Page 12 of Imperfection is Beauty

What I didn’t know was that someone had seen it, hated it, and for once, after meeting Aliyah, he decided to do something about it.

I had just raced into the bathroom and was grateful for what our school did.

Digging into my bag, I breathed a sigh of relief when my fingertips brushed the cold metal.

Inserting two quarters into the machine, I pulled out a tampon and raced to an open stall.

Once I had myself cleaned up, I let out a growl at the red stain on my white jeans. And no, not a small stain either.

That was when a deep voice came from the other side of the stall.

Yes, a deep voice.

A man’s deep voice.

A man’s deep voice that had a rasp to it. My fucking kryptonite.

A deep voice with a rasp in the girl's bathroom.

“Here. Wear this around your waist. At least ‘til you get something else to change into.” I heard it, looked up, and then saw a black hoodie being handed over the door.

I tagged it and whispered, “Thank you.”

After I got myself situated and tied the hoodie around my waist, I thought that looked stupid, and then I undid it, held it up, and decided to say fuck it.

I pulled it over my head, and nope, I wasn’t going to go into how good it smelled.

Nope. No. Nope.

And since I was so short, and the man who wore the hoodie had to be freakishly extra-large, it fell to the tops of my knees.Score. And everyone knows you can never go wrong with the colors of black and white.

Smiling, I pulled my bag over my shoulder, unlocked the stall door, opened it, and then froze.

I looked up, and up, and up. So far up that I wondered if I would break my neck.

Did his head touch the ceiling?

My gawd, his arms looked like three of my legs put together, and mind you, I’m short, yes, I have tits, and ass, and chubby legs, and I make no excuses for my size ten ass.

But in other words, I was curvy.

But he really looked like four of me put together.

And as rationality hit me…

A big man.

My small self.

In a closed room.

With nowhere to run.

And then, I waited for that run-for-your-life feeling to invade my every pore.

… it didn’t.

What the hell?

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