Chapter Eight

I’m Fat and Ugly

My euphoria faded by the next morning. On the train to the northern coast of France, the events of Montpellier settled back over me like a cold, damp blanket. Aware of my mood, Jade took my hand and held it as we rolled along.

Jade could tell you what the north of France looked like because she kept her eyes focused out the window. She counted the number of French towns we passed and later could remember most of the names. If I had looked, I would have noticed different things: the wind through the trees and whether the people I saw in the stations seemed happy or sad. But I didn’t look. I kept my eyes closed most of the time and fingered the napkin that Geneviève had given me with her address and her friend’s phone number.

Away from her persuasive charm, my doubts came back. Why is she even interested in me? We are so different. If she only knew how immature I really am, how stupid I was in Montpellier, she would not be so interested.

When our train stopped, not far from the shoreline, we disembarked and waited for the ferry. “They’re going to build a tunnel under the Channel,” Jade informed me. “The undersea portion will be twenty-three and a half miles long. I read about it in Newsweek.”

That would be like a really long subway ride. You’d have that eerie feeling of being in no-man’s land, of being neither in one place nor the other, like on a long bridge. My life is sort of like that right now.

On the boat, Jade ran around like a little kid, dragging me with her until I finally begged off and grabbed a seat near the snack bar. I was feeling a little bit queasy, so I bought a bottle of English fizzy water. Everything on the boat was either French or English. The man behind the bar was definitely French, dark and somber. The stewards were British, with their roses-and-cream skin and jaunty smiles. British voices pierced through the low murmur of French conversation like birdsong.

I watched the coast of France shrink into the churning water as I said good-bye to a land that was intriguing but a little dangerous for me, just like the attraction I felt for Geneviève.

When the shore disappeared, I turned around to look through the front windows of the boat toward England. Soon, we would be meeting my old friend Natalie there. She was a planner and I knew our travels would be relatively predictable and comfortable while she was around. Jade and I wouldn’t have to decide what to do all the time; we’d be able to tag along after Natalie. That was good. I needed the rest. I needed to heal my raw emotions and this would be a good way to do it.

I sighed and slumped down in my seat. I was glad that after England and Scotland I would be returning across the Channel because I knew that France was where I needed to be. England is a temporary safe haven. But after that, even if things don’t work out in the long run with Geneviève, I think she is the kind of danger I need in my life right now.

aaAA

“Is anyone sitting here?” a young man said with an English accent.

I scooted over. “No.” I turned my attention back to The Second Sex, by Simone de Beauvoir. He pushed his blond hair out of his eyes and smiled. “Thanks.” He slipped his bulky backpack off his slim shoulders and let it hit the deck.

“You know you can check your backpack, right?”

“Good to know. Ben,” he said, sticking his hand out.

“Sophie,” I said, hesitantly, remembering what happened the last time I met a strange man. And yet, as I looked into Ben’s fair-skinned, open face, I knew I could trust him and could trust my instincts about the people I met. Whether they were male or female really didn’t matter. With that thought, I left my depression of the morning behind.

We stashed his backpack and toured the ship, ending up on the upper deck watching the boat’s wake. As the wind whipped my hair back, I realized that my stomach felt better now. A few minutes later, we saw Jade laughing heartily, surrounded by what looked like a family of English boys, four different ages, the oldest one with his arm around her. He seemed about seventeen. Jade looked ecstatic.

“There’s my friend over there,” I exclaimed, and we went over and joined the giddy group.

“Hi!” said Jade. “This is Colin. He and his brothers were just telling me about their vacation in France. These boys got into a serious amount of trouble over there. Their parents are mad at them, so they’re hiding up here.”

“Yeah, the parents can’t stand the stiff air up top,” said the boy who was cuddling Jade. “They’re down below smoking and making plans to kill us when we get home.”

“What did you do?”

“Nothing much, really,” said the smallest one. “Just a lot of little things. Like last night in the restaurant in Paris, I petted the lady’s dog at the next table. She said I could. She said I was adorable. That’s French, you know.”

“But then he knocked over her wineglass and it spilled all over the lady’s dress. It was a white dress, too!” The boys howled again with laughter.

Finally, we all stood at the prow and watched as the car ferry approached land. The pale cliffs of Dover got bigger then disappeared as the boat slid into port at Folkestone. The boys’ parents found them and took them off. Ben stayed with Jade and me. He was only going as far as Canterbury, where he lived.

No one bothered about our passports and we waited around in the drizzle for the train, eating sandwiches and drinking paper cups of tea full of milk and sugar. Then we shared a compartment on the train headed toward London until Ben had to get off.

“Too bad we finally meet some nice guys and they have to leave,” Jade said gloomily.

That boy on the boat was just a kid. “Well, it’s a transitory life we’re leading, what do you expect?” I said, in a world-weary voice.

“Yeah.” She stared moodily out the window. It was rare that her enthusiasm waned like that but I knew her good humor would likely bounce back soon.

We grabbed some Wimpy burgers in a corner of Victoria Station, where announcements for trains echoed amid the babble of passengers’ voices.

“Natalie made the arrangements,” I said, “so naturally we’re staying in a hotel, not a hostel. It’s nice to have someone else do the planning for once. I hope it’s not too expensive. I’m not rich like some people.”

“Well, it’s only for one night, right?”

“Or two, I can’t remember. Then we’re going to help her move to Coventry where she’ll be going to school. If you want to see more of London, remember we’ll be back after Scotland to meet my dad. He’ll probably get a double room for us to share. I hope you don’t mind. We can change in the bathroom. He really can’t afford to put us in our own room.”

“That’s okay. I’m glad we’re staying in a real hotel tonight. It feels more grown-up than a hostel,” she said.

“I guess if I run out of money I can always ask my dad for some,” I said.

