Chapter 4: Do I Love You Because You’re Beautiful?
Ethan rolled over groggily on his hotel bed, squinting sleepy-eyed around his room. It was cool and midday-dim, with only a few bright slants of sunshine beaming past the closed curtains of his window. He stared at them uncomprehendingly for a moment, trying to drag his mind into wakefulness, then with a start looked over at the bedside digital clock. 11:15. The young man breathed a small sigh of relief as he realized that he had not slept through his meeting time with Velma; he was to meet her for lunch at noon. The only reason he wasn’t with her now was that she was caught up in a second fitting and makeup session for the gala in two days. He would have to have a final fitting himself when he arrived to pick her up, but it was a much smaller ordeal. At the thought of clothes (which was not a topic on which he ever spent much time,) Ethan glanced down over his black-and-grey shirt and found it wrinkled from his impromptu nap. Great, now I’m going to have to change, he griped, pushing himself up reluctantly into a sitting position. As he did so, his hand pressed down on one of the many colored pencils that were scattered over the bedspread, just to the right of where he had been lying. His open sketch pad was there as well-- he’d been putting the finishing touches on a drawing when he dozed off. Feeling relieved that he had not rolled over on any of these items as he napped, he decided to put off dressing and instead took up the dark red colored pencil he’d been using earlier. Ethan did not draw on a daily basis, for he didn’t have that much interest in it, but he did keep his sketch pad on hand for those times when he felt inclined. On this particular drawing he was taking more care than usual. A few pencil-strokes into his work, Ethan had to stop to rub the sleepiness once again from his eyes. After all that college, you’d think I’d be used to sleep-deprivation, he joked with himself, yawning. He hadn’t been getting much sleep lately, though he supposed at a place like Spooky Island that was more or less a given. Ever since their wonderful first date, he and Velma had been out together almost constantly, sometimes with the whole gang but mostly by themselves. Their days and evenings constituted one long, continuous date; Ethan would pick her up sometime after breakfast and they wouldn’t return until a single-digit hour of the morning. The island offered every activity that a dating couple could want, and they had sampled them all. Last night Ethan had decided to give a Velma a "cultural experience" and so took her to her first club. She liked dancing once she let go and got into the music, and Ethan, who had a musician’s natural sense of rhythm, was always up for it. They’d been totally exhausted when they returned to the hotel, and he was still feeling a bit of it. Though Ethan couldn’t speak for Velma on the subject, he also knew that their great amounts of time together were, for him, beginning to develop a definite sense of urgency. Three short days from now, they would both be leaving Spooky Island. In three days, they’d be separated, going to totally different parts of the country, back to their respective lives. Ethan had no idea what he was going to do about that, giving him two unsolved, difficult questions to grapple with on the remaining days of his vacation. This was a totally unexpected problem, because although he’d fully counted on meeting some nice girls during his trip, he’d never anticipated falling in love. But he had. Even with the nagging knowledge that he and Velma would be separated at the end of the trip, he had never once thought of their romance as a summer fling, as a temporary pairing made purely for fun. He had never treated it as anything other than a potential long-term relationship, investing all he had into it. He cared about Velma too much to do otherwise, and had since day one. It was fast, but maybe, he reasoned with himself, he’d recognized his feelings for Velma so quickly because, even though he hadn’t known it specifically, he’d been looking and waiting for her during the whole of his dating life. Granted, this was not a particularly long span of time, as Ethan was two months shy of only his twenty-third birthday. During that time, however, he’d had a great amount of dates, though only three relationships-- none of them particularly serious. Through it all, he’d always had a sense that something was lacking. Ethan disliked "typing" people, but he couldn’t help feeling that so many of the women he dated all ended up seeming the same to him. When it came to dates, he more often didn’t do his own choosing-- the women just tended to approach him, and he was more than happy to leave things that way (probably a throw-back to all his earlier rejection, he figured.) After all, who was he to turn down a good-looking girl who seemed interested in him? His problem was that once the second or third date was over, he found that there was no strong attraction other than the physical, and half the time he got the idea that the feeling was mutual. Certainly most of the girls were fun to hang out with, but after a very short span of time he would get the feeling that he knew all about them that he needed to know, even though he knew that wasn’t fair. With Velma, however, things were utterly and totally different. He thought he could be with her every day and never get tired of her. She was fun, though not in such an exuberant way as some of his other dates. This