Chapter 15
I try not to stay in the changing room for too long while I'm catching my breath. I emerge to see Violet conspiring directly with the employees over a catalogue of the stores inventory for what's in my size. I take my seat next to Mr. Agust who shares a brief glance my direction, seemingly attempting to subtly assess that I'm alright. Not long after Violet returns with what she's certain is "the one".
After a final trip to the changing room, I emerge to the rest of the store wearing a charming bright pink dress, one with lax poofed up sleeves of a slightly darker pink, and a large pink sash tight around my waist to a ribbon behind me. The skirt of the dress seems enough to hide That-Which-Mortifies-me-So. The shade of pink matches well with the straps of my headgear, so they don't clash.
Everyone's in agreement, this one's a "yes". I decide to trust Violet, and give my approval.
Mr. Agust helps pay for the dress and the paperwork is filled out. Everything is set for the occasion.
From the boutique's front desk to Mr. Agust's red truck, I can't seem to focus on anything, not since that moment with Violet in the changing room. Thinking about her hands cradling my face over my facebows, how warm they felt, and her eyes. While on the drive back into town, I think about waking up on my couch with my arms wrapped around her, how she smelled. The more I think about her, I start to feel that familiar warmth creep down my spine, same as when my tongue is pressed into its crib, but it's different. There's that tickle around my hips, and a shake in my sternum. I try not to stare, but I can't help but keep glancing at the rear view mirror, seeing her riding in the truck bed, her hair flailing about, showing her ears. I can't stop thinking about how her hands smelled, how I want her to cradle my face in her hands again. Even though I don't like eye contact, and how invasive it feels, I want to look at her eyes and have her look at mine. What if, what if she wanted to kiss me? Could she even kiss me? With my braces and headgear and springs and compliance trays? Could she? Could I?
For most pairs of individuals considering putting their lips together, you'd be hard pressed to find someone who wouldn't view my current oral hardware as more than an obstacle, but Violet doesn't seem to mind looking at them at least. She even said she LIKED how they looked! It's not like I don't wanna know what it would feel like, and she was right, it's gonna be a really long time before I get any of part of my braces taken off, and there's no telling what more Dr. Richardson will be adding to my treatment in the future. At this point, I'm not even sure I want any of it taken out. Why don't I want any of it taken out? The thought has my knees shifting together. My braces are apart of me, so's the headgear. They're apart of who I am, and part of me even kinda likes that I can't take any of it off. Maybe Violet feels the same way? What if Violet had braces too?
The truck hits a sizeable bump ripping me from my thoughts. Dammit, that scared me. I make a mental note for a trip to the bathroom for a change when I get back home. Mr. Agust slows to a stop in front of the road leading to my house, as it's too small for even his truck. After hopping out, I turn to wave goodbye, noticing the driver rear tire has logged itself stuck along a low curb.
Mr. Agust sighs.
"Violet dear, would you?"
"Oh sure!"
Violet hops out from the truck bed and casually places her right hand underneath the tow hitch at the back of the truck. She tightens her grip, straightens her back, and lifts the rear of the truck off of its back tires, pulling it to her right and setting it back down onto the road.
I'm speechless.
Mr. Agust looks back to thank her from inside the driver's seat as she hops back into the truck bed. She lifted it with him still inside.
Mr. Agust starts the truck back up and begins to pull away, Violet waving with a shy smile as they pull back onto the road.
Oh man.