“I’m sure if you really need it, your dad will help you out,” said Jade. “My parents said they’d wire me some money if I need it.”

“Come on,” I said as we shouldered our backpacks. “Let’s go find the tube.”

We walked on London streets with unbroken rows of brick and stone houses, iron fences, and tiny gardens. The Concorde Hotel was in one of these rows on Great Cumberland, near Hyde Park. We registered in a small reception area carpeted in red shag. The receptionist was a young Indian woman with very white teeth. It was about 6:00 p.m. and Natalie hadn’t arrived yet, but we had two single rooms next door to each other reserved in her name.

“You don’t mind sharing a double bed, do you, Jade?”

“No, I don’t mind.”

The room overlooked the street and felt like the height of luxury after our travels, with a bathroom and a real bed, not a thin hostel mattress.

“Look, there are clean towels!” I cried. “I feel like throwing away my old one and stealing one of these.”

“Oh, Sophie.”

“Don’t worry, I’m kidding.”

“I’m going to take a bath,” said Jade. She sounded tired. Jade never got tired. I heard water running and an occasional splash. Being considerate, she didn’t take too long and then it was my turn. I prayed there was not some problem with hot water in England or maybe just in this economy hotel. But it was fine and, as I sank into the hot water, I felt grateful to Natalie for getting us this temporary refuge. When I came out of the bathroom, clad in my light travel robe, Jade was in bed, under the covers, her face covered too.

“Jade, are you asleep?” She grunted and turned toward me. “Have you been crying?” I could tell she had unless she’d suddenly developed a cold. I sat on the bed, which creaked. “What?” I put my hand on her shoulder. No answer. “Jade, come on. Move over. Don’t hog the bed,” I said, trying to make her smile. I got in and wondered what to do to help her. I am not very good at this sort of thing, especially if someone won’t tell me what’s wrong. For me, comfort equals being held or touched. I know it’s not the same for everyone, but I put my arms around Jade and snuggled up to her. She didn’t seem to mind; I felt her shoulders shaking silently.

I tried again, my mouth close to her ear. “Is it because of the boy on the boat?”

No answer for a while. Then she said, “I was so happy on the boat. Just for a little while, I believed someone could actually find me attractive and even love me.”

“Jade!”

“I’ve never been in love. I’ve never even had sex. I’m a virgin. I’m fat and ugly, and you don’t know what it’s like because you’re so attractive.”

“Me? The French guys who tried to pick us up in Paris were always looking at you, too, not just me. And what about in the club, all the women wanted to dance with you, plus there was the boy on the boat.”

“I know. I don’t really count the women, though. And Colin just made everything worse because he was so nice and then he had to go. I’m glad it happened, but it kind of got to me.”

“Well, you’re not fat or ugly,” I said, running my hand over her glossy hair.

“Do you find me attractive?” she asked.

As soon as she said that I started feeling confused. What was going on? Jade was my best friend. But I was lying in bed holding her, something I had never done before, and it felt very strange. “Sure, I do,” I said carefully. “But I don’t have those kinds of feelings for you.” Jade turned over to face me, breaking into a sly smile. Her robe was undone and I could see more than I wanted to at the moment. Then she kissed me on the mouth. Hardly knowing what was happening, I kissed her back. I had never kissed a girl before! Her lips were soft, her face smooth. Then I pulled away. I got off the bed and strode across the room.

“This is not being very mature,” I said, clutching my robe around me and looking out the window. “I thought you said you were straight.”

“I am. I just wanted to see what it would feel like. Don’t be mad.”

“You had a new experience. Are you happy now?”

“Sorry,” she said in a small voice.

I walked back toward the bed and saw her dark, contrite eyes. Was there a hint of a guilty smile, like a child who’d gotten away with something? I laughed. “Don’t be,” I said. “I finally got to kiss a girl.”

“Me, too,” she said. “It’s different than kissing a boy, less prickly. And I didn’t realize how much tougher a boy’s lips are.”

“Okay. Just remember you’re not gay. Or even bi, according to you.”

“I read in Ms. magazine that everyone is bisexual to some degree.”

“I’m sure that’s true.” I grabbed some clothes from my backpack. “You know, Jade, you’re really nice looking. Too bad you don’t know that.”

“No, I do really. I was just having a crisis. I’ll be okay.”

I went into the bathroom and dressed. I added a sweater then grabbed the key. “I think I’ll go for a walk by myself. You planning on going anywhere?” She shook her head. “Good, because we have only one key and I’m locking you in. You’re dangerous.”

As I walked briskly down the street I realized I was full of nervous energy. I love Jade, but sometimes she drives me crazy. It feels good to get away by myself. I’m going to do it at least once a day from now on. After a couple of blocks, I found myself crossing the busy street over to Hyde Park. The sun was getting lower, casting shadows on the lawn. As I strode through the wide-open space along the path, I tingled at the memory of those lips touching mine, only it wasn’t Jade’s lips I was thinking of. Just for a moment, I imagined they belonged to Geneviève.

People were sitting around the fountain and I joined a young mother with an old-fashioned baby buggy. Her eyes looked a bit puffy and her yellow cardigan was buttoned crookedly. We exchanged a friendly glance and I saw that the baby must be very young, bundled as it was, sleeping. The wind shifted and a fine spray reached our faces.

I sat there contentedly, holding the memory of Geneviève close to me. The sun slipped behind the trees, turning everything into one big shadow. When it began to get darker, I got up and headed back. Rounding the corner to our hotel, I saw headlights glowing down the street. A taxi was parked in front of the hotel, and sure enough, that was Natalie getting out! Natalie, my old friend. One by one she and the driver pulled six pieces of luggage—I counted them—out of the back seat and trunk until finally, a backpack toppled onto the sidewalk. “Natalie!” I screamed.