The cast party was packed: there were 40 kids who were in the play, plus the 10 backstage helpers, all of the parents… chips and salsa and Pepsi were flying all over the place, as everyone was congratulated for our phenomenal performance. As the lead, I was congratulated the most. Countless pats on the back made me sure that I’d have bruises the following morning, and my brain was on a one-track thought of “Thank you, thank you, thank you very much.” And at the party, when I saw Dan’s face, I knew the toil from the past months were worth it, because I knew that my director was proud. But before I knew it, my mother and sister were shoving my jacket onto my shoulders, with an “It’s getting late, let’s go home”, and I was pushed out of the party; pushed out of the experience; pushed out of the bane of my existence. I had a bit of a backwards glance and a “Bye!” before I was out in the frigid, late November twilight; and onto the rest of my life.

XxX

One month later

XxX

The entire school must have been there—the audience was full, the show sold out. Dan looked like he was bursting with pride, telling me that we were planning to do a few more shows because it was such a hit…

“Bitch!” My sister took her freshly sharpened needle, walked into my room, and burst my fragile bubble of denial. “You never switched my laundry, and you said you would! You aren’t even dressed yet. Get out of bed! School starts soon.”

“I’ll do it in a second!” I mumbled, as imaginary arrows started piercing the intruder’s skull, heart, liver… I hated Mondays. She left, and I managed to stumble out of my bed a few minutes later to try and figure out what to wear. My clothes from the day before were on the floor: a pair of jeans that were too small, and a rainbow cotton-knit shirt. Beneath them was a sea of neon green—people at school called it my moldy marshmallow jacket, because of the insulations and general puffiness of its nature. It really did look like I was a giant, green marshmallow when I was enveloped in its arms of comfort. I was already cold from my exposure to the December air, so I sat down on the floor of my room and put it on. Armed with my shield from the unkind lack of molecular movement, I put on the pair of pants. I contemplated the outfit—someone might notice it was the exact same one as the day before, but the puffy green jacket covered all of it. After all, it was acceptable to wear the same jacket two days in a row. Right?

XxX

“Katie! You’ve worn that jacket every day for the past month.”

I adjusted my facial expression of shock, and turned it into one of shameless amusement as I turned to my friend. “And?”

Carla pulled me with her as we continued down the school hallway. “Well… I mean, it’s not dirty or anything, but it’s the only thing you’ve worn at all since that play you were in.” I flinched. “And, it’s not exactly flattering.”

I waited for my world to start spinning again before attempting to respond. “I don’t care.” Indifference was a good façade. It didn’t show weakness, or sadness. Very blasé. “I just feel like wearing it. That a problem?”

She obviously wasn’t in an arguing mood, and as she scurried out of my presence I chuckled and continued on my way to first period. Thankfully, I saw Dan walking down the hall towards me, and relief washed over my body. Finally someone who would actually remember the play as something other than “that play you were in”. I kept walking towards him, consciously making myself keeping pace with my normal stride to not show my overwhelming desire of his company. However, I heard God start to chuckle as some other person caught up with Dan and began chatting up a storm. I was too embarrassed to even smile at him when I walked by. After all, he didn’t smile at me, either.

XxX

Dan was yelling at me. “The play was horrible! You did a terrible job as the lead! I never should have cast you!”

“Did you ever switch my laundry? What are you dreaming about, anyways? Get your ass out of bed.”

I sent little arrows of love to my intruder for waking me from the nightmare, then remembered the world I was waking up to. I hated Tuesdays. I reached my hand reluctantly out of my warm blanket to grab my jeans. They smelled a little funny, but I didn’t have any others. And the jacket would cover them up. Besides, I had a stomach ache, and didn’t feel like trying to suck in my stomach today for a shirt that showed anything. I was safe under that puffy insulation. So, so safe.

Inevitably, someone started to notice. “Is that the same outfit you wore yesterday?” my mother asked from her perch at our coffee machine.

“No!” I buttoned up the top button of the jacket so my old shirt wouldn’t betray me. “Of course not!” I put on my convincing face. God bless gullible parents.

And damn the ones that aren’t. “Well, you did wear that jacket yesterday. Put on that cute khaki sweater you have. I have a shirt that would go with it, too.”

Conquered at last, I followed my mother to the bedroom, where she took off the green jacket and threw it in the corner. I immediately sucked in my stomach, feeling self-conscious again for the first time in a month. With the tight fit, clean cut blazer, I couldn’t slump all day. Suddenly, I had to care.

XxX

The same way I had said “Thank you” a million times at the cast party that marked the beginning of the Reign of Puffy Jacket, I had to utter the words another twenty times that never ending day as people sighed in relief at the fact that I finally changed out of my green safe haven. Dan even saw me as I was leaving at the end of the day with Carla. He said, “Have a good day, Katie.” I had a bit of a backwards glance and a “Bye!” before I was out in the frigid, late December afternoon; and onto the rest of my life.