Page 39 of Hey Girl
Mayzie’s shoulders relax along with her warm smile and I can see the pride she has in me. It gives me a little extra bump of affirmation as I roll my shoulders and blow out a slow breath.
“Okay Enrique,” she calls over her shoulder. “You can come -,”
The door springs open before she can finish, smacking against the wall as a small man in New York black launches through the opening, making me startle and climb into the vanity chair. Backwards, I cower, peering at him above the back rest.
His hair is gelled to stand up in frosty spikes, and he’s wearing designer sunglasses - even though we’re inside - that he snatches off his face to assess me.
“Hi,” I barely utter in a murmur as I try to be brave and straighten up a little.
A quick vertical shift of his gaze and two seconds of silence later, he opens his mouth.
“AGGGGGGGHHHH!” He shrieks, his eyebrows shooting up as he brings his hands to either side of his face like he’s trying to contain his rapidly-spreading smile.
The abrupt siren of his exclamation has me swiftly hunkering down again as he belts on.
“Oh my gawwwwd, Maze,” he turns between Mayzie’s cringed grimace and my partially hidden face. “She’s absolutely ADORABLE!”
He starts to jump in place until he catches sight of Mayzie pressing her palms towards the floor in the calm down gesture and he promptly stops and straightens, clearing his throat with a hand to his chest.
“Pleased to meet you, Rebecca,” he says, several octaves lower.
“You too,” I barely whisper, sitting up straighter again.
“Mayzie, be a lamb and go fetch us some of your finest red wine,” Enrique exhales, not removing his eyes from me.
She rolls her eyes with a smirk before tilting her chin up at me. “Okay?” She asks, possibly worried about leaving two oppositely extreme personalities alone in a room together.
I blink slowly and nod my head before she turns and walks out of her immaculate bathroom as Enrique regards me with an endearing sigh, his smile much more relaxed. Reaching in his back pocket, he produces a wallet before pulling up a nearby chair to sit across from me.
“Rebecca,” he begins, as he flips through his wallet, looking for something he must want to show me. “We’re going to have… so … much fun,” he draws out while leafing through cards and receipts before he finally finds what he’s looking for.
A proud but nostalgic smirk spreads his lips as he holds a small square out to me. I reach out and take it, looking down to see a little boy in loose-fitting clothes that don’t match, his arms wrapped around himself as if in fright and his big blue eyes wide with uncertainty. His lips are tucked together and his brow furrowed. He looks scared of his own shadow.
I look between him and the photo a couple of times for reference before asking, “This is you?” I only vaguely register that my words came out smoothly.
“It was,” he raises a sharp eyebrow. “Back when I was afraid to exist outside my own head,” he takes the photo back and nestles it back in his wallet. “All I knew about myself was I was different and that couldn’t be good. I didn’t think it was acceptable.”
“H-,” the word stalls in my mouth and I close my eyes and take a breath before giving it another go. “How did you change?”
“We all have that moment that comes to us in its own time,” he explains, tucking his wallet back in his pocket. “For me it was when my parents got me into a private school where bullying was prohibited, and creativity and self-expression wereencouraged. I found out that being different was not only acceptable, but necessary.”
He pins me with a willful stare as I swallow, absorbing everything he’s just confided.
“That’s when I realized that I was fucking fabulous - something I would not be if I were the same as everyone else. Rebecca,” he draws in a breath and closes his eyes, looking almost dreamy. “You are beautifully different. You don’t owe anyone a goddamn thing, least of all the miscreants of society. You don’t have to impress a single damn person with your speech when you have so many qualities going for you to wow people with.”
I can’t help the gasp that pulls up in my chest and being pushed out between my lips. No one has ever said anything like this to me before. I’ve had people in my life that are kind and understanding sure, but I don’t think anyone has ever said something so uplifting to me.
“I do?” I ask, like an idiot. Not quite the productive retort I was going for but I’m so pleasantly aghast. Then again, he only just met me so it can be considered a valid question.
“Yes,” he affirms with a curt nod. “Look how brave you are, talking to me right now. A new person to you, with a hell of a lot more going on than most people you encounter.” He grins triumphantly and I can’t help but feel the corners of my own mouth pull outward a little bit as he continues. “Judgemental assholes are that way because they are cowardly. They are scared shitless of being exposed as frauds, and eager to direct negative attention elsewhere. But you are brave. Brave and creative - yes, I saw your brilliant album covers - and I can already tell that you are kind and open-minded.”
Enrique rises and gingerly takes hold of my chair. I tense slightly but relax when I see he is slowly rotating me to face the mirror.
“And because everybody needs this kind of ego boost,” he gives a charming eyeroll with a half-smirk, “I’m going to go ahead and point out that your skin is like porcelain, your features are strong yet defined - a very rare combination - and you have mysteriously pretty eyes behind those stylish specs of yours that look like they can’t decide if they want to be grey or a light green. Your hair…” He picks up a light brown strand and examines it between his fingertips and purses his lips. “Okay, it honestly could use a little life breathed into it, but that’s what I’m here for!” He drops my hair and spreads his arms wide, presenting himself yet again as the shit, which I’m beginning to think he really is.
“Hi,” Mayzie announces her return from the doorway. She’s holding an uncorked bottle of wine in one hand and three glasses dangle by the stems in her other as she deadpans at Enrique expectantly.
“Marvelous.” He nods at the bottle and walks over to relieve her of one of the glasses before holding it out to her while he continues his appraisal of me.