Darkroom: A Moo U Hockey Romance, Kate Willoughby [best books to read for young adults .TXT] 📗

“But…is it all or nothing?” I asked. “There’s no middle ground? Because with girls I know, even my mom, there’s like a sliding scale of stuff they do to their face…like a light version for like just going to the grocery store or wherever. Like just mascara and blush, you know?”

I knew from the frosty expression on her face that I’d stepped in it.

“Oh my God, Hudson, it’s like you didn’t just watch me go through my whole routine. No, I don’t have a light version of my face to fall back on. I wish I had the choice, believe me, I do, but I can’t just go out with mascara and blush like other women.”

“When was the last time you went out without makeup?” I asked.

She scowled at me. “Not counting that time I ran into you at the Marketplace, eight years ago.”

“And you were how old?”

“Thirteen. We’ve been over this. I told you that day at Waterfront Park how much I was bullied, that my life was a misery before I started wearing makeup.”

“I remember. But you were just a kid back then. At that age, we’re all fucked-up and insecure, surrounded for seven hours a day by other fucked-up insecure little pricks. But it’s got to be different now that you’re older. Plus, society has made a little progress too, hasn’t it? I mean not too long ago, hockey players slung homophobic slurs around as a matter of course. These days, at least on the ice, there are fines and punishments. People in general are more sensitive, aren’t they?”

“You know, if I’d known when you asked to see my makeup routine I was going to get lectured afterward, I would never have said yes.”

“Indi, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lecture you.”

“Damn straight. You have no idea what I’ve been through or what it’s like to look like me. You look like a Greek god, for shit’s sake. You do realize that, don’t you? Unless something major happens to your face—God forbid—you’ll never know what it’s like. You’ll never be told your face would make a great Halloween costume or watch people back away from you because they’re afraid they’re going to catch whatever disease it is you’ve got. So do me a favor. Until you’ve experienced that firsthand, keep your suggestions to yourself.”

Then she announced she was going for a walk, alone, and left the house.

In the aftermath when I went downstairs, Bonnie said, “How about a nice cup of hot cocoa?”

“With marshmallows?”

“Of course with marshmallows.”

“That sounds perfect,” I said, sitting down at the table.

She put some water into her electric kettle and turned it on then got out two mugs and two packets of instant.

“You heard, I take it?” I asked.

“I heard some kind of argument going on. Indi gets loud when she gets angry.”

“And boy, was she angry.”

“But I don’t know what it was about.”

I told her.

“Her birthmark is a touchy subject, that’s for sure,” Bonnie said. “Always has been. I will tell you, though, it’s a sign of how much she trusts you that she lets you see it.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t negate the fact that I royally fu—er, messed up. She’s probably out there right now buying a bus ticket back to Burlington so she won’t have to come to Brooklyn with me.”

Bonnie shook her head. “Trust me. I know my daughter. Indi’s crazy about you. And for the record, so are Kevin and I. You’re exactly what she needs, Hudson.”

“Oh? What’s that? A guy who can’t seem to resist pushing his girlfriend’s buttons?”

“From what you told me, you didn’t push any buttons on purpose and Indi will realize that. Eventually.” Bonnie poured the boiling water into the mugs and brought them to the table along with two spoons.

I cleared my throat. “I believe I was promised marshmallows.”

“Oops!”

She jumped back up, dug out a bag of mini-marshmallows and laughingly shook some into our mugs. I stirred mine a little longer to get the marshmallows all gooey, then took a sip.

“Man, this hits the spot. Thank you.”

“Not at all,” she said, sipping her own cocoa with her spoon. “Now as I was saying, Indi will realize she overreacted and when she comes back, she’ll apologize.”

“And I’ll apologize right back. She was right. I don’t know what it’s like to have a birthmark on my face. I should have just kept my mouth shut.”

“I disagree.”

I blinked at her in surprise.

“If you ask me, the makeup is a crutch that she’s been using far too long. Don’t get me wrong. I have nothing against makeup. I really don’t. It helped her get through a very rough time, but at the risk of mixing metaphors, it’s time she started riding without the training wheels. It’s always been her dad’s and my hope that she wear the makeup to enhance, not to hide.”

“Yes, exactly! That’s exactly what I want too, I just didn’t know how to put it into words. But how can we do that?”

She smiled ruefully. “I think we can’t to anything. This is something Indi has to figure out for herself. All we can do is support her.”

Bonnie did indeed know her daughter. When Indi came back, she immediately walked up to me and hugged me fiercely. It wasn’t until that moment that I realized how on edge I was. On some level I had been afraid I’d ruined everything and destroyed her trust and that when she came back she’d break up with me. But now, with her face pressed into my chest and her arms around me, those fears flew away.

“I’m sorry I blew up at you,” she said, her voice muffled. “You didn’t deserve it.”

“And I’m sorry I was an insensitive jerk.”

She stepped back and looked up at me. “You weren’t being insensitive. I was the one being oversensitive. I just…” She shook her head. “I thought you understood why I wear makeup.”

“I do. I do understand.”

“Good. Then we never have to talk about it again. It’s my