And what about my triggers? I'm bound to have a panic attack. Misgivings surge into earnest dread, and I start to think I've made a horrible mistake agreeing to this trip.
"Try on one of the bikinis I brought in. You'll look fantastic. Why cover up when you look like that-"
"Why cover up?"I hiss. My eyes sting with the threat of tears and my pulse races.
No. I'm not having a panic attack. Not here. Not in a fucking dressing room.
I close my eyes.Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven....
I concentrate on taking long, even breaths and quickly start to calm. No, I won't panic, but that doesn't mean I'm not upset.
"Why cover up?!"I cry again. My tears start to fall, and idly I realize my reaction is over the top, but I'mupset.
I'm vaguely aware of Carl's worried look as I tear at the swimsuit I'm wearing and yank it down until I'm standing completely naked except for my low-rise panties.
"This is why!" I squeal, gesturing to my scar - a full, grotesque inch of jagged, raised, pink scar tissue visible each above and below my panty line. I continue to cry as Carl jumps up from the bench and steps toward me.
"Oh my God, Rory. What happened?" she asks, bright green eyes wide and worried.
I reach up to swipe at my tears. I don't answer her.
"It's okay, Rory," she soothes.
"How?! How is it okay?" I ask, sincerely desperate for an answer.
"However you got that scar is the problem, Rory. Not the scar. It doesn't look that bad. I mean, look at you," she gestures up and down my nearly nude body. "You're still totally gorgeous. You don't have to cover up because of that." She gestures dismissively at my scarred skin, as if it really isn’t all that hideous.
We stare at each other as I absorb her words. They help, and yet they don't. My scar does not make my body ugly, according to Carl. She thinks it'stotally gorgeous. But I don't want that either. To be attractive, to be desirable. To be targeted by men. To be prey. In my preoccupation over my scar, I almost forgot that it is not in itself the only reason Icover up.It's not even the main reason.
I take a deep breath and start getting dressed. I tug on my jeans and fasten my bra before pulling on my tee shirt. I pick up the bikini with the boy shorts and bandeau top. It's a bikini, yes, but it's really rather modest compared to what I know my friends will be wearing.
"Everyone will see it," I murmur absently as I inspect the bikini. "They'll know."
"Know what?" Carl asks.
I don't respond. Instead, I gather the items I've decided to purchase and with one last sigh, add the bikini to the pile, as well as one of the sexier one-pieces that's basically a bikini with a mesh scrap of material connecting the top to the bottom, even though I haven't tried on either of them. I know I most likely won't wear either, but who knows? Maybe with shorts over them. Even if they are on the sexier side, no one can accuse me of "asking" for anything by wearing beach wear on a beach.
Right?
Carl links her elbow with mine, and without another mention of my scar, leads me to the counter where Tina is already handing over her credit card.
****
On Tuesday Mr. Frank waits until the last minute of class to hand back last Friday's test. He waits until we're all packed up and filing out of the room. Carl is already out the door with her eighty five, and Sam is hanging by the door waiting for me when I'm handed my ninety four. My grin practically splits my face in two. I skip over to Sam and wave the paper in his face.
"That's my girl," he smiles, and holds out his hand for a high five. I comply and he laces our fingers together, and somehow we end up holding hands as we walk to our next classes. It's strange how much pleasure the simple connection brings me. The warmth of his touch, the feel of his skin. I've never felt this before, not even with Cam, and definitely not with Robin."God,I'm impressive," Sam murmurs.
I laugh. "Excuse me?" I reply, though I can't really argue the point.
"My tutoring skills. I mean, look, I turned a hopeless math failure into a brilliant student!" he boasts.
I punch him in the arm with my free hand. "I was pulling an eighty or so, hardly failing!" I correct him, and he grins.
"Details, details."
I roll my eyes.
"Anyway, you're all set for break. You and I are the only ones with single rooms. Carl and Tina are together, Andy and Tuck, Luke and Dave, Chel and Lily, Sarah and Melissa-"
