to you as well," said Luke.

"My mom is a doctor. She was the one to tell me about what happened to you. I mean, what happened to Sally," Tiffany clumsily corrected herself.

Luke ignored that and continued, "Sally was really happy that you came. Even if she couldn't realize that you were there."

"I can't tell you how much this meant to us," Marion's voice was heavy, "We have never been so good with money, and I've learnt not to take things for granted or to ignore somebody. My Sally talked a lot about you. I just never expected that anyone would be so kind. Tell your mother we'll repay everything."

"Mrs Redwood, it's ok," Tiffany comforted her, "Just take your time. Anybody would have done the same. I can't imagine if that happened to me."

"God forbid! It was such a horrible thing," Marion was, despite her best efforts, nearing tears, "I was working when I got the message. I could barely stand when they showed them to me. For days I was shaking not knowing how it would all end. Tiffany, you will understand this when you have kids of your own. When I saw them, both bandaged up with all those tubes hanging above them...oh God!" Marion took out a tissue and gestured her apologies.

Luke grew uncomfortable, but not just for his mother's moment of sensitivity.

"Nobody should've been in your shoes, Mrs. Redwood," Tiffany comforted Marion.

"My poor Sally," Marion continued, "Those first weeks were pure horror. She was crying so much."

"How did they find out what the problem was? With the pain, I mean. I couldn't see her for so long. My mom also doesn't know what happened in the end, or she is just not telling me."

"Painkillers still weren't doing anything. She still continued screaming all day and night. What can you do when your child is in so much pain? You can't do anything to help her, and nobody can tell you what's wrong with your baby."

Marion was ashamed of her sorry state. Then, amidst the memories that were ripping her heart, she remembered the peculiar way it all ended.

In the end, all it took was time, damn time. It just stopped, like a miracle. I don't know how to describe it to you. Not even doctors could. You'll see it for yourself. It's absolutely incredible," Marion said as her tears, as well as her conviction, faded with the last sentence.

"I can't wait to see her in better shape," said Tiffany.

Luke listened intently. Each word built a lump in his throat blocking his air, wanting to suffocate him. Like a witness at his own trial, he whispered to himself, "It was all a big mistake."

Whether he wanted them to or not, the ears of empathy did hear him. "I actually don't know what exactly happened," Tiffany said as her eyes wondered to Luke. He again looked like a hurt little boy, weak and alone.

Luke's mom cut in, "I don't know either. Luke and Sally don't remember it quiet well—"

"There was a fire. That's all I know," Luke recited a well-rehearsed script.

Tiffany continued, "I only know it happened in the outskirts."

"There is nothing more to be said. Sally and I were going for a bike ride. We wanted to check out our old house. One thing led to another, and then the whole thing was up in flames. I'm not sure who called for help. I know it wasn't me," Luke recalled with each word harrying his voice and making it as heavy as an anchor. He listlessly gazed down as repressed memories of that night returned to torment him. During the last month, he had at least learnt to deal with them, or so he thought. Dealing with his own troubles alone was just something he had grown accustomed to do.

He barely noticed a warm embrace around his hand, and Tiffany's heavenly smile. Her warm eyes did a good ol' penetration of the soul as he would often say. With the voice that sounded just perfectly understanding, he heard her say, "Don't blame yourself. It was all a horrible accident."

"I expected somebody from school would mention what happened to you, but I heard it first from my mom. I was hoping to see somebody else than Charlie coming to visit you, but nobody was there. I didn't expect I would do much besides send some oranges and "get better" cards. It's only when I saw you, among those tubes, under those bandages, all burnt up that it didn't feel right. I just had to do more. I couldn't stop at a simple courtesy."

She held his hand tighter like she could never let it go, her visage coming inch by inch closer to his face," Whenever I came down there, I had this feeling when everything was so simple, y' know? I felt like I could do anything. Each visit was the most wonderful thing I did in such a long time. I just didn't need to think about anything else but helping you. I don't know how to explain it. It was like a warming haze in the morning, like a million butterflies in your stomach. I've never realized how cute you are. All I wanted was to see you happy just like you deserve. Have you ever felt it? This strong... need."

Luke recoiled like electrocuted. "Sally isn't coming," he shot out,

Tiffany's eyes fluttered like waking from a trance. She saw how tightly close she came to Luke's face and covered her mouth. She stared at Luke in shock as if trying to find answers.

"Kids, what are you talking about?" Mrs. Redwood was equally confused.

"Sally told me she wouldn't be coming tonight and that she is sorry. You don't need to waste time with us," Luke didn't even look them in the eyes.

Mrs. Redwood was barely hiding her embarrassment, "Luke, you don't talk like that."

"Don't worry, Mrs. Redwood," Tiffany's words fumbled out of her mouth. "I must leave."

Marion began to panic. "So soon? Please, can you at least bring some of the cake with you—" Mrs. Redwood pleaded.

