Page 54 of Eye of the Hurricane
“Go away,” I grumble.
“Oh, party girl is grumpy now, huh? Where’s my girl who dances on table tops?” he asks. My heart sinks to my toes and I shoot up, wide-eyed.
“I didn’t!” I shriek, covering my eyes. He laughs.
“You didn’t. But only because I carried you to bed. You were definitely on your way to climbing up there.”God damn martinis. My arch nemesis.
“Thank God,” I huff. I look down and I’m dressed head to toe in Ares’ clothes. I also at some point lost my bra? Oh god, and he’s in just his boxers. The sinking feeling is back with a vengeance. Pure and absolute dread fills me.We had sex.
“Oh my god—we—” he cuts me off quickly.
“We didn’t. I took off your makeup and asked what you wanted to wear to bed. You told me you wanted to wear my clothes. So, I helped you undress. No funny business, I promise.” The realization sets in that he’s looking at me right now with no make up and his lounge clothes on. I internally cringe at how I must look.
“I need to get dressed. I hate being seen like this,” I tell him, shooing him from the tent. He doesn’t budge though.
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, come on. You know it’s not a coincidence that you never catch me without a dress on. The heels? The make up? You’ve noticed.” He stares at me like I’ve suddenly grown a second head. “There’s just a certain image I like to uphold,” I admit quietly.
Ares and I linger in the silence with my confession. But where confusion once filled his eyes, there’s now a softer, sympathetic look. One that lets me know exactly what he’s going to say.
“Let me guess, you want to know why I feel like I need to be perfect all the time?” I snap.
“No,” he shakes his head. “I want to know why you think this isn’t perfect.” The world stops when he says it. My heart stops.Everythingstops.
It feels like I’ve been stripped bare in front of everyone, despite it being just us in the tent. It’s the kindest thing anyone has ever said to me. So why is fear settling deep in my chest, making itself at home? I feel like a deer in headlights.
“Youdoknow you don’t have to dress up to be perfect, right? You’re just as perfect like this as you are in matching heels and dresses.”
“I don’t know,” I say under my breath. I don’t know that and I don’t know what to say.
“You don’t know what? Talk to me, honey.” He asks, his hand reaching for mine slowly. As if he’s scared I’ll fall to pieces if he moves too quickly. Just when I thought this morning couldn’t get any more embarrassing, my lip wobbles and I burst into tears. His eyebrows shoot up and he quickly drops to his knees on the ground next to the mattress.
“God, this is so fucking embarrassing,” I spit out, tears still flooding my vision.
“What’s wrong, Kat? I thought I was complimenting you. I didn’t mean to upset you,” he explains.
I know. Nothing he’s telling me is something I didn’t know. Ares means well, he always means well.
What I don’t know is how to explain to him that I’ll carry the things my mother has said to me with me for life. I don’t know how to explain that she’s made me feel like I have to step into this perfect public persona to be liked. I don’t know how to explain that I feel so distant from that persona that I feel like I have to scheme and trick people into liking me. That right now, with my makeup off and in sweatpants, I feel like my jig is up.
“I just don’t feel good, it’s making me sensitive.” It’s half true. I do feel especially sensitive because of my hangover. I just leave out the part about my mom and all of those side effects.
“Let’s get you up and dressed then, yeah?” he asks, wiping my tears with his thumbs. He stands up and holds an arm out for me to stand with him.
As soon as I’m on my feet, the world in spinning. My heart is pounding in my ears. I’m going to throw up.
“I need out,” I tell him. He steps out of my way and I dartpast him. I rush away from the campsite and into the wooded area. As soon as I’m out of eyesight, I let it loose.
I’ve never been hungover. I’ve never even been drunk enough to get me sick. This is absolute hell. I have no idea how I’m going to last another full day before everyone leaves tonight.
I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and walk back. Ares is waiting by the tent for me with a bottle of water and a wet napkin in hand. I take the napkin and wipe my face before chugging the water.
“I feel so miserable,” I whine. He pushes my hair out of my face and hands me an ibuprofen.
“I’ll take you home.”
“Everyone is leaving tonight, anyways. I don’t want you or Luna to have to miss out. I can just lay in the tent until we go,” I assure him. Ares refuses to take my suffering in silence as an answer, though. He walks back over to the group.
