Just Ask (6 page)

Natalie is just smiling, like the words didn't get to her at all. But maybe that's because she's a Christian and actually believes in heaven. For me it's like hearing about a great party that you're not invited to attend. And now I can't stop crying. Natalie hands me a tissue from her purse, and before long it's totally soaked with my tears.

It only gets worse when Chloe begins to speak. She admits that she wasn't a very good friend to Tiffany and that she felt guilty and depressed when she learned of her death. I find this difficult to believe since Chloe was always nice to Tiffany. And that was even after Tiffany had made Chloe totally miserable during a lot of our freshman year. But Chloe had forgiven her, and after Chloe's band started seeing success, Tiffany would usually act like they were best friends.

Anyway, I totally don't get why someone like Chloe should feel guilty. But suddenly she's up there, challenging us to be better friends to each other, since we never know how long we have together. And to my relief, a lot of people are crying now. I guess it's true that misery really does love company. But at least I don't feel so conspicuous now. Even Natalie is crying.

Even from back here I can see the two glistening streaks of tears running down Chloe's face as she tells us that Tiffany made a commitment to God not long before she died.

“And even though I know Tiffany is in heaven now,” Chloe says in that convincing way of hers, “and believe me, I have no doubts about that—I feel sad that I won't get to see our friendship grow down here on earth. It's like we'd been through all the hard stuff together, and it was just about to get good, but now she's gone.” Chloe pauses to take a breath. “And I am really going to miss her.”

Then Redemption sings a moving song that Chloe wrote especially for Tiffany. It's about seeing her later (in heaven), and it seems to be full of hope. Although to be honest, I'm not feeling terribly hopeful myself. But somehow the song does seem to make a lot of the other kids feel better.

But I am perfectly miserable, and all I want to do is get out of here before I actually have to talk to someone. Thankfully, Natalie seems to understand this. And I'm relieved that we can make a quick exit from the back.

“That was so cool,” Nat says as we get into the Jeep.

I turn around and stare at her. “Cool?”

“Yeah, the whole thing about Tiffany giving her heart to God. That was so awesome.”

I sigh and turn the key in the ignition. “Whatever,” I mumble.

Natalie talks some more as I drive toward home. She's going on about heaven and God, and it's all I can do not to pull over and just scream. But I control myself and manage to make it safely into our neighborhood.

“Earth to Kim,” I hear Natalie saying, and I realize
that I've actually blocked her conversation out entirely.

“Huh?” I say as I turn down our street.

“I was just asking if you're okay.”

Okay?”

“Yeah, you seemed kind of upset at the service. Are you doing okay?”

I nod and pull up in front of her house. “Yeah, I'm great.”

She frowns now. “No, you're not, Kim. Do you want to talk?”

I kind of shrug.

“What if I promise not to preach?” she says.

I give her my skeptical look.

“Seriously. I won't.”

“I don't know how to explain everything, Nat. I guess I've just got lots of questions running ‘round and ‘round in my brain. I'm not even sure where I'd begin.”

“How's the Buddhist thing working for you?” I can tell by the way she says this that she's assuming it's not—working, that is.

“It's okay,” I lie.

“Really?” She frowns, unconvinced.

“Okay, not really I'm actually feeling like a pretty crummy Buddhist, since I didn't exactly have loving thoughts toward Tiffany. I mean, before she died. And even at her funeral, I was so self-absorbed and worried about my own pathetic life. If I ever come back to earth, I'm sure it will be as an amoeba or a flea or mosquito or
something equally unspectacular and obnoxious.”

Natalie laughs, and suddenly I feel a little better. “Well, you don't have to figure it all out in a day, Kim.”

“I know.”

“And besides, it's only a matter of time.”

“Until what?” I ask.

She smiles in this knowing way “Until you realize that God loves you and has a great plan for your life.”

I roll my eyes at her. “You said you weren't going to preach, Nat.”

She shrugs. “Guess I blew it.”

I just shake my head, as if this is unbelievable. “And you call yourself a Christian?”

She smirks at me. “Hey, just because I'm a Christian doesn't mean I don't make mistakes. The good thing about God is that He takes us as we are. Unlike your Buddhist beliefs where you have to beat yourself up to be perfect, Jesus already took care of that by being beat up for us.”

“Yeah, yeah…” I use my this-is-so-boring tone of voice.

“Sorry, but I couldn't help myself.” She climbs out now. “I'll call you later.”

“More sermons?”

“Nah, I just need to borrow your lit notes.”

I nod. “Falling behind already?”

“No,” she says with appropriate indignation. “I just wanted to make sure I was on track.”

“No problem,” I tell her. Actually I'm thankful to have something to talk about that I'm sure won't result in an impromptu sermon. I just don't think I could handle one more today.

So, distracting myself from all the emotions that have been beating me up the last few days, I immerse myself in answering some more letters for the column. (Though not anything from the JUST FORGET IT box.) Instead I choose a couple of interesting letters that actually remind me of something I went through myself a couple years ago. All right, they're kind of shallow and superficial. But its a nice departure from all the heaviness that's been hanging around me lately And I need a good distraction. Okay, I'm the first one to admit that someday I hope to be perfectly comfortable within my own skin. I imagine that I'll look in the mirror and actually be pleased with the image I find there. But for now it's still a struggle. Although I've made some progress too. Even Natalie would agree with that.