"I-I am sorry, Mrs Redwood. I am not feeling well. I can't stay here any longer," Tiffany stuttered like her mind was focused on something else. Her composure was crumbling, and she rushed out as Marion continued imploring.

Marion was shocked to say the least and she focused on the probable source of this bewildering clusterfuck," Luke honey, you need to explain this to me."

"I'm sorry Mom. I fucked up."

"Honey, is something wrong? What happened to Sally?" Marion jumped to console her son.

"I don't know what I'm doing," Luke said.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"Thank you, thank you. Now we'll take short break. Keep yourself tuned in," reverberated through the crowd of the fair.

You have finally lost it, Tiff.

Tiffany Brzezinski rushed through the crowd, bumping unapologetically into a dozen people. She held her arms together as if trying to hide her shame.

You were seriously trying to kiss him back there. How pathetic can you be?

+

Luke left his mom. He ambled through the fair. He was frustrated. His each other step was accompanied by a jolt of a pain in his groin.

He rushed to the first bathroom he could find. He locked his stall and sat down. The walls were covered with every swear word, personal insult, and hearts of broken relationships. The floor was filled with cigarette buds, there was no toilet paper, but at least water looked clean.

As he sweated and panted, the familiar churning shame in his stomach returned. Back among the toilet stench, with the rumbling crowd outside of its walls; it was all too fitting, he thought.

Like in the old days, his traditional stimulus was conjured in his mind: Chelsea, the icy royalty whose cold radiance mere mortals didn't deserve.

"I thought you were disgusting when I caught you jerking off in the girls' showers, but wow, you really are a desperate little freak," Chelsea said full of contempt and enjoyment.

+

Small and contemplating, Tiffany stood like a dot among the crowd. The band on stage was getting ready for one last ballad.

Are you so damn nice that you'd fuck some dork? Just look at him; Chelsea is right. The guy can barely say a word without stuttering and he talks about some nerd bullshit you could care less about. But yeah, just act like you are totally buying into everything he says. And then you go in for a kiss. You are one loser bitch. You aren't good at anything: singing, dancing, drawing, getting over break ups.

Tiffany couldn't answer her own questions. She couldn't comprehend what had gotten into her mind back there, but except for beautiful tingle she had attempted to describe: like her being was becoming thousands of freed butterflies; a burning desire from her lips to her leaking cunt.

+

Luke stroked his cock, as his Chelsea hushed into his ear. He could almost feel the moisture of each her slight and slur.

"Aww, did I hurt your feelings back at the pool? Did your clit get hard then as well? You can't lie to me. I know you love this. You need to release that four-week-old cum. Yeah, that thing you call cock is only good for that. Do you really think any girl would like you with that thing?"

Luke didn't want to answer, but he kept going.

He imagined sweet wide-eyed Tiffany in her homely jacket and hazel braid sitting before him. Epitome of classy beauty, Tiffany rested her head on her hand as she scrutinized Luke's masturbation.

"Eww... Chelsea, you were right. He is such a creepy loser."

+

You live for everyone but yourself, Tiff. Burning yourself to keep others warm ain't worth a damn thing. They will never repay everything you do them. Only thing they care for is their sorry ass.

The crowd grew into an even more jumbled mess as the young girl whose leg could now barely support her insecurities was lost among them.

You have to stop with this. Stop this act. Who gives a shit? Fuck them, they don't deserve you! How deep should you fall down that you would fuck...a guy like Luke? Right, old gal?

+

He kept stroking; arousal kept heating up his body. The pain didn't bother him anymore. Chelsea's and Tiffany's voices vexed him like ancient furies.

"Chelsea, please tell me what did he do? Tell me everything."

"Hahaha, where do I start? One day after school, Tracy and I forgot something in the showers. Lo and behold, this little degenerate was jacking off there like an inbred monkey."

"And he was so small. His thing was barely reaching 3 inches. It was so funny seeing him work that thin, but it looked like he had nothing between his legs," Chelsea laughed.

"That's so gross. Don't let him touch me." Tiffany tucked herself in Chelsea's embrace.

"Shh, it's okay." Chelsea continued, fondling Tiffany, "He slobbered up the floor that I don't release the footage. I was fair. I wanted only $700. I let him go home, and you know what he did then? He just kept jerking off to the memory of me."

"That's why he always smells so bad," Tiffany shut her nose grimacing.

"He then dared to go to the pool party, and he brought less money than he was supposed to."

"Why did he bother to buy you off? Was he afraid his reputation would suffer?" Tiffany snickered

"Maybe. Maybe he thought we would find his wimpiness cute. Maybe he hoped he had a small chance of finding friends. In the end, he was so humiliated that night he knew that would never work. Not without a bit of cheating. He would give everything to change what he was. He would even read papa's letter beneath his bed. Just like a good brother, he would even throw his little sister under the bus."