Page 90 of The Compass Series
AALIYAH
“ T here is no way in hell I’m putting that on,” I said, standing in the living room with my hands on my hips. It had only been twenty-four hours since Connor had become my life coach, and he had already lost his freaking mind.
“Oh, yes the hell you are.”
There he was, standing in the middle of his home, wearing a banana outfit. He was grinning ear to ear like a dork as he held my costume in his hand—a plum.
“You’re insane.”
“Yes,” he agreed, then held the costume out toward me. “Now get dressed.”
“No way. I refuse to become a plum.”
“If you’re interested, I have a peach costume in my bedroom,” he offered with his devilish smirk.
“Where did you even get these?”
“Amazon Prime, same-day shipping.”
Thanks a lot, Jeff Bezos.
He began shaking his banana around as he came toward me. “Come on, Red. You had no problem exploring New York with me two years ago in costumes.”
“That’s because it was Halloween night! Everyone was in costumes.”
“Since when do we care what everyone’s doing?”
“Uh, since forever?”
He walked toward me, with his banana end poking me in the side.
“Which is exactly why we are going to do this. We are going to step outside of the mold and do what no one else is doing. We are going to make fools of ourselves because the more comfortable we become with being uncomfortable, the more comfortable we will end up.”
I blinked a few times. “Nothing about what you just said made any sense.”
“All I’m saying is, we are going to have a fun day being weird and exploring the town dressed as sexually charged fruits because we don’t care what other people think of us. Life is too short not to have fun and dress up like fruit on random Saturday nights.”
“You’re so weird.”
“Yes.” He held the costume out toward me. “Now, go get dressed.” I parted my lips to argue some more, but he placed his finger against my lips, shushing me. “You promised you would let me coach you. Now, come on. Let’s get this going.”
Reluctantly, I put on the plum outfit and came out feeling like a complete fool. I was round, plump, and a nice vibrant purple.
Connor’s face exploded with laughter as he stared my way. “Oh my gosh, this is so much better than I’d imagined it to be.”
“There’s no way I’m leaving the house like this,” I told him.
“You are definitely leaving the house like this. Come on, we gotta go.” He walked over to his dining room table and picked up a huge boom box. Why in the world did he have a boombox? This guy was so weird in the best of ways.
“Where exactly are we going?” I asked. “And why do we need a boombox?”
“We’re going to Times Square to put on a show,” he told me, grabbing his keys off the coffee table. “Let’s go.”
A show? What? No. Nope. I didn’t sign up for any public acts of humiliation.
“I’m sorry, Connor. I’m already drawing the line at any kind of show performances. I don’t have that level of confidence.”
“I know. Which is exactly why we’re doing it.”
“We’re not doing it.”
“Oh yes, Red.” He nodded with the biggest smile in the world. “We are.”
“No.” I stomped my feet. “We aren’t.”
Next thing you knew, I was standing in the middle of Times Square, dressed as a plum next to a male banana, as he put a cassette tape into the boom box. Where did he get a cassette tape?!
People were staring at us, but most of the people who looked on were tourists, which made me pleased to know that I’d probably never see them again. What made me less than excited? The cell phones in their hands as they began recording Connor and me.
“Connor, this is too much for me,” I said, feeling silly.
“No, not yet. This is going make it too much for you,” he explained, hitting play on his boom box. Within seconds, “What a Feeling” by Irene Cara came blasting through the speakers. Was he truly playing the song from Flashdance ?
Then he began dancing around like a madman. He was humping his hips around with his banana, thrusting the air and spinning around and around. “Dance, Red,” he said, waving my way.
I felt so extremely embarrassed as people laughed at him leaping around like wild.
“I can’t dance like people aren’t watching, Connor,” I warned.
“Good. Dance as if they are. And then don’t care what they think.” He came over to me and took my hands into his. He squeezed them. “Aaliyah.”
“Yes?”
“Do you trust me?”
His eyes were so sincere as he asked me. He was filled with hope and excitement, and trust…
Crap.
