Lucy hates herself for being so superficial. She’s always been so determined to not be petty. She reads Newsweek instead of Cosmo. Politics, wars, natural disasters were always so much more interesting than what new look is in and boys. Boys. It seems like all girls could talk about were boys. Her friends included. Lamentably.
Jack doesn't gain much of her attention at first. He's way too sappy and says things that make her cringe.
"Wait stop for a second."
"Okay..."
"I hope this doesn't come across as awkward, but your eyes are so lovely under this light. I just...I hope you don't mind. I just want to stare at them for a bit."
She bites the inside of her lip as he stares into her eyes to prevent herself from laughing. Oh, she'll definitely have quite a few laughs with her friends after wards. She tries to look into his, out of curiosity, of course, but can't quite hold his gaze. His eyes are brown, and she takes note of that.
Perhaps it's a cultural difference. Lucy thinks of her parents, typical Asian parents and gestures that they consider affectionate and loving. "Lao pou, here's your birthday present." Her dad mutters as he pulls out a neatly folded banking slip from his wallet. "I added two hundred dollars to your bank account." Her mom takes the slip, thanks him, and returns to dumpling folding. Lucy hasn't met Jack's parents yet (and has no intention to of course) but she can only imagine, infer the differences from how he acts.
He gives her a bouquet of flowers each date. Sometimes a single rose. And she has to admit that it's quite nice.
"You're falling for him. You're totally falling for him. Hard."
"No...no. He's just really nice. That's all."
It's really silly though what loops her in at the end. She wishes it was how brilliant he was at the piano, banging out Rachmaninoff or how he knew more Pablo Neruda poems than her or how he could actually keep up with her when they debated politics. Just something substantial. But it's simpler than that, and it makes her feel like such a typical girl.
He tells her she's beautiful.
It shouldn't affect her so much, shouldn't matter that much, because all she's tried to do is be anything but that petty petty girl who melts when a guy calls her beautiful. But no guy's ever really called her beautiful before. She's always been called cute, fun, smart, and very occasionally pretty, but never beautiful.
She tries to explain it to him one day as he's pelting her neck with kisses.
"I can't believe no one's ever called you beautiful before. Because you are. You really really are."
"Gag. You're being really really sappy again."
"You secretly like it remember?"
"Well...yea, but I don't want to...you see? Because I want to be other things too, and I should like being called smart, witty, even funny more than being called beautiful."
"Why?"
"Because I don't want to be one of those superficial girls who spend all day staring at themselves in the mirror."
"You aren't."
"But I shouldn’t enjoy it. I’ve tried to be everything but-"
"So? So what?"
“Well, yea, I guess you’re right actually.” She snorts and laughs heartily into his arm. Jack is confused at first but then starts laughing with her.
**
This one's been in my file of short pieces for a while. Written mostly during Summer '09. I can't decide right now if I really like the end or if it kinda slumps off.
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