Then she’s not old enough for periods except that some of her friends had started. Her Mum took Evelyn to a Colour Younique consultation. Evelyn never looked quite good in the family pictures and her Mum couldn’t say why. She knew Evelyn was pretty in a way that would be clearer when she was in her late teens. She had freckles and ears that gave her character now, but would make puberty hell. Her Mum, she wanted Evelyn to have the advantage she never had. Evelyn wore her favourite red jumper with the black felt hearts.
The lady from Colour Younique, she had a fat spiral book of fabric swatches she held against Evelyn’s face. She examined her eyes, the inside of her wrists. She lifted her hair to examine the shade underneath.
She’s a Flowering Summer, she finally announced to her mother. Not a Blossoming Spring. Her mother bowed her head as if to apologise for the misguided palate choice.
Evelyn cannot wear Orange, even on Halloween. The lady eyes her jumper and says, Post Box Red, absolutely not. It makes you look sallow, dear.
Sallow is another word for ugly. Pale, washed-out are all other words for ugly.
The lady pushes a card stamped with rectangles of colours. Periwinkle, Cornflower. Butter Yellow and Moss Green.
No Hot Pink, no Terracotta. Stay away from Black and Indigo.
The lady shows her sketches of women with shapes overlaid on them. Pear and Apple and Hourglass. Evelyn is Apple shaped. ‘This means,’ the lady says, ‘you can either wear baggy on top or baggy below. Never both or you’ll look fat.’ The lady says, ‘Big prints will make you seem smaller.’
The lady waves the swatches at Evelyn’s chest and purrs, ‘Isn’t she lucky?’ She nods at Mum and says, ‘Don’t we wish we had busts like that?’
Under her wrong red jumper, Evelyn squirms in the white cotton B cups. Her mother says, ‘Let’s hope they don’t get any bigger. Nothing more off-putting than a girl with a face that doesn’t match her breasts.’
The lady leans into Evelyn and says, ‘Never wear horizontal stripes if you want to look skinny.’
Her Mum, she’s an Inverted Triangle and she worked damn hard, thank you, to keep it that way. She’s a Sheer Winter and Fuchsia, Kohl and Sunshine Yellow look fabulous on her. Next to her, Evelyn is a fat little wildflower.
No one says this to Evelyn, but she gets it.
And armed with the card of safe colours, her Mum takes her to the big department store and they buy leggings, blouses, t-shirts in the same smudgy colours of chalks. Grey and Mint. Magnolia and Puce. Evelyn pulls on pastel sweaters after muted shirts and feels like a photocopy of a photocopy.
Evelyn doesn’t want the pastels, the chalk coloured shrouds.
Her Mum, she says, ‘Trust me. Why would I let you find out the hard way how ugly the wrong sweater or eye shadow can make you look?’
Then she’s assigned a place at Woodrow Secondary, where the uniform is black and red. A black and red striped tie. Black and red check skirt. Her mother appealed. She wanted Evelyn to go to Our Lady of Immaculate Conception where they wore grey skirts with pale blue shirts. But they weren’t close enough or Catholic enough and so Evelyn started high school as ugly as she now knew she could be.
And then she gets her period so her Mum hands her a pack of night-time ultra absorbent long towels that feel like nappies. She says, ‘No tampons. You’re far too young for...that.’
She means penetration. She was so ugly not even a tampon would want to be inside her.
And Evelyn’s smart. She can tell you what the word nurdle means. How to solve GCSE algebra. Online, she searches for How do I make myself pretty? When do teens look good? Am I ugly? Evelyn, she has a reading age of an A-level student, but tonight she spells school skool and friends as freinds. She drops commas and apostrophes.
Online, she meets people. She makes friends. They want to help. They know what it’s like to be twelve and sad. School sucks and their parents suck. Smiling, in her shirt with just the top of her school blazer emblem showing, she uploads photos. Her head and shoulders.
Evelynxxx: R freckles cute?
Evelynxxx: How do iget a boyfriend? How old b4 1st kiss?
At school, in PSE, they tell the children about dirty perverts who want to lie to you and use you. Cheeks flaming in the dark, they watch government videos called The Scourge of Innocence. They just want to make you feel special and, yeah, you are. But not to them. They’re men your Dad’s age lurking on the Dark Web. Hunched over laptops eating instant ramen and doing...that when you message them. They’ll ruin you. Watch out for bad men. Watch out for the dirty ones. The ones that buy you takeaways and send taxis to traffic you across town to gangs of rapists. Beware those bearing gifts of trainers and vodka. Beware the bad men.
