To: condorboy
Date: Tuesday, December 13—10:52 PM
Subject: awesome stuff vs. pretty girls
Connor,
Some things to add to your list of awesomeness:
• The smell of fresh-stretched canvas
• Miranda July. Every single thing she does.
• Hedwig and the Angry Inch. The movie and the soundtrack.
• When it’s hot and you turn your pillow over and it’s nice and cool on your face
In other news, I want to tell you a story about this girl at my school. I’ve told you about the Two Aris; now meet Erin. She’s in eighth grade and she’s beautiful. Like really, really beautiful. Like supernaturally, supermodel beautiful. Like if you saw her walking down the street, you’d probably trip over yourself kind of beautiful. Like I know who she is even though she’s an eighth grader and I’m a senior kind of beautiful. But she hates herself. It’s obvious. She’s probably at least 5’ 9”, but she stoops so low she’s practically my height. She’s new this year, so she doesn’t have any friends, and she’s really shy and afraid to talk to people, and she never looks you in the eye. All I can think is that something bad must have happened to her, you know? And it would have had to be pretty horrible if it could trick her into thinking she’s so small and not worth looking at.
And of course the boys love her. They’re always talking to her and trying to make her smile, and some of them are even kind of sweet about it. But there’s this one guy in particular who’s braver than the rest, who actually asks her out. And the rest of the guys kick themselves for not trying that, because she actually says yes, and this guy is a real loser. Like carries around a skateboard but can’t even skate kind of loser. And he’s a junior, which is just creepy. (Yeah, yeah, I can smell what you’re thinking. Trevor and me, whatever. I’m eighteen so it’s legal now, by the way.)
So they go out, and no one really knows what happens, but the rumor starts going around that they slept together, and of course she’s in eighth grade so everyone’s like “Whoa,” and Loser Guy of course isn’t denying it. But no one asks Erin what happened. No one even talks to her except a couple of guys who think this means it’s a good time to ask her out. And you can just see her shrinking into herself. You can see her disappearing until she’s barely even there.
Maybe a week of this goes by, and Loser Guy thinks he’s real hot shit. Then all of a sudden Erin shows up at school one day and everything’s different. Her hair is gone, for one thing. She used to have this gorgeous long, straight, silky hair, but now she’s bald. Like completely bald. Not some cute pixie cut, but absolutely no hair. And she’s not wearing any makeup or jewelry. She used to dress really cute, like out of a magazine cute, but now she’s in bad-fitting jeans and a ratty sweater. But it’s more than that. Something has changed in her eyes, like she’s not just sad now, she’s angry. She’s furious. And it’s like she’s somehow punishing everyone by taking away her beauty. Like we don’t deserve it anymore. We abused it and took it for granted, and now this is what we’re left with.
What does this have to do with Isabel? you may ask. Well, I’ll tell you. It’s about beauty and not-beauty, about being wanted and being ignored. It’s about how every guy on earth, even the ones who claim to be “evolved,” all know to prey on the pretty girl with low self-esteem. It’s like an instinct. They don’t even think about it. They just see a girl with a nice ass and sad eyes and they know she’s the right conquest, the best effort-to-prize ratio. Not too hard to get, and the returns are wonderful. And she probably won’t complain when you treat her like shit, which you inevitably will, and she’ll keep saying yes even though deep down she wants to say no. Until she can’t take it anymore. Until she breaks. Until she finds some way to get revenge, even if it means destroying herself.
Even though I’m loud and obnoxious, the smart guys know I’m really one of these girls on the inside. Trevor knows. He saw through my fake confidence and could tell it was just an act, a cover-up for how shitty I really feel. He knows he can fuck his way across the East Coast and I’ll still be here waiting for him when he gets back. And maybe I’ll try to ask questions, but he’ll tell me to shut up, and I will.
I admire Erin. She’s in pain and she’s miserable and probably even lonelier than me, but at least she did something. She took herself back. Even if it meant destroying part of herself, at least she was the one in control.
Trevor finally texted me last night. He’s coming to Seattle in three weeks and wants me to keep him company. And of course I said I will.
Love,
Isabel