I trusted him.
So I allowed him to pull me into his arms, and the plum danced with the banana. We spun around faster and faster, taking the world on, and the more I danced with him, the more I laughed. The more I laughed, the more I forgot about the bystanders. The more he twirled me, the more freedom I found.
We danced to a lot of songs, each one filled with positivity, and when the last song came to a halt, when we hit the final note, I asked Connor to play the cassette over again.
Having Connor come back into my life felt like a blessing I didn’t deserve. At times, I wondered if he were even real, or if I’d somehow slipped into an unbelievable make-believe world where superheroes really existed and swooped in to save the day.
Talking with Connor was like talking to an old friend you hadn’t seen in years but truly cared for—effortless. All of the charm he’d had two years earlier was still there tenfold. He didn’t know it, but I was in desperate need of his friendship.
Though, his life coach tasks were a bit overwhelming at times. He’d even given me a list of homework to tackle each morning.
1.Dance around my bedroom to a positive song.
2.Say no to someone you love.
3.Have a cheat meal.
I was still building up the courage to tackle number two and three on the list, but number one came pretty easy for me, seeing how Connor had left a list of positive songs for me to pick and choose from.
“Firework” by Katy Perry
“Best Life” by Cardi B (feat. Chance the Rapper)
“All I Do is Win” by DJ Khaled
“Can’t Stop the Feeling” by Justin Timberlake
“You Got It” by VEDO
His list was a great start. At first, I felt silly doing the act.
I didn’t know how it helped me learn to love myself, but if I could dance in the middle of Times Square as a plum, then I could easily dance around my bedroom.
I did it first thing in the morning after taking a shower.
I’d wrap a towel around me and move my body as if I hadn’t a care in the world.
I added more songs to the playlist, too.
“This is Me” by Keala Settle & The Greatest Showman Ensemble
“I Am” by Yung Baby Tate (feat. Flo Milli)
“Brown Skin Girl” by Beyoncé
Even on the mornings when my self-doubt was louder than the music, I danced.
On those days, I danced more. I’d begun to dance in front of the mirror completely naked, looking at my body and all the flaws my ex-boyfriends pointed out.
My stretch marks. My too small chest. My fat ass.
All of it stared back at me as I moved my hips.
I began singing along with the songs, allowing them to vibrate all across my skin.
“Oh, hell yeah! It sounds like a dance party in here!” Connor said one early Monday morning, walking into my bedroom waving his hands in the air.
“Oh, my gosh!” I screamed, turning around to face him, completely naked. The only piece of fabric on my body was the towel wrapped around my hair.
“Boobs!” he shouted, hurriedly turning around and covering his eyes with his hands.
“Oh, shit! I’m sorry, Aaliyah! I just heard the soundtrack from The Greatest Showman, and I always get excited about The Greatest Showman , and I’ll be honest, I didn’t expect to walk in on the greatest show, man,” he rambled, making the redness deepen in my cheeks but also making me snicker a bit from how embarrassed he’d been for walking in on me.
I think his face reddened more than mine.
“Also, sorry for yelling boobs. What am I? A teenage kid who just saw his first set of tits? I mean, it wasn’t.
I’ve seen boobs before. Many. Well, not many.
But not few. Definitely not few. I’d seen a completely normal, average number of breasts throughout my adulthood.
Not a weird low and not an absurdly high number either.
But you know what I mean, your boobs aren’t the first pair I’ve seen, which means I probably shouldn’t be shouting out boobs toward you like a freaking psychopath even though, I mean, what I’m trying to say is your boobs are worth shouting for.
I mean, fuck, I’m going to go now,” he said, his nervous energy shooting throughout his system.
He began hurrying away with his eyes covered.
“Connor, watch out for?—”
Bam. He walked straight into the doorframe.
He held a hand up and waved. “I’m fine. I’m fine. Okay. Leaving. Bye.”
With that, he was gone, leaving me with no discomfort. Only laughs.