I think she blushes. I don’t know because I don’t look to my side. My head remains facing up, but I think I hear her blush a little.
“What’s her story? Doesn’t each constellation have a story on how they became their form?” She asks with curiosity.
Now I blush. I love being able to teach her things I’m passionate about. Snowboarding, now astrology.
“Yes, each constellation has a story. Cassiopeia’s story is one of my favorites.” I begin. “She was a queen in Greek mythology and she boasted about her beauty. She boasted that she was more beautiful than anyone. Poseidon didn’t like this, so he sent a sea monster to terrorize her kingdom. To save her people, Cassiopeia’s daughter, Andromeda, was chained to a rock as a sacrifice to the monster. But a hero, I forget his name, came to the rescue and defeated the monster, saving Cassiopeia’s daughter. As punishment for her arrogance, the Gods placed Cassiopeia in the sky where she’s often depicted as a queen sitting on her throne, upside down, because she was humiliated for her vanity. So, she’s a reminder to keep our pride in check and that beauty isn’t everything.” I explain.
I’m expecting Genevieve to respond, but she just remains quiet staring at the silent sky.
“Genevieve. You okay?” I ask her.
“Yeah, I’m just letting the story sink in,” she says.
Sink in? I guess I never thought of the story so deeply. I’m about to say something when she beats me to it.
“I guess I can relate to Cassiopeia more than my freckles,” she starts. “I’ve always gotten ahead in life because of my looks and my dad too I guess. You might know him,” she says. “David Brown?”
“Holy shit. Your dad is from Crash and Burn? I can’t believe James Haven is your dad,” I say. But then I see the way her face falls and regret even recognizing them.
“Yeah, that movie has followed me my whole life. I wish people knew me as something else sometimes. But to be honest, I use it to my advantage a lot,” she says. “It’s funny. I hate that movie more than anything because without it, I could be treated normally. But also without it, I wouldn’t have anything I have today.”
“Wow,” I tell her. “That’s tough.”
“Yeah. Is it weird to hate and love the same thing at the same time?” She asks me.
“No, not at all! Sometimes the toughest things in life are the best things in life,” I tell her.
“Yeah. You’re right,” she says.
“And I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel worse for practically fangirling over your dad,” I say.
She giggles. “It’s okay, I’m used to it. I just want someone to like me for me and not my dad’s fame or my body,” she says. Little does she know I do. I like her for her. For her beautiful mind. Nothing is hotter than a girl who has something interesting to say. Maybe that’s what Genevieve needs to hear, that more people like her for her.
At this point, we are still flat on our backs and facing the sky. I turn my head to face her so she knows I’m serious when I say this.
“I like you,” I tell her.
She giggles again. “I like you too,” she says.
“Yeah, but I like you for more than your father’s fame or for your beautiful body. I didn’t even know he was your dad until now. I like you for you Genevieve. For your mind. For what’s inside of you. You radiate intellect, you just like to hide it. But I already know you are the smartest girl in any room you go in. You’re definitely smarter than me. So why the front?” I ask her.
She’s speechless. I don’t think anyone’s ever said anything like this to her before. Good, I can be the first.
“It’s not a front, necessarily. It’s more like taking the easy way. It’s easy to let people just think they’re right. Pretty face, dumb mind. You know. But if I dare switch up persona’s on them, they would be confused,” she says.
“Makes sense, but still, that’s not a good enough excuse. So why the front?” I ask.
I know there’s something she’s not telling me.
“I don’t know. I guess I’m scared to let people know the real me; because once they do, I feel like they can just hurt me even more,” she says.
That’s the answer I was looking for, the real her. But her answer is relatable. Everyone is scared of opening up and getting hurt, but I guess that’s the beauty of life.
“I’m sorry, Genevieve. If you let me in—really let me in—I swear I won’t hurt you.”
And I mean it.
Her mind, her heart... they’re more precious than any powder run I’ve ever had.