Evelyn, she’ll giggle with the others and they text each other on the way home, Watch out for Peado Pete from Peterborough.
Evelyn, she’s lucky. She only meets nice boys. Boys her age who tell her, don’t worry. Of course she’s pretty. Her mum doesn’t know anything. They send her poems. Music recommendations. They talk about homework and stupid parents.
Evelynxxx: Its my birthday soon. Ne ideas 2 make it special??
Each step on the black and white tiles clacks. Too glossy, like maybe she shouldn’t walk on them. Her toe punts a pink plastic chair and the shriek on the tile makes two boys lift their heads from their milkshakes. They smirk. Whisper and Evelyn’s cheeks flame hearing what she can’t hear them say. Click-clack-click of Mum’s heels marching on ahead to the chrome counter with the glittering mound of glass sundae dishes thick as teeth.
Evelyn scuttles behind, under the neon signs dangling from the ceiling, shouting banana splits and hot fudge caramel. Bubblegum sauce. Rainbow sprinkles over popping candy under fat peaks of cream. Crushed cookies and marshmallows. Sparklers. A badge the size of her fist is pinned over her blazer emblem. Her Mum, she taps her nails on the counter then tosses Evelyn a smile over her shoulder.
‘Grab a table, young lady,’ she says.
The Barbie-pink chair lets out a warning creak when Evelyn sits down. She pulls the skirt down where it’s straining over her thighs. Pulls her hair forward and drags thumbs over her phone screen to read a new message.
>> U still gonna meet 2nite? X
Yeah xxx <<
>> Wot u wearin
Not sure. Maybe my new jeans? <<
And her Mum appears and says, ‘Phone down, missy.’
Evelyn puts the phone face down on the paper tablecloth. Mum nudges it to one side with the cold dish. Cold air hits her nose from the glacier of ice cream, thickened with silky trails of raspberry sauce. Wafers jammed in the side. A lonely cherry drowning under the weight of double cream. Next to the mountain, is a thin slice of plain cheesecake with a dribble of raspberry coulis.
Evelyn widens her eyes and says, Wow, that’s huge! For me?
>> Does anyone know where Ur goinh 2night? X
No. Told mum have a violin lesson lol <<
Her Mum looks at the receipt, running her finger down the columns of numbers. She frowns and sighs. She says, ‘Dig in,’ she says. ‘You only become a teenager once.’
Evelyn digs in her spoon and tries to get a spoonful with each layer so she can taste all of it in one bite. Her Mum smiles. She slices the cheesecake thinly and when she holds to the light, speared on the fork it’s nearly see-through. Her Mum says, ‘You know, when I was your age I nearly had an eating disorder. I think it’s wonderful you have such a healthy appetite.’
Evelyn pulls the spoon out of her mouth. The raspberry sauce is sour.
>> Please dont mess me around baby. I need u. I love u so much I just get carried away
But won’t we get in trouble? <<
>> Not that much older. Anyway ur really mature xx
>> Im scared how I feel. Ive never felt like this before
Really? <<
>> Yh.
>> I’m risking everything for u. Please don’t push me away xxx
Evelyn scoops a large bite of ice cream and sauce into her mouth. She says thickly, If you knew someone had a secret, who would you tell?
And her Mum, she says, 'No offence, honey, but it's kind of nasty to share people's secrets.' Picking up her phone, her Mum says, ‘Sit up straight. You’ll get a humped back if you slouch like that.’
And Evelyn sits up and her Mum holds the phone to her face. Turning it around, she shows Evelyn the photo. It’s taken from below, her fat chin and her shiny pimples and the cream smeared across her lips and the half closed eyes and the pink and white badge screaming IT’S MY BIRTHDAY!!
Her Mum’s thumbs fly across the screen and Evelyn reaches for the phone.
She says, Mum, don’t.
Mum leans away from Evelyn’s snatching hands. Without looking up says, ‘What? It’s cute.’
Evelyn, her voice high and loud, says, Mum, please don’t upload that.
>> I bet they still treat u like a kid
>> Wanna know my fave part of u?
Mum smiles and puts down her phone.
Evelyn says, You uploaded that, didn’t you?
And Mum says, ‘Honey, relax. You look cute in in it.’
