Confessions of an Ugly Girl (9 page)

(Then again, her husband is an asshole. But don’t tell her I said that.)

Sam’s ears turned a little red as he tried to play it down. “Well, I talk to my mother every week and she usually asks me if I’m dating someone before she even says hello. So… I told her about you.”

“Wow, that’s really sweet,” I said. He looked relieved. “What did you tell her about me?”

Sam grinned. “I told her that I’m dating an incredibly sexy girl with a horrible landlady.”

“Well, you told her one true thing, at least.”

“You’re right, Martha’s not that horrible,” he said, leaning forward as he teased me. When he was so close, I could smell his aftershave. I love that smell. It always turns me on like crazy. “So did you tell your parents about me?”

“Yes,” I lied. I was exaggerating earlier when I said that my mother was okay with my marrying any man that had a pulse. I’m pretty sure Mama Glockenfeld is not ready to hear about my quadriplegic boyfriend, but Sam doesn’t need to know about that.

The lie seemed to make him happy. He leaned forward and kissed me, right in front of the whole restaurant. He never seems to care who sees us together. “I want you to meet some of my friends,” he said. “I want to show you off.”

“All right,” I said.

“And I want to meet your friends too,” he said.

“You met Donna,” I said.

He rolled his eyes. “Your
other
friends.”

I mumbled something in agreement. I didn’t want to admit that most of the women I’d been friends with had gotten married in the last few years and I always felt like a third wheel when I hung out with them. Sam wouldn’t have understood that. I didn’t want to burst his bubble. For reasons that I can’t quite wrap my head around, he actually seems really proud to be dating me. He always treats me like I’m gorgeous and it doesn’t even bother me so much anymore because he honestly seems to believe it.

August 27:

Tonight Sam dragged me out to meet his friends, as promised. I was pretty nervous about it, even though it was just two of his buddies and their wives. It didn’t seem like Sam had a lot of female friends, which is good because I hate it when guys have tons of female friends. The two friends, Dave and Gordon, were pretty nerdy guys, which kind of solidified my impression that Sam is a big geek at heart. Also, they weren’t disabled, which was something I had been wondering about.

Meeting the friends is always scary for me because I feel like they’re judging me, thinking about how Sam could do better. Although to be honest, there weren’t many times when I got to the point in a relationship where I was asked to meet the friends. So this was kind of a big deal.

I was worried over nothing. Dave and Gordon were big dorks, and their wives, Annie and Michelle respectively, were very friendly. They welcomed me so eagerly that I thought back to what that waitress said about Sam getting his heart broken. It looked like his friends had been pretty worried about him.

In fact, it seemed like Annie and Michelle were going out of their way to sell me on Sam. After dinner, we went back to Gordon and Michelle’s apartment, and the guys were watching some sports game in the living room while we girls talked in the kitchen. It was amusingly stereotypical, but I didn’t really want to watch basketball. It was in the kitchen that Annie and Michelle started gushing about Sam.

“He is
such
a great guy!” Annie said. “He’s just so nice and considerate. I wish Dave were more like him.”

“It’s so true,” Michelle added. “I got stranded when my car broke down once and Gordon was out of town. I called Sam and he came to pick me up and waited with me for the tow truck to come. He’s just
so
nice.”

“And you don’t even notice the wheelchair after a while,” Annie put in. “It’s just like he’s like everyone else.”

I ate from the bowl of popcorn they made and took it all in. I’d encountered a lot of high-pressured salesmen before, but I’d never experienced salesmen as eager as these women. I like Sam, but clearly these women were going out of their way to make him look good. It then occurred to me that this might be a good way to get information.

“I heard he just had a rough break-up,” I said.

Annie and Michelle exchanged looks. “Holly was awful,” Annie said. “She was totally wrong for him. We all knew it from the start.”

“What was wrong with her?”

“She was just interested in having fun,” Michelle said. “She wasn’t looking for any long term commitment. That’s what Sam wanted and we all told him she wasn’t going to go for it.”

“He would have to be a complete idiot to get back together with her,” Annie added.

