Piece Three

In front of that mirror, I was told I looked okay. Could use a little makeup. Look a little pale today. Look more peachy because the mirror is yellowed a-la florescent lighting, duh. Look like the world is going to end.

And I did. It was a brutally honest mirror.

In front of that mirror, I felt good. It showed me how these strangers were looking at me.

What else was said... stupid gossip. (Did you hear a cheerleader got suspended for PDA?) Silly quips. (The 90s called...) Worries. Hopes.

Those three minutes were like a break from my entire day. The silence of the school. The companionship. It was like the world was on pause while we said things that can't be remembered.

Flashforward: In 8th, Syd came with us to the library. On one particular day, I was pleased with my look. (I remember my reflection clearly. It was bad.) Sort of a "millienia" thing going on, I said. Over-straightened bangs contrasted the curve of my delicate-looking choker and rounded frames. Light blue stretch cotton shirt that made me feel fantastic. I was finally meeting Woody and Joe. I would ace these introductions. I would be charming.

I almost miss that mirror.