Evelyn’s phone pings and she sees the photo her Mum has shared. She’s captioned the photo Birthday!! #besties #girlgang #motherslove #thisgirlcan
Evelyn, her voice quaking, says, Mum, take it down.
And her Mum says, ‘Don’t be silly. I want everyone to see what a big girl I have.’
Their phones buzzes and she flips it over.
‘See,’ she says. ‘Marie just commented. ‘‘Looks like someone’s getting stuck into teenage life!’’
And Evelyn says, tripping over the unused words, I didn’t consent to that.
And her Mum snorts and covers her face. She says, ‘You didn’t ‘consent’? Oh, darling, that’s hysterical. Is that what they teach in school now?’
>> But u promised
>> Bitch
>> Sry. Message me pls x
>> U ignoring me?
>> ??
Evelyn slumps back in her chair then sits up straight before her mother can check her. She wipes the cream off her face with the back of her hand.
Sorry. Am busy with my mum <<
>> Kk. Send pics x
Y? i hate my body <<
>> I love ur body. Look what u do to me
Evelyn shovels more ice cream into her mouth because if she’s eating she’s not thinking. In her bedroom, in the Snoopy shorts soft against her hips, her arms lifted high to run through her hair and the draft cold across her torso, bright in the ring light. She turns, poses. Smiles and bends. Catches the flurry of hearts.
JohnnyTwoScoops: sooo gorgeous !!
GoodVibes09: Fit!!!
Davey_14: U got a bf ? X
CherryPicker: snap?
Code_9: u got kik?
ManOnMission: i think Im in luv lol
DTF4eva: yo send pics
Davey_14: I wish I cud meet a girl like u btIm too ugly
CherryPicker: more ! Post more !!
GoodVibes09: u wanna hang out?
Davey_14: DM me ok?
Evelyn knows she’d rather a thousand strangers saw her naked on purpose than one friend see her looking ugly on accident.
No one’s saying that Evelyn’s got it all figured out. No one’s saying she knows how the world works.
>> Will u let me? Pls?
Iv never done it. Sorry <<
>> It’s easy. I’ll show u xxxxx
I don’t know. My friend sez it can hurt <<
>> Nah that’s not true. U’ll love it xxxx
Need to think x <<
Evelyn eats too much too fast and suddenly sharpness carves through her head. She freezes, mouth open in a scream. Then it’s gone, replaced by a dull throb somewhere above her mouth.
Her Mum says, ‘Brain freeze?’
Evelyn grimaces and says, I don’t think I want any more.
Her Mum taps the glass dish with her spoon and says, ‘Don’t be silly. Eat up. It’s good.’ Mum pushes the sundae closer to her and says, ‘You asked for it.’
Evelyn looks down and says to her lap, I’ve had enough.
Mum mock-pouts. ‘You’re not going to let poor Mummy eat on her own, are you?’
Evelyn says, No, it’s just...I’m sorry, but I’m so full.
Her Mum bats her eyelashes and says, ‘Pretty please? With a cherry on top?’
Evelyn says, I don’t want to.
Her Mum clatters the spoon on the thick cold funnel. She says, ‘You wanted it so finish it.’
>> Wtf?
>> U sed u would
And Evelyn, she whispers, I can’t.
Mum’s face hardens. ‘Finish it, please.’
Evelyn mouths, No.
Her Mum says, ‘Evelyn, this cost quite a bit of money. And you did want to come here. It’s a special treat.’
And Evelyn flattens the peaks of her ice cream with the back of spoon and says nothing.
‘Finish it.’ Her Mum folds her arms. ‘We’re not going anywhere until you do.’
Evelyn looks at the glossy menu and Mum’s fake blue leather purse crammed with receipts and credit cards. Behind stamps and coupons and shopping lists, photos of Evelyn, fat and curly-headed, clutching a lollypop. Those gotta-grab-em-cheeks smeared with spit and sugar.
>> Want me 2 send these so everyone knows what a nasty little slt u r? Don’t. Pls <<
>> Fcking dirty little lying cck teaser
>> Thought u were diferent. Better than the rst
Evelyn picks up the cold long handled spoon. Her eyes look back dully in the tarnished metal. Press it into the never ending mess of cream and sprinkles and sweetness. It sucks the spoon in and drawing out a huge mound of ice cream she forces it into my mouth. The sundae looks no smaller. More. Her back teeth shriek and her tongue is fat and numb, but she digs in again.