My stomach flipped. “She wants to get back together?”

“Oh.” Annie blushed. She stammered something unintelligible.

Michelle glared at Annie. “Whatever. Holly doesn’t know what she wants. She’s just toying with the poor guy. It’s awful.”

I felt uneasy for a while after that. No matter how much Sam denied he still had feelings for Holly, they had been a couple for a very long time. He has to still like her. He barely knows me.

Still, we changed the subject and I forgot about my worries. It was a great night. After it was over, Sam drove me back to his place and we watched television for a while, then he drove me home and now I’m writing this before I drop off to sleep. He offered to let me spend the night, but I’m not ready for him to see what I look like first thing in the morning. I feel like I need to stay one up on Holly.

SEPTEMBER

September 3:

Today I found out how nice it is to have a boyfriend who has
connections
.

We were eating out for lunch at our usual restaurant. I usually pull off my ID badge and stash it in my pocket before we go out, partially because I don’t want to feel like a five-year-old on a class trip with my name plastered on my chest, but also because my ID photo is just horrible. I may not be pretty, but that photo makes me look like someone that the townspeople would cower from in horror. Years from now, schoolchildren will study it as the worst ID photo in the history of the universe.

(Seriously, it’s bad.)

As soon as I realized my ID badge was hanging from my front pocket, I immediately ripped it off in what I hoped was a really inconspicuous movement. Unfortunately, it wasn’t.

“Why did you take your ID badge off?” Sam asked.

I mumbled some excuse, hoping he’d let it go, but he didn’t. He bugged me until I admitted how much I hated the photo, at which point he of course insisted on seeing it. I was shocked he’d never seen it before, considering the first thing I did when I heard his name was to look his photo up in the computer. Obviously, he’s less of a stalker than I am.

“Here, you can see mine,” he said. He was still wearing his badge on his chest. Obviously, he’s nowhere near as introspective about ID badges as I am

“Yeah, but you look adorable in your photo,” I grumbled. Sam is good-looking but he’s also really photogenic. It’s hard not to be jealous.

“Well, sorry,” he said with a smile.

“You really don’t need to see it.”

“I definitely do,” he said. “And you may as well show it to me, because you know the first thing I’ll do when I get back to work is look it up in the computer and then it will be gigantic and filling the entire screen.”

He had a point. I dug out my ID badge from my pocket and handed it to him. He looked at it and shrugged. “What’s wrong? You look fine. Cute as a button.”

I stared at him. I really had to question his judgment if he thought I looked “cute as a button” in that photo. That photo was objectively horrible. I was beginning to wonder how awful-looking his ex-girlfriend Holly must have been if someone like me seemed so attractive to him. Did she weigh 2000 pounds and was confined to bed, only able to wash herself with a rag on a stick? Because that’s the only thing I can think of that would be less attractive than my ID photo.

“Look, I can tell you hate it,” he said. “So why don’t we go change it?”

“What?”

He shrugged. “I’ve got some friends in security. I’m sure they’d take a new photo for you and make you up a new badge. It’s not a big deal—this isn’t the CIA or something.”

“You can do that?” I was incredulous.

“For you, babe? Anything is possible.”

Sure enough, right after lunch, he took me to the security office. The guy who worked down there was named Paul and it seemed like he and Sam were on a first name basis. Sam explained the situation to a slightly snickering Paul, who was luckily pretty bored and willing to comply. The whole thing was mildly embarrassing, but completely worth it to get rid of that awful ID photo.

“You’re lucky your boyfriend has connections, honey,” Paul said to me.

Sam has connections. There’s something very cool and sexy about that.

What followed was somewhat short of a
Vogue
fashion shoot, but Sam seemed to be amusing himself by hooting at me and recommending seductive poses. Luckily, Paul was very good-natured about the whole thing. Eventually, we came up with five PG-rated photos that Paul brought up on the computer to let me choose from. I asked Sam which one he liked best.

“They all look good.” Typical Sam.