But I still remember the time I wanted to get plastic surgery. It was back in middle school when I first started to obsess about the way my eyelids looked. They seemed so flat and boring to me, and they didn't work very well for eye makeup (which I thought I was ready to start wearing).

Anyway, I'd read about a surgical procedure where the doctor creates folds in the skin of an Asian eyelid to make it resemble a Caucasian eyelid. I actually began saving my allowance in hopes of getting this done.

Of course, when I mentioned my idea to my parents, they were completely appalled.

“Whatever for?” my mom asked with a seriously concerned expression. I wanted to tell her it was so I'd fit in with other kids better or so I could wear eye shadow like Natalie did without looking stupid. Of course, I kept these superficial thoughts to myself.

“I just want to,” I told her. Well, that was when my mom arranged for me to meet Sharon. Naturally my mom made it seem like it was just a coincidence at the time. Anyway, Sharon is this Korean woman who works at a real estate office where my mom does bookkeeping. And guess what? She is absolutely drop-dead gorgeous.

But Sharon told me that she hadn't always appreciated her Asian looks. “I had to grow into them.”

Somehow I got that. And I suppose Mom's plan worked, at least partially, because I began to imagine that I might someday grow into the kind of beauty that Sharon possessed. Although it's kind of funny to think
about now. I mean, Sharon is unusually tall (for an Asian), and she's willowy and graceful. But I am quite short (five foot two), and although I am slender (or so Natalie assures me), I am not willowy. And it doesn't look like I'll ever be tall either.

Now I used to want to be short. I remember being so devastated when I passed up five feet. That's because I was still in gymnastics back then, and I was totally obsessed with remaining tiny. I even played with anorexia for a short time, only allowing myself to eat green salad and Diet Pepsi for several weeks.

But after getting fairly sick and an embarrassing visit to my doctor, who was quite straightforward about the dangers of starving your body, I decided to let the “staying small” thing go. To say my parents were relieved is a huge understatement.

Anyway, as I read these girls’ letters, I realize that I cannot pretend that I have no appearance issues. I mean, not only is it totally false, it's also hypocritical. So I know I must answer this letter in the way that I would want to be answered.

Then I call Natalie (my local fashion and beauty expert) and ask her if she likes the way she looks. And just for the record, I think she is quite beautiful. I mean, her nose is probably a little too big for her face (or so she says), but I actually think it's quite striking, really It
gives her character. And I happen to think her blue eyes and long blond hair are totally stunning. Plus she's tall.

“What?” she says like maybe she didn't hear me right.

“How do you feel about your looks?” I say again.

“Why?”

“I just wondered.” I pause, feeling kind of dumb. “I mean, I guess I was having sort of an identity crisis just now, and I wondered how you're doing, like do you ever feel unattractive?”

She laughs. “Well, to be honest I have this zit that's trying to pop out on my chin, and my hair is really looking pretty drab and dreary today, and I won't even mention my nose. But really, Kim, I don't get why you're asking me this right now.”

“I guess its just kind of reassuring to know that I'm not the only one who freaks out over her looks.”

“Why are you freaking? You are beautiful, Kim. I mean, I would love to look like you. You're like the little Asian princess.”

“Oh, puleeze, don't even get started.” But the truth is, I actually kind of like it when she goes down this road.

“You are,” she assures me. “You have the most gorgeous skin imaginable. Your hair is thick and glossy and black. And you have NEVER had a bad hair day in your life. And your eyes are—”

“Okay, okay.” I stop her. As much as I like this, a girl can only take so much. Even so, I am reminded why Natalie is my best fiend, and I immediately forgive her for her sermon earlier. I mean, who could ask for
anyone more loyal than this? Of course, I know it's my turn to reciprocate now.

“Well, you know I think you're beautiful too. I can't even think how many times I would've happily traded appearances with you. It's too bad there's not some way to do that. You know like ‘Freaky Friday?”

She laughs. “Hey, I'd go for it. I could have a lot of fun walking around in your skin for a while.”

“So you say.”

“I could. Of course, I'd dress you a whole lot differently.”

“Yeah, I can just imagine. Do you think we'll ever like our own looks?”

“I hope so,” she says in this wistful voice. “And I actually believe God made me this way on purpose. So He must think I look okay In the meantime, I'd better put some Clearasil on this zit before it takes over my whole face.”

“Yeah, you could star in a sci-fi flick called The Face That Got Swallowed by the Pimple from Pluto.’”

She laughs. “Hey, I gotta go. It sounds like Micah and Krissy are having some huge fight, and my mom's still at the grocery store. I think she's really out getting a massage or pedicure or something.”

I feel bad for Nat as I hang up the phone. I know her life's not easy, and it's sweet how she takes the time to encourage me—especially when it comes to something as silly as my looks.

Then I pause to peer into the mirror to see if what
she just told me was really true. But all I see is a rather flat-looking face without much color, a nose that seems a little broad, and dark eyes that look as if they've been slit into my skin. Okay, I guess my hair is all right. And I should be thankful that my complexion is clear, but other than that, well, I'm just not so sure. But maybe Natalies right; maybe we look the way we do for a reason.

And maybe we should all stop complaining about our appearances so much. Okay, I'm running low on sympathy right now, because the next letter really bugs me. I mean, this girl is only fifteen, and she wants a boob job. Puleeze!