- Excerpt From U.G.L.Y. Available Now at
www.barnesandnoble.com!
Prologue
"Fat Bitch!"
head. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to mentally shake the heaviness of the
painful language from my shoulders where it now laid to rest. I looked around me and
saw the universal look of pity mixed with anger and confusion from his eyes that
seemed to blink at the brightness of the sudden and unwelcome attention that was
now focused on me. He turned his head back to the street; his eyes scanned the cars
as they seemingly crept past us slowly, as though even they were unsure how to react.
I sucked in a deep breath, and exhaled, shaking the world back to life with the
shuddering motion of my head, somehow summoning enough strength to force a
plastic smile onto my face.
"What the hell was that?" his voice said loudly, competing with the uncompromising
presence of the New York City streets. His eyes tried to camouflage the
embarrassment and uncertainty that seemed to pour out of him. He turned to me once
again and scanned my face for a reaction.
I focused my attention ahead and felt my face begin to strain against the fake smile
that painted itself across it.
"I don't even know who that was,' I said tucking a loose curl behind my ear and tugging
at my shirt hoping I could get it to cover up my shame, ‘don’t even worry about it,
really.”
He looked at me and placed a bony hand on his hip. His mouth opened and closed as
he racked his brain for the right thing to say.
"No, for real,’ he finally stuttered, ‘what the hell was that?"
I knew that he didn’t know what to say; that he had never had anything like that said to
him; that he had never had to pretend something hadn't sliced him in half and exposed
all of the inner turmoil he felt about himself. I knew that he had never been summed up
in a single phrase and had been flooded with tears so plentiful that he felt his spirit
would drown, all because of the words of a stranger. I knew that my embarrassment
and shame were too powerful to face on a regular weekday, so mock anger seemed
like the best reaction to take, the reaction that could link him to whatever he guessed I
was feeling.
"Let it go, honestly," I heard a voice that sounded like mine say, lightly, while I stood
rooted in my spot, watching myself continue to walk, amazed at my ability to put one
foot in front of the other, head held high, shoulders straight, eyes focused. I watched
myself walk away, while my soul cowered in the corner and began to shudder from
silent tears.
“Girl, I don’t know why you’re being so calm. I’m ready to whoop somebody’s ass,’ he
continued, each moment feeling as though he had connected to my feelings. He
looked over his shoulder, continuing to search for the reason why, unable to take a
good honest look into my face, unwilling to truly gage my reaction, 'that was so
disgusting. Do you even know who that was?"
