Three-Part Harmony

by Robin Fay-McNair, Kyana Hansson, and Lisa Plantico Carlsson

6 p.m. -- Before the Dance at Nikki's House

Tell me I'm okay.
Love me as I am.
Let me go.

I pleaded inside my head. (Why do I always have to keep it to myself?)

"Don't sass me, young lady!" and "Your Dad said--" and "If your grandmother saw you--"
Blah Blah Blah...

I don't even care what they think. Didn't Mrs. Lincoln say in the Health is Us class, I am okay. You're okay. Unconditional Love.

Wait until I tell Melissa, her mom never says negative things about the way she looks. She builds Melissa up. Gee, it just isn't fair...

Yes, life would be so much easier if I lived with Melissa's mom.

6:30 p.m. -- Before the Dance at Melissa's House

My daughter has been melodramatic from the day she was born. Now here she is again, hiding in the shadows.

"Well, step out into the light, dear. I can't see you ... come closer and stop fidgeting; stand up straight."

She insists on wearing the most unflattering clothing. One would think that my daughter would appreciate my giving her the space to wear the latest styles--namely, short and form-fitting-but no, Melissa wants to wear skirts to the floor and second-hand sweaters.

"Did you look at the make-up bag I left for you on your bed?" I ask hopefully, "Such lovely colors for your skin tone."

"Mom, why can't you accept me as I am? Maybe I don't need to wear make-up. Less is more."

With that, she turns to leave.

"Sweetie, you look lovely. I just want you..."

My voice fades. No, Melissa has never been what I expected her to be.

7 p.m. -- School Dance

Melissa pulled a ball of lint from the sleeve of her sweater as she waited for Nikki outside the school gymnasium. Music and laughter blared from the open doors, but she didn't want to go in without her best friend. She nervously tapped a sneaker against the pavement, trying to keep time with the music.

"Looking grooooovy," laughed a voice to her left.

Melissa jumped, then broke into a smile as Nikki approached. Her eyes widened slightly as she took in the zebra-print halter top, tight capris and stiletto heels--fifteen years miraculously transformed to twenty-five. Maybe she should have worn some makeup after all, Melissa thought.

"Ugh. My mother is so impossible," Nikki grimaced. "What would your grandmother say if she saw you looking like that?" She made a face, "I mean, hello ... it's a dance!"

"I think you look great," said Melissa, although she wasn't entirely sure this was true. She was rewarded with a brilliant smile in cherry-red.

"Come on, let's bogey!" Nikki click-clacked her way inside the gym and immediately began shaking her thing on the dance floor. Melissa followed like a shadow, the thin cotton of her skirt trailing on the floor. Less is more, she reminded herself, but somehow it didn't seem like that as she watched her friend throw herself into the dance with a passion Melissa could only envy. She thought of her own mother, with her constant pleas to stand up straight, make herself bright. Maybe Nikki and her mother knew something she didn't. Melissa rubbed her cheek with the yellow fuzz of her sweater as her eyes followed her friend. Was there a way to say yes to such life, without saying no to her soft sweaters and comfy shoes? Maybe. Melissa picked up a corner of her skirt's floral pattern, and began to move her body to the music.

The Authors

Robin Fay-McNair, Kyana Hansson, and Lisa Plantico Carlsson are members of the same writing group in Gothenburg, Sweden. This piece is the result of an experiment in telling different sides of the same story, with each writer focusing on a particular aspect. Robin Fay wrote the first short, Kyana Hansson the second, and Lisa Plantico Carlsson the third.