was fine with him as really wild girls weren’t his type, though there were times that he wished she would let loose a little more. He knew she could. He and Velma also had some of the best conversations of his life. On other dates the conversation tended towards shallow or at least very general subjects, but Velma was so intelligent and witty that she could converse about just about anything-and did. She really listened to what he had to say, but not in a fawning way-- just in an interested, attentive way. He hoped he did so well for her. What he really loved about her was that from the start it was obvious what a complex person she was. One could see it in a just a few minutes of being around her. She was almost like a mystery herself to Ethan, who was fascinated by all the different, sometimes opposing, facets to her personality. He loved that she was so spunky and confident, yet shy when he looked at her the right way or asked her a certain question. How she was incredibly strong, yet her feelings, deep down, were soft. Her humor was razor-edged most of the time, but ultimately she was so gentle. Ethan had been privy to such an example just that week when Shaggy and Scooby fell ill-- the result, it turned out, of having gorged themselves on two jars of red peppers... apiece. Velma went up to the room to relieve Mary Jane of her nursing duties for awhile, and though she gave the pair a good lecture over their gluttony, anyone could tell from the concern in her eyes that she cared deeply about them. Ethan had helped her as she applied cool compresses to the patients and held glasses of cold liquids up to their lips. Even when they fell asleep she hadn’t left the bedside, and Ethan was touched when he saw the gentle way that she smoothed Shaggy’s messy locks back from his damp forehead as he slept, or how she would reach out and rub behind Scooby’s ears when he whimpered in his sleep. Of course it wasn’t just personality that drew him. His attraction to her couldn’t be summed up in that apologetic sentence-- "but she has a great personality..." Not at all. He was seriously physically attracted to her as well, more than he had been with any woman. Not only was she beautiful, as he truly thought she was, but she didn’t feel the need to show off her looks-- perhaps a bit too much so, he had to admit. She made an effort to look nice for him-- he knew and appreciated that-- but there was always the sense that she wasn’t going to change her looks to impress him. That was good, because she didn’t need to. A lot of the women he had dated wore clothes that left little to the imagination, which he didn’t mind seeing, of course, but at the same time he preferred to have some mystery to it, some teasing. It made him feel like a hypocrite in a way, because at the same time he respected Velma for her modesty, if she were suddenly to turn up in a scant outfit, he knew he’d enjoy the sight. However, it was really a hypothetical question, because she wouldn’t ever do that. At least, he didn’t think she would. Remembering his own looks, Ethan gave his now-finished drawing a final glance and then rolled unceremoniously off the bed and headed for the closet. Tugging a similar black shirt off its hanger, he changed quickly, then moved into the bathroom to investigate his sleep-tousled hair. If he really hurried, he might even have time to run a few necessary errands before he met Velma, rather than cutting into their time together later on. He was planning a special date for the following evening, and it was requiring more preparation than he’d anticipated. He didn’t mind; he wanted everything to be perfect when he finally told her how he felt, and when he finally gave her their first kiss--if he could manage to hold out on both counts until then. Though he wasn’t certain how deeply she returned his feelings, he could no longer hold his back, and with the busy-ness of the gala the next night, it might be his last chance.
Velma sighed as she gathered up an armful of dresses and pushed her way through the curtain that closed off the informal changing area. The two wardrobe coordinators for the gala were not going to be pleased by the fact that she didn’t like any of the four outfits they had sent back with her to try on. She didn’t feel too sorry for them, however, as she had told them what she did and didn’t like-- and they seemed to have just disregarded it. The dresses they had picked out for her were stylish, but definitely not her. She hoped that in the time they had left they could come up with something that didn’t leave her half strangled and self-conscious, or require her to assume unnatural postures just to keep the darn thing on and covering everything that she thought ought to be covered. Frankly, she didn’t think that was so much to ask, but then again she knew she wasn’t exactly a fashion expert. Holding the dresses higher so that their long skirts wouldn’t drag the floor, Velma made her way through a narrow corridor and back to the large basement room that had been converted into a dressing and makeup room. Upstairs was the ballroom, which before had simply been Spooky Island’s largest dance club. For the entire week crews had been working round the clock on the place, turning it into a formal ballroom for the major press event. Velma was looking forward to it immensly-- the reason mainly being that Ethan would be her date. Stopping in the hallway for a moment, Velma smiled as he came into her thoughts; he was getting to be a permanent fixture