Back Humiliation
Chapters (12)
  1. Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Dedication
  4. Humiliation
  5. Teresa
  6. Talcahuano
  7. Forgetting Freddy
  8. Aunt Nana
  9. American Spirit
  10. Laika
  11. Last Vacation
  12. Lucky Me

Again, I didn’t know what to say. The Knights of the Zodiac . . . I didn’t watch them much. They attracted me, yes, but in a way I didn’t understand well, not like my innate adoration for Sailor Moon. I drew a blank, and now I couldn’t even nod to hide my lack of knowledge. I’d been exposed: I didn’t know. Perplexed in front of Carolina, I felt panic. It was a feeling I was to experience often, every time a chasm opened up between me—a little girl—and an opinion—something to hold on to. Carolina, with her judgments of the world around her, seemed to have no problems there.

“Want to come watch it at my house?” she asked.

I nodded again. And then, as would also happen so many times in the future, the panic became pleasant, attractive. A hand appeared on the scene, and whether it was reaching out to support me like a bridge or to shove me from behind, it would force me across that chasm.

I put the album under my arm and followed her down Berna. While we walked, I looked at her more closely. She was very thin and had long legs and arms covered with a lot of dark hair. Judging by her height, she had to be a couple of years above me. She wore a white headband and had her hair pulled back in a bun so thick I guessed it must reach below her waist when it was loose. I was impressed by long hair then because I supposed that feminine beauty resided there, or at least that’s what I’d heard a boy in my class say once: the prettiest ones are the ones with the longest hair. I wore my own hair in a very short bob, shorn on the neck. My dad took me to the hairdresser and chose the cut: the easiest to style in the mornings. He said I was pretty enough as I was, and anything more was just vanity. My dad had a broken nose and several false teeth, so he must have known a thing or two about vanity. It’s not that I thought what my classmate said was true; in fact, when I’d heard his comment, I realized for the first time how stupid boys—and men—can be. But after so many years of that pruned style, I pined for the long, flowing hair of a mermaid.