I finally selected one and Paul printed out a new ID badge for me. I was so happy, I could’ve died. “You’re awesome,” I said to Sam.

“Am I?” he grinned proudly. “I like the sound of that. Maybe I could have that printed on my ID badge. Sam Webber, Information Technology, Awesome. What do you think, Paul?”

“I think you two had too much to drink during lunch,” Paul said.

Sam pulled me into his lap right in front of his friend and kissed me. He’s so affectionate with me. I wish I were better at being affectionate back in public. I want to be the kind of girlfriend he wants me to be, because that’s what he deserves. But at least I’m not confined to bed and washing myself with a rag on a stick

September 9:

I’m exhausted and don’t have time to write much, but I just want to say that I showed up to work this morning to find that Sam bought me a box of chocolates and a single rose. If he does one more sweet, romantic thing for me, I’m going to start bawling.

There’s a study that suggests that men know when they’re falling for someone as soon as three dates in. Women take longer, reporting the same feelings around date 14. Sam and I have been on at least 14 dates… more if you count all the lunches.

So yes, I think I’ve officially fallen in love with Sam Webber. I haven’t said it to him yet, but I have a feeling it’s coming.

I’ve never told a guy “I love you” before. There’s something a little scary about it. I’ve thought it before, but only fleetingly, and it never got to the point where I felt a need to say it. I really want to say it to Sam though. I know it’s too soon, but I feel like I’m going to burst.

September 14:

Use #249 for Computer Geek Boyfriend: when your computer crashes on a Sunday morning, you don’t have to have a heart attack.

I was downloading this crossword puzzle game and all of a sudden, my computer was really unhappy. It was opening all these windows, probably publishing all my credit card information and my bra size to that big board in Times Square, and I almost burst into tears. I guessed I had accidentally downloaded some virus.

I attempted to delete the program, but the damage was done. I was freaking out for a good half hour before I decided to call Sam. “My computer went berserk,” I told him.

“Hieroglyphics?” Sam asked.

“No, I think I downloaded a virus.”

“Nice job, Millie,” he laughed. I didn’t think it was funny. “Please let it be a laptop?” The whole problem of him not being able to get into my apartment was really inconvenient.

“It’s a laptop,” I confirmed.

“Great. Bring it over.”

I packed up my poor laptop computer and drove over to Sam’s apartment. He was wearing boxers and a T-shirt and by the look of his hair, he hadn’t been awake very long. I felt a little bad for bothering him, but he was all business. Within a minute of my arrival, he was pecking away at the keyboard and clucking his tongue. “God, Millie, this is nasty. What were you doing? Downloading naked photos of Brad Pitt?”

I snorted. “Brad Pitt is in his fifties by now. Get with the times.”

“Geez, sorry. Was it Justin Bieber then?”

I rolled my eyes. “So can you fix it?”

He nodded and I breathed a sigh of relief. “But it’s going to be a while, so make yourself comfortable.”

First I went to the bathroom. There are times when I really do forget Sam is disabled, but it’s hard to forget when I’m in his bathroom. That bathroom really looks like it was made for a guy in a wheelchair. There are like fifty grab bars and the sink is so low that I get back pain every time I use it. But I love being in there, because it smells like Sam’s aftershave. You know you’re into a guy when just the smell of him turns you on.

After I relieved myself, I went back in the living room and amused myself by perusing his bookcase. All his books were boring. There was Boring Computer Book A and Boring Computer Book B. Sam told me he had majored in computer science, then got a Master’s in it, so that was really all he studied. There were only a handful of books that weren’t about computers and those were all math books. Then I hit one corner of large unlabeled books. “What are these?” I wondered aloud.

“Photo albums,” Sam replied, not taking his eyes off my computer screen. “My mom dumped some extra ones here about a year ago. If you’re looking for photos of me in a diaper, I’m sure you won’t be disappointed.”

That I had to see. I pulled out the oldest of the books and sure enough, there was little Sam. He was about five or six years old in these pictures, but still totally recognizable as himself. “Oh my God, you were so cute!”

“I know, what happened, right?”