in them as things were. The sound of voices coming from the next room halted both Velma’s train of thought and her footsteps. She recognized them immediately as belonging to the two wardrobe women-- after all the hours she’d spent in that basement, it was no wonder. They were nice enough, particularly Natalie, an amiable young woman whom Velma guessed to be very close to her own age, perhaps a bit younger. The other, Melissa, seemed closer to her thirties, and from her efficient and straightforward way of working Velma could tell that she’d been in the business for a good amount of time. It was Natalie’s voice that she first heard drifting back into the hall, and automatically she stopped to catch the words. I’m investigating, she excused herself, even though she knew just plain snooping was a better word for it. It was just that some sort of well-worked instinct told her that she was the subject of the conversation, and her suspicions were soon justified. "Do you think they’re a couple?" Natalie asked her co-worker. "Velma and Mr. Heavy Metal?" Melissa replied, sounding, Velma thought, somewhat amused. "Don’t you mean Mr. Hot?" Natalie giggled, and Velma felt a small surge of pride. She couldn’t agree more with the other girl’s assessment, and just the thought that he was with her... well, of course it made her feel good. "I bet they are," Natalie continued. "I wouldn’t think so," Melissa answered, taking both Natalie and Velma aback, the latter much more so than the former, who was only engaging in casual conversation. "Why do you say that?" "Oh, come on Nat, they don’t really look like each other’s type, you know?" "No, enlighten me," Velma muttered sarcastically under her breath, still in her place in the hall. As the words left her lips, however, she realized that she was probably being too harsh. After all, hadn’t she thought similar things to herself before she and Ethan got together that first time? It was just so strange now, after her talk with Daphne and all the incredible dates she’d had with Ethan, that those same words sounded so wrong to her. "Well, opposites attract," Natalie asserted, and her words were immediately followed by the sound of her biting down on some kind of crunchy food. The two women must have been having lunch while they waited for her; it was about that time of day. "Oh, well, yeah," Melissa agreed. "But it’s not just that. She doesn’t..." The older woman paused, sounding to Velma as if she were trying to find the right words. Trying to be tactful, she thought, still feeling defensive. "She doesn’t look like the kind of girl he’d go for, that’s all I’m saying." There was another long pause, punctuated by the hiss of carbonation as one of them opened a bottle of soda. "She has a really pretty face, though," Natalie came back in, and Velma felt stung, though she knew the young woman was really sticking up for her. How many times have I heard that, she thought wearily, reviewing the times when she’d heard people use that same phrase about her, always with a bit of a wishful tone. I DO have a pretty face, Velma let herself acknowledge. Well, I’m not terrible-looking, anyway. In fact, she knew that she wasn’t bad-looking at all, even if her oversized glasses and "tomboy-ish" clothes weren’t exactly considered the height of fashion. (What she didn’t understand was why people considered a skirt and turtleneck combination tomboy-ish. How many men wore that?) "Oh, I think so too," Melissa said, agreeing with her friend. "It’s just not... obvious. She’s not obviously pretty. And you know how guys like that are. What they go for is the obvious." Guys like WHAT? Velma questioned Melissa silently, feeling that her assumption was more unfair to Ethan than to herself. Maybe some guys his age focused almost solely on looks, but he was different. She knew he was, he had to be. He was deeper than all that, he had... substance. Unwittingly, Fred’s voice sounded in her mind, repeating something that he’d said to her during their first night on the island. ‘I’m a man of substance, and dorky chicks like you turn me on, too!’ The re-emergence of that memory surprised Velma, though she had been fairly irked at Fred when he’d said it. He’d apologized later, and assured her over and over that he’d actually meant it as a compliment. Since it came from Fred, she’d decided to accept it in that context. But what about Ethan? Does he think I’m a ‘dorky chick,’ too? Is that what he likes, or does he just overlook it? Velma realized suddenly that even though it was alright with her if Fred thought that of her, she didn’t want Ethan to. Swallowing a mouthful of food, Natalie picked up the conversation. "Mel, you really are getting to be a cynic." "Maybe, but you gotta admit I have a point. Young, good-looking guy like that... what kind of girl do you usually see them going after? Some thin, model-type beach babe, that’s what. I hate to say it, but it’s just the truth." This time it was Ethan’s voice that echoed through her mind. ‘--and that hot babe-- Daphne!’ Daphne-- an ‘obvious’ beauty if there ever was one. Was that what Ethan was attracted to after all? Wait a minute, Dinkley, you’ve moved past that, she argued with herself. Remember what Daphne said. Bringing this up again is just a waste of thought, that’s all it is. Waste of thought or no, the seeds of doubt had been firmly planted in Velma’ mind-- and were growing more every second. He compliments me every time we go out, she tried to fight back rationally. But isn’t that standard? Isn’t that what guys say on dates? But Ethan is so direct-- he’s not the type to lie... "And I’m not just talking looks, either. ‘Cause she isn’t bad-looking, not at all. I mean obvious like flirting and giving him a lot of attention, and you know what I mean by that. She’s so reserved." Velma couldn’t argue this, and again doubts assaulted her. Is that true-- is that what Ethan wants? Of course it is! Is he getting bored with me? If what he wants is a girl that’s going to hang all over him all the time, I can’t be that girl... I don’t even want to be. Is he tired of taking things so slowly? "So why are they going to this thing together, then?" Natalie asked. "I don’t know. But it’s a big press deal..." "Now that’s not nice, Mel." "No, I’m not saying he’s a fame-seeker or anything-- believe me, I’ve seen those, and he’s not one. Way too sincere. I could be wrong on that, but I don’t think so. It’s just that I don’t think he’d turn down the opportunity-- plus, he seems like a sweet guy." For the first time during her "listening in," Velma felt a stab of anger. Even the implication that Ethan was just dating her because she was a celebrity upset her, and more for his sake than hers. He wasn’t that shallow, and she knew for a fact that it wasn’t true. He’d told her that he’d been attracted to her since the very beginning, on the plane, and that was why he’d approached her on the tram-- before he even knew who she was. Even though that incident had hurt at the time, now she was grateful for it. But what was it that he was attracted to? she thought yet again, the question refusing to leave. She knew he enjoyed talking with her, and appreciated her intelligence and her personality. That was wonderful and certainly the most important-- but she didn’t want him to be attracted to all that in spite of her appearance. She was drawn to Ethan primarily because of his personality: she loved his attentiveness, intelligence, easygoing manner, sense of humor, and his gentle, romantic, artistic nature. She loved that he was so confident, yet at times he could be boyishly and adorably awkward (sometimes even immature, but she knew he’d grow out of it.) But she also had an intense physical attraction to him, and now she just had to know if he felt that way for her. She had never felt attractive to men, and now she was having serious doubts as to how this one felt about her. Melissa is probably right. Just look around, Dinkley. What DOES Ethan see in you, anyway? He hasn’t made a move yet... but can you blame him!? Look what happened last time. What do YOU even want... Her thoughts whirling, Velma decided she’d had enough and finally stepped out of the hallway, seeing the occupants of the main room start slightly. The conversation was obviously not going to continue, and the two women shared a slightly guilty look, caught in the proverbial "hand in the cookie jar" moment. "So," Natalie asked, sounding just a tad over-compensatingly perky, "do those fit okay?" "They fit just fine," Velma answered, transferring the load of dresses into Natalie’s waiting arms. "But they really aren’t me." "What would you want done differently?" Melissa questioned, coming over to her. "We can alter one of these if it’s not too drastic." "Can you make it so that it doesn’t require tape to keep it on?" Velma replied with a hint of sarcasm. "That’s not natural." Melissa was opening her mouth to reply when the sound of footsteps on the stairway diverted their attention. Velma turned immediately to see Ethan coming into the room, handsome as ever, dressed in his usual black attire and carrying a sketchbook in one hand. She met him halfway across the room, and he greeted her with a hello and a kiss on the cheek. "We have your suit ready for you to try on," Melissa told him, going over to a large wardrobe cabinet and extracting the tailored black jacket and slacks. "It should only take a few minutes." "Okay, thanks," Ethan replied, taking the suit from her and draping the articles carefully over his arm, the hangers dangling. "There’s a changing area down that hallway to your right." Ethan nodded down at the sketch book that was still in his hand, prompting Velma to take it. She did. "Will you hang onto that for me until I get back? I didn’t know if you were going to be done right away so I brought it." "Do you mind if I look at your drawings?" she asked, glancing over the decorated cover. "No, go ahead. Don’t expect much, though," he laughed. She smiled, but Ethan noticed a sad sort of tension in her eyes. "Is everything okay, Vel?" "Fine," she answered automatically. "Okay," Ethan replied easily, then leaned in to give her another quick kiss on the cheek before he headed off into the hallway. He knew for a fact that she wasn’t fine, but he didn’t blame her for not wanting to open up about it right there in public. He wouldn’t want to either; he only asked her, he guessed, to show his concern. Maybe later on, when they were alone, she would open up to him. Velma stared after him, her mind still consumed with the same troubling thoughts that had been her constant companions for the last ten minutes. For a moment after he disappeared she stood still, and then her eyes made their way to the sketchpad that she held in both her hands. Slowly she moved to one of the hard plastic chairs that lined the back wall of the room and opened the book to the first page. From the very first drawing, Velma could tell that Ethan had definitely been too modest about his talent. It was very, very