Shovelling more into her mouth, hoping the faster she eats the sooner this is over. The layer turns to a crust of brownie and the spoon has to push in harder. It gives way and there’s a rich tang in her nostrils of dark chocolate sauce. The neck of the sundae glass is matted with fingerprints and melting cream. It leaves pools and wet circles on the tablecloth. That cheap black and white paper cloth softens and tears and under it are scars in the cheap fake wood.
>> Didn’t mean it. Was only jokin xx
>> Baby Imsry
>> Pls come chill 2nite
>> U know id never hurt u x
Evelyn hiccups and there’s a wet smack behind her teeth. She clamps her lips shut. Her eyes widen.
‘Don’t you dare,’ her mother hisses. ‘You hear me? Don’t. You. Dare.’
Evelyn swallows and swallows. Glucking air and finally she can relax her mouth.
Her mother leans back in her chair and deftly slices the end of her plain cheesecake slice. And Evelyn, she picks up her spoon
Evelyn’s jaw aches from slurping cold gluck as fast as she can, churning it into sour and bitter. A vice grip around her throat and if she wanted to say no more, she couldn’t any more.
People are watching. The parlour gets busy then isn’t. Footsteps stop and at some point there’s the clang of a bucket on the floor. Wet drop of a mop in water. She’s late now and he’s waiting.
Finally, she doesn’t know how long it takes, time is both soft and hard and not even real anymore. Finally, the dish is empty. All done.
Her Mum toys with her fork and mumbles to the half-eaten cheesecake. ‘You have to learn. You can’t just go around changing your mind when it suits you.’ Her Mum clears her throat and looks up at her. She says, ‘ It isn’t fair on other people.’
Footsteps approach and Evelyn whispers, Sorry, Mama.
The waiter with the sunburst of pimples on his chin, his hand hovers over the cherry on the table. He says, ‘Is that for me?’
Evelyn nods, wipe the cream off her mouth with the back of her hand.
He sweeps wet napkins and cherry into his hand, all streaked with raspberry sauce and watery cream. The cherry busts in his fist and between his knuckles scarlet runs in thin rivers. Down his hand and gathers in the folds at his wrist. Curls his tongue around his hand to catch the juice. He smiles.
>> U done yet? Yea <<
>> Kk xx
>> Come meet me now.
>> I’m waiting
Her Mum watches the waiter walk away and says, ‘He’s cute.’ She smiles at Evelyn, hard and bright, and says, ‘Ready to go?’
Evelyn’s stomach, it cramps when she stands up, cold stabs near her bellybutton.
Driving Evelyn to the tram station, her Mum says, ‘You can’t know this yet, but a daughter becomes her mother’s biggest rival the day she gets her period.’
Evelyn, she stares out of the car window. It’s dark now.
Her Mum turns left and says, ‘That’s why I like these special days,’ she says. ‘I want us to be friends.’
The car draws to a stop in the small gravel car park. Her Mum flicks down the visor and inspects her eyeliner in the mirror. She says, ‘In many ways, my relationship with your grandmother would have been perfect if she’d died when I was ten.’
And before she gets out of the car, Evelyn tries one more time.
She says, Mum, my stomach hurts. Can we just go home?
And her Mum, rubbing a finger against her waterline says, ‘You’re going to be late.’
Evelyn opens the car door. She opens the car door and somewhere in the distance car lights flare. She catches the smell of cigarettes. Her phone pings, once, twice.
>> U cummin or wot?
>> Hpe u left room ;)
And Evelyn, she jams two, three fingers down her throat and it all comes out, the ice cream and sauce and wafer and cherries and the birthday treat.
And her Mum says, ‘Jesus, Evelyn! Oh, my God!’
And Evelyn wipes her hands over her mouth. In the car light she can see it’s all down her blazer and tie. Puce and Magnolia and Butter Yellow.
And her Mum rubs her back and holds back her hair and says, ‘Just get it all out, sweetheart.’
A car drives past them, slowly then fast. Evelyn watches the red lights, like cherries, grow smaller and smaller.
And her Mum says, ‘Why didn’t you say you felt sick? You silly little girl.’
And Evelyn, her stomach sore, sour acid burning her throat, she forces her fingers again down her throat.
Great story, I cringed throughout the whole thing. I can't imagine what girls go through these days. "Evelyn’s cheeks flame hearing what she can’t hear them say" loved this line, my cheeks felt warm