The lies need to be stopped, Belle. She has to pay for stealing your Beauty. And you have to take it back to be able to come with me to California. You’ll need it there. Will you do that, Belle?
Do what exactly? I thought. I don’t know. But Tom Cruise was so close to me then, I couldn’t speak words anymore. His smile a flashing white that made jelly of me. I was lost in the laughing waters of his eyes. He leaned in closer still. Like he was going to kiss me, this was it. Don’t be nervous, I thought. Stacey wouldn’t be nervous. She wouldn’t get stiff. She was leagues ahead of me with her Black Honey lips and her hair a blond swishing curtain like Rebecca De Mornay’s. Gabriel Gardner had just Frenched her the other day, apparently. Tom’s smile flashed and flashed at me, blinding like an eclipse. His hands on either side of my face, making me shiver. Tom’s eyes on my face like he could truly see me. Could see my great Beauty deep down in the dirt. Could he really see it? I felt his breath on my skin like a cold, cold wind. I closed my eyes, not believing this could be. Tilted my head up just like those terrible girls do in Tom’s movies, those girls I wanted to push off the screen, out of the world. Except I wasn’t one of them, was I? Nothing could change that. Not my slash of lesser red or Mother’s sex shoes or the Dior I was drowning in or my stolen cloud of violets and smoke. How could Tom Cruise ever want me? I started to tremble, knowing he was so close now. Then at the last second, I suddenly lowered my head, afraid. Tom ended up kissing my forehead. And where he kissed me, it burned. I felt the fire through my whole body. I felt shame, why had I been afraid suddenly? I lifted my head back up and waited for him to kiss my lips. I parted them even. I was ready this time, though I was scared. Tom Cruise was my boyfriend, after all. This was what a boyfriend did. Tom, you can kiss me now, I thought with my eyes closed.
Nothing.
When I opened my eyes, Tom was gone. Just Mother in the doorway. Looking at me.
My forehead was throbbing, burning where Tom had just kissed me.
Mother didn’t say anything. Not about going into her room. Not about wearing her lesser red or her shoes or her Christian Dior dress she’d bought discounted from Ladies Evening Wear. Not about Father’s eye bracelet being on the floor. She just stared at me. What the hell is that on your forehead?
Nothing.
Not nothing, there’s a mark.
No there’s not.
Yes there is, like a bruise. Did you hit your head?
No. It’s nothing.
She raised an eyebrow. I was really going to lie like this? Right to her face? That’s it, I’m putting a lock on this door.
Mom—NO!
One minute, Mother said through her teeth. One minute to get dressed and come out here. And then she slammed the door. And in the empty mirror, I saw it on my forehead. Glowing like a star. A mark where Tom Cruise had kissed me with his cold red lips. The skin was still burning.
* * *
She hasn’t put the lock on the door yet, but she says she will. Watch me. Tonight, I have to tell Tom Cruise about the lock. Seth, I mean. I have to find out what he wants me to do before Mother separates us forever. I have to tell him to come to my bedroom from now on, not Mother’s. I won’t have her shoes or her dresses or her Dior Rouge, but at least I’ll have privacy. We can talk about the things Tom wants to talk about. This thing he wants me to do that involves Mother. One thing, Tom said. But the mirror’s still empty. Just me in the glass. I hear Grand-Maman leaving. If Mother finds me here, I’m cooked. The sun’s going down now. I wonder if I did something wrong. Did I upset Tom? There’s still a mark on my forehead. He meant to kiss my lips and I gave him my forehead and maybe he’s angry now. I’ll let you kiss me next time, Tom Cruise, I promise him in my mind. I mean Seth.
Key in the front door. Mother’s home, fuck. Fuck Mother, Tom said. And the mirror is still dark, still empty of all but me waiting.
Tom, you’ve abandoned me. Because I didn’t kiss you? Because I hesitated about Mother?
“Belle,” Mother calls out sharply.
Quickly, I get out of her shoes and dress and I stuff them all back in the closet. I wipe my mouth of her Rouge. I look once more in the mirror before I walk out the door. Just me looking hideous as ever. No wonder Tom didn’t show. Maybe now he sees what everyone else sees.
* * *
In the living room, there is Mother with a man. Not Chip. Not the Troll. A new man.
“Hello, Belle,” he says.
That voice. I’d know it anywhere.
I look up. Dark hair like a wave. White crooked smile. Blue-green eyes that could flash red any second.
“Tom,” I whisper.
Tom Cruise standing in our living room beside Mother. Smiling at me. “What are you doing here?”
Tom just blinks. He looks at me like he’s never seen me before.
“No, darling, this is Bryce,” Mother says. “He’s a film producer from LA.”
“Hello there, Belle. Your mother’s told me so much about you.” He puts out his hand for me to shake. Like we’ve never slow danced. Like he never left a bruise on my forehead with his lips. Like he’s never seen me before, he’s a stranger. I stare at his hand. The hand that touched my cheek, my hair, my shoulders. Acting like it never did.
“Belle,” Mother snaps, prompting me.
“Seth,” I whisper.
He just stares at me. He looks at Mother. Seth? “Belle, I told you, this is BRYCE. Sorry about this,” she tells him. He nods like he understands. “He thinks Mommy could be in his new movie, isn’t that exciting? And maybe we’ll move to LA for a bit.”
“Your mother’s very talented, Belle,” he says. “I think she’s a star.”
He smiles at Mother. And Mother smiles at him.
“Why are you doing this?” I whisper. Why are you lying like this? I thought you hated lies. Is it because I didn’t let you kiss my lips? I was just nervous!
“Why?” Mother repeats. “Because it’s an opportunity, Sunshine. Wouldn’t you like to move to LA?”
Tom Cruise puts his arm around Mother’s white shoulder and smiles at me.
“No!” I shout.
And just like that he turns into someone else. Just a dark-haired man looking at me intently, with a question in his watery eyes. Not blue-green or red. Not Tom’s eyes at all.
I run out of the room. I run to my pink bedroom, where I shut the door.
“Sorry about that,” I hear Mother say. And she laughs her clucking laugh I hate, that sounds like her anger putting on a face, trying to sweep itself away.
“Don’t worry about it,” I hear not-Tom say. “She okay?”
“God knows. She might be playing pretend or something. She’s been going through a phase of some kind. Maybe because of her father. I don’t know. Who knows, you might be an evil wizard in her mind right now. Or a handsome prince.”
Not-Tom laughs. “Well, she’s uncovered my secret, then. I’m both an evil wizard and a handsome prince.”
And Mother laughs again too. “God, I wonder who I am.” I hear the sound of her lighter going click, click. The cigarette catching fire. A drag and then a breath. “Probably the evil bitch queen.”
And then not-Tom and Mother laugh together.
* * *
Dinner with Mother and not-Tom. Bryce. Is he really Bryce? Is he really not Tom? Hard to tell by the light of Mother’s candles. I said I wasn’t hungry, but Mother said, Do not do this to me, please. She forced me into an ugly green dress she’d bought me from the discount rack of Little Miss. Mother calls the ugly green olive, says it shows off my golden skin. I’m sitting beneath the painting she bought in a Metro station, all red slashes in a white sky. Grand-Maman says she doesn’t understand it. The painting or why Mother keeps buying this fancy trash instead of paying off her many debts. I’m watching not-Tom eat a snail Mother has cooked in garlic butter and served on a plate specially for eating snails. He and Mother are drinking wine that looks like blood. Smiling at me.
“Your mother tells me you’re Egyptian.”
I stare at Mother, who’s nodding at me from across the table. It’s going to be one of those nights. Where Mother wants to do what she calls show off. Can’t I show you off a little?