I pointed to one of the photos of little Sam kicking a soccer ball. “You played pee wee soccer?”

Sam glanced over. All of a sudden, a sad look came over his face.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Nothing.” He shook his head. “It’s just kind of weird to see photos of myself back when I could still walk. It’s… stupid. Never mind. Keep looking at the pictures.”

My heart ached a little bit for Sam. He never seemed sad or bothered by being in a wheelchair. This was the first time I had seen him react like this. I put away the album and picked out one that looked much newer. Sure enough, the photos seemed like they were maybe a year or two old. Sam looked the same as he did now and was in his wheelchair for all the photos.

“God, you’re really photogenic,” I commented.

“Thanks.”

I picked out his friends Dave and Gordon in some of the pictures. Apparently, there’d been some sort of ski trip. I wouldn’t have guessed that Sam could go skiing, but there were several pictures of him strapped into a chair on top of what appeared to be a single ski. It looked like he was having a really good time.

I flipped a few more pages and came across a photo of Sam with his arm around a very attractive girl. Attractive is probably an understatement. She seemed too petite to be a model, but she could’ve easily been an actress. She had blonde hair that was always pulled back into a stylishly messy updo, big blue eyes, and all these sexy curves.

I turned the page and there were more photos of him with that girl. I had a bad feeling I knew who this was.

“Is this Holly?” I asked.

He looked up and saw the photo I was pointing to. “Yeah, that’s her. Sorry, she put that album together after we all went on a ski trip in Colorado.”

I stared at the photo. I felt sick. Holly was
gorgeous
. She didn’t weigh 2000 pounds or have a hump on her back. I had been going under the assumption that Holly was fairly unattractive or at least average-looking. How the hell was he able to get a girl who looked like
that
? And how could he possibly settle for someone like me after dating someone like her? How could he even
look
at someone like me after someone like her?

But all I said was, “Holly’s really pretty.”

He shrugged. “I guess she’s attractive.”

I knew I wasn’t going to be able to keep from saying what I was thinking. “Sam, how could you date a woman who looks like her and then date…”

He looked up from the computer screen, his brow furrowed. “What?”

“I mean, she’s… and I’m…”

“Come on, Millie,” he said. “You’re just as pretty as she is. You really don’t think so?”

Not only did I not think so, but anybody in their right mind wouldn’t think so. Believe me, I don’t have some crazy body dysmorphic disorder or something. I’m ugly. I’ve been rejected by enough guys that I can form a realistic opinion of myself. Also, I have eyes and mirrors. “No, I don’t,” I said.

“You need to have more confidence,” Sam said. “I mean, shit, look at
me
. That ought to give you a little confidence.”

I looked at the photo album again and felt like crying. I felt like this relationship was never going to last, not if Sam could get a girl who looked like Holly. And now apparently Holly wanted him
back
. How could he say no?

Sam sighed. “Do you want me to fix your computer or do you want me to comfort you?”

“Comfort.”

He held out his arms to me. “C’mere, you.”

I sat down on his lap and we kissed. We still have amazing kisses and I’m pretty sure it’s some awesome kissing skill he has. Anyway, I’m not complaining.

“Do you want to go to the bedroom?” he whispered in my ear.

“Do you have condoms?”

He shook his head. “Not that. I want to go down on you.”

I swear, I almost giggled. He said it so matter-of-factly. It was just… amusing, I guess. Amusing and hot. I consented and he wheeled me into the bedroom on his lap, struggling a little bit because of my weight. I felt bad about that. I doubt he ever had that problem with Holly, who didn’t seem to have an ounce of body fat.

(It really wasn’t helping that I kept thinking about Holly.)

I took off my panties to help him out and he stayed in his wheelchair while I lay on the bed. I felt his hands sliding up the inside of my thighs and I tried my best to relax.

Apparently, 48% of women say that they have faked an orgasm at some point in their lives. And 52% of women are dirty liars. Luckily, I didn’t have to be a dirty liar today. Based on my meager experience, I have to say that Sam must be the best person at oral sex in the entire universe.