Simone Elkeles Quote

I’ve got to get home. Where’s my cell? I ask, patting my back pocket.Alex has it, I think.So sneaking out without talking to him isn’t an option. I struggle to keep the Oompa Loompas at bay as I stagger out of the bedroom, searching for Alex.It’s not hard to find him, the house is smaller than Sierra’s pool house. Alex is lying on an old sofa, wearing jeans. Nothing else. His eyes are open, but they’re bloodshot and glazed with sleep.Hey, he says warmly while stretching.Oh, God. I’m in big trouble. Because I’m staring. I can’t keep my eyes from ogling his chiseled triceps and biceps and every other eps he has. The butterflies in my stomach have just multiplied tenfold as my wandering gaze meets his.Hey. I swallow, hard. I, um, guess I should thank you for taking me here instead of leaving me passed out on the beach.His gaze doesn’t falter. Last night I realized somethin’. You and I, we’re not so different. You play the game just like I do. You use your looks, your bod, and your brains to make sure you’re always in control.I’m hungover, Alex. I can’t even think straight and you’re getting all philosophical on me.See, you’re playin’ a game right now. Be real with me, I dare you.Is he kidding? Be real? I can’t. Because then I’ll start crying, and maybe freak out enough to blurt the truth--that I create a perfect image so I can hide behind it. I better get home.Before you do that, you should probably go to the bathroom, he says.Before I ask why, I catch a glimpse of my reflection in a mirror hanging on the wall. Oh, shit! I shriek. Black mascara is caked under my eyes and streaky lines of it are running down my cheeks.I resemble a corpse. Hurrying past him, I find the hall bathroom and stare at myself in the mirror. My hair is a stringy bird’s nest. If the mascara marrying my cheeks wasn’t bad enough, the rest of me is as pale as my aunt Dolores without her makeup. I have puffy bags under my eyes as if I’m storing water for the winter months.All in all, not a pretty sight. By anyone’s standards.