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wants to