Only when I hear the distant slam of a heavy door do I realize that my shoulders are shaking and I’m sobbing.
"Hey." The woman’s now gentle voice reaches my ears before she moves to stand in front of me. "It’s okay. He’ll calm down again. Don’t worry."
Blinking a few times, I force myself to look at her. She’s slightly taller than me and probably older, too. Her face is delicate, pretty as a picture, and framed by long lilac hair.
"I’m Jules." Smiling, she wipes the tears from my cheeks with her thumb.
"Your hair is purple," I say incoherently between two sobs.
"It is. You like it?"
"Yes. It looks beautiful."
She takes the cup from me, sets it on the kitchen counter, and hands me a tissue. "For now, we’re going to forget what a jerk Cole can be and take care of you, okay?"
Nodding, I take the tissue and blow my nose.
"Do you live here, too?" I ask afterward, hoping she would be here in case Cole gets angry again.
Jules shakes her head and turns away to pick up a large duffel bag that was lying on the floor by the stairs. "No. I moved out a few weeks ago. The room back there used to be mine." She points toward the closed door next to the lockers.
I watch her carry the bag to the couch and open it to rummage around in it like she’s looking for something. "And you still have a key?"
"Yeah. Just like Cole has one to my apartment." Her tone suggests that it’s totally normal for her, but to me, it’s completely foreign. I didn’t even have a key to my own home.
When she looks at me and sees my astonishment, she stops her search. "I heard what you said from the stairs… So you were only ever with your mom and never allowed out?" Her words sound gentle and very different from Cole’s. While he, too, seemed puzzled, there was a constant hint of anger in his voice.
I answer with a nod, and Jules exhales loudly. Then she comes to me and puts her hands on my shoulders. "Can I give you a hug? I feel like you need one."
A big lump forms in my throat and prevents me from answering with words, so I just nod again.
Jules puts her arms around me and presses me against her. I freeze for a moment, but then I relax and return her embrace. It feels nice, and I involuntarily wonder what it would be like to be hugged by Cole.
I can’t tell how long we stand like that, but when Jules lets go of me again, I feel much better and can even return her smile.
"Well, let’s see if we have something for you here," she says and turns toward the bag once again. "Do you have a favorite color?"
"I don’t know," I answer truthfully and go to stand beside her. "Maybe green?"
She examines me with narrowed eyes. "No. Green’s not your color." Then she rummages around in the bag again. "I did pack it, didn’t I?" she mutters to herself, until she pulls out a sweater. "There it is!"
I look at the dark-blue fabric and shrug because I’m not quite sure what she expects from me.
"And these ones to go with it." With her other hand, she holds up what looks like tights without feet. "I do have underwear, too. They’re new, of course, so…"
"Okay." I take the things from her.
"Come. I’ll show you the bathroom so you can change and freshen up." With these words, she takes my hand and leads me to the door Cole came out of earlier. Behind it is a bathroom with a tub, a shower, a vanity, and a toilet. The room has no window, but the brick walls here have been painted white, so it still looks bright and friendly. Jules hands me a new toothbrush and a fresh towel, then leaves me alone.
After using the toilet, brushing my teeth, and washing my face, I take off my clothes and look at the small pile of things Jules put together for me. The underwear is black, but plain. Still, my mother’s words immediately come to my mind.Only women who want to sin wear black underwear. I don’t know if that’s really true. Nevertheless, I put on the panties and bra and stand in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror, which is in the corner of the room, to look at myself.
The dark fabric is soft and stands out against my skin starkly, but I can’t see anything sinful about it. Turning, I look at myself from all angles and run my fingertips over the cups of the bra, which are much sturdier and firmer than I’m used to. They almost push my breasts up and make them look plump and inviting.
I like myself in the black underwear.
After putting on the strange, footless tights and the sweater, I fold my old clothes and take them outside where Jules sits on the couch, waiting for me.
She jumps up when she sees me and comes toward me with a smile on her face. "So? How do you feel?"
