Damn, you're so beautiful
And don't you know it?
Don't you? Don't you?
I think you do.
Who do you think you are?
Damn, you're so beautiful
And don't you know it?
Don't you? Don't you?
I know you do.

I sat in the den with my textbooks out and the TV off. I kind of wanted to throw my books across the room in anger for Frank beating me because I was actually frozen by the feeling of his breath on my skin. I thought how it would have been if I had worn a full-faced helmet.
“He has April,” I said aloud.
“Who has April? Frank?” Julie asked as she walked into the room.
“Not your business, Julie,” I replied as I continued writing.
“Oh, so he’s looking at another girl and not at you?”
“We’ve never crossed that line.”
“Why not?”
I laid my notebook down and looked at my older sister who stared at me.
“I think he likes you. In fact, I am one hundred and ten percent sure of it.”
“Yes, we’re friends, so yes, he likes me.”
“I’m thinking more.”
“You keep thinking that,” I replied as I picked my notebook up.
“You should ask him to Winterfest. Tell April to take a hike. She’s a freshman, isn’t she?”
“Sophomore,” I tried to continue writing but ended up writing out ‘Tell April to take a hi-‘
“Look, Joanne, I know you never took any of my advice in the past.”
“The only advice you ever gave me was to not go into your room.”
“And by what you’re wearing, you didn’t listen to that either.”
“Fine,’ I replied as placed my pen on my ear, closed my notebook and dropped it next to me on the couch. “Lay it on me”
“You need to ask Frank to Winterfest. You can wear my green dress.”
I threw my head back in frustration. “What is it with this stupid dance? Maybe I should set a date for Prom too?”
“Yeah, you should,” Julie replied.
“It doesn’t work that way.”
“Hey, I’m not mom or dad, so, feel free to tell me everything, petite soeur.”
“There’s nothing to tell….what did you say?”
“Little sister.”
“That’s funny coming from you.”
“True, a few years ago we’d be at each other’s throats.”
“We were.”
Julie nodded in agreement. “Well, we’re in the here and now, and we have work to do.”
“You’re right. I have chemistry,” I said and held up my notebook.
“Have you thought about styling your hair?”
“Nope.”
“I’d think you’d look beautiful, if not to Frank then every other guy in school.”
I replied with a sole snort.
“Why not?”
“Because, there are a lot of people who suddenly remember ‘Joanna and the Amazing Technicolor Dress Rip’.”
“The what?”
I closed my textbook and took a deep breath. “Anthony Riesche is back at Reardan.”
“Who?”
“The guy who tore the dress I wore in junior high”
“Sorry I wasn’t there to do something about it.”
“What would you’ve done, throttle a fourteen year old?”
“Maybe.”
“Get in line.”
Julie took a few steps closer. “Okay, so I’m thinking you should part your hair to the right and we need to work on your make-up.”
“I’ve been doing fine for the past four years.”
“I know. I know, but…but let’s try something different.”
I closed my eyes and tried to get on the “she’s trying to help you” train instead of jumping in front of it. “Okay, just one time.”
“We have so much we can do.”
“I’m not doing your little makeover session to have anyone, especially Frank, staring at me.”
“You will when we’re done.”
I shook my head, packed my books up into my backpack and ran out of them room. I wanted to be tied to the tracks in front of said on-coming train.
“Jo!”
“Look,” I yelled back as I put a foot on the first staircase step. “I have done quite well for myself while you were vonTrapping across Europe!”
“I understand. I also understand that if I was here I would’ve tried to steer you away from what you were trying to do…for your own good.”
“My own good?” I screamed as the front door opened to my parents stepping in.
“Joanna, we can hear you from the driveway,” Mom stated.
“We’re just hashing over something that should have happened sooner.”
“I am who I am. Don’t try to psychoanalyze me because I’ve become an expert in myself. I have fought to live this way. You weren’t here for the hazing and if you were, you’d be first in line to march me back into the closet!”
“Not without a fight.”
“You are damn right!”
“Good, you’re fired up.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Il faut battre le fer pendant qu’il est chaud!”
“Who the hell is Chad?” I screamed. I was irritated from the morning up until that moment and the thought of throwing my backpack at Julie was just below the surface of my dark ocean of a mind.
“Let’s start now.”
“Start what?” Dad asked.
“Julie wants to rearrange my face.”
“-And hair,” Julie stated with a slight nod.
“It sounds like a good idea,” Mom replied with Dad taking a few steps back to avoid the drama.
“Whatever,” I replied as I stomped upstairs.

“Try this,” Julie reached into a large caddy and pulled out a small bottle.
“What is it?”
“À cœur perdu.”
She pressed a button and I think she sprayed the entire contents onto me.
“It’s too strong.”
“A little goes a long way.”
“They’re going to know I’m coming form a mile away.”
“That’s the idea,” Julie replied with a Cheshire Cat inspired grin. “Where do you go to cut your hair?”
“I do it myself,” I replied as Julie picked through my hair.
“We should take you to a salon.”
“I’d rather not.”
“Why?”
“Because they will want to make me into someone else. It’s too fake.”
“Don’t think it like that,” Julie rustled with something in a box of hair care stuff that I hoped she either just bought or was borrowing from Mom. “Think about it like a play, like a Broadway show.”
“Why?”
“Because sometimes it works to have your name in lights and let people see you like a burning torch.”
“My eyes feel like torches from that perfume.”
“Hmm…I think you could be allergic to it.”
“You think about that now?” I replied as I made a mad dash to the sink.
“Don’t mess up your face!”
I turned the water on but looked at my reflection in the mirror and saw myself…I mean, the version of myself I always dreamed of. I took care of my skin and hair, but seldom did I try to make myself look “pretty” on purpose. It was best to not try to draw so much attention to myself for fear of walking down the hall and seeing Tony appear. So, why I would never say I was “cute” but I also wouldn’t say I was trying out the part of Medusa in a Greek tragedy.
The tragedy of the moment was looking at the Joanna in the mirror and wondering why I never let her out. She would be there knocking on the door and I had no idea how to answer her. And now, there she was, in all her splendor

“Ur So Beautiful” by Grace vanderWaal