good, as were each of the subsequent ones she viewed. Most were abstract designs and patterns, and there were also various music band logos, pictures of guitars, and a few cartoon-like figures. Her favorites, however, were some sketches of people, which, though rough and quickly done, showed a good deal of drawing skill. He is so talented, Velma thought to herself, getting up from the uncomfortable chair and flipping to the last drawing. It was of a woman, and it showed a good deal of thorough care in the careful strokes of the pencil. It was fully colored as well, and Ethan had even signed his name at the bottom of the page, as he’d done with only a few others in the book. Velma let her eyes take it in, feeling her heart sink lower and lower as she did so. The woman depicted was beautiful-- obviously beautiful, Velma thought almost bitterly. She was leaning back against what looked like some sort of table or perhaps a piano (the background was only lightly indicated, drawing the attention to the subject) with her head tipped slightly forward and a playful smile crossing her face. A small pair of glasses sat far down on her nose, and she was looking down over them, adding to her flirty look and causing her brunette bangs to fall forward along her face in a gentle swoop. Lastly, the woman he’d pictured wore a long, form-fitting burgundy dress that practically clung onto her curvy figure. Velma sighed heavily. So this is what he likes, she thought sadly... but then she began to wonder. The glasses were black-rimmed like her own, though smaller, and didn’t cover so much of the face. The dark hair was like hers, only styled a little more loosely-- not unlike the way that Daphne had fixed it the other night. As for the figure... it may have been a bit exaggerated, but Ethan would have been having to rely mostly on imagination for that... Suddenly it was all so obvious. How could I have ever doubted him-- again?! Even before she saw the name written at the bottom of the page, she knew. The drawing was of her. She was still staring, almost in disbelief, when she felt Ethan came up behind her, wrapping his strong arms snugly around her waist. She’d been so focused on the drawing that she hadn’t even noticed him come back, or that Natalie and Melissa were now bustling about, hanging his suit back up in the cabinet. Her mind still pulsated with a million thoughts, though she did smile momentarily as he leaned over her shoulder to look at the sketchbook, getting in a soft kiss at her jawline as he did so. "You like it?" he asked her, his voice higher than usual-- a sure sign, she had learned, that he was feeling unsure or nervous. "It’s not as good as I’d like it to be, but I tried." Velma again looked down at the drawing she held out in front of her. "I think it’s beautiful," she answered truthfully, her strong emotions straining to escape through her words. All at once she didn’t feel like holding them back, and she quickly deposited the sketchbook on a nearby table. The next thing Ethan knew, she was holding him tight and nuzzling her face gently against his-- or as best she could with her glasses on. "Thank you," she half-whispered, then took hold of his face with one hand and pressed a kiss against his cheek. Without even thinking about it, and perhaps because of that fact, she’d finally initiated a definite display of affection. "Heyyyy," Ethan said, pleased to the core. "I’ve gotta start drawing more often." His words brought back in an instant the cause of her other doubts. This time, though, she wasn’t going to keep them to herself. I have to learn to tell him how I feel, how to open up, she urged herself on. I trust him. Quickly she glanced back over her shoulder, and was happy to see that Melissa and Natalie were exiting the room for the storage area off the hall, leaving her free to say what needed to be said. "No, Ethan-- I need to do this more often, she started, her hand still gently touching his face. "What do you mean?" "I mean that I haven’t been telling or showing you how I feel-- I’ve just been leaving it all to you. It’s hard for me; I’m not a demonstrative person, and this is brand new to me... but I still..." Ethan had to jump in. "You haven’t done anything wrong, Velma," he assured her, glad for her words even though he knew how difficult they were for her. This was the first time she’d openly expressed even a little of how she felt for him. "You don’t mind?" "I don’t mind... but.... well, let’s just say that anything you give me... I want. But I’m not complaining. And hey," he grinned, "anticipation makes everything better." Velma normally would have shot a barbed retort right back at a line like that, or else clobbered him lightly with his own sketchbook. This time, though, she just nestled into his arms, and she couldn’t have given a more perfect reply. Ethan held her close, and she forgot all of the doubts that her overheard conversation had resurrected. Though she didn’t know it, Velma wasn’t the only one getting a dose of discovery that afternoon. Melissa leaned against the doorjamb of the storage room, not wanting to spy but unable to take her eyes from the tender scene. Even at a distance, the young man’s love for Velma was plainly visible in his eyes, his expression, and in the way he held her. "Well, whaddaya know?" she commented quietly, a hint of smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Never in her life had she been so happy-- to have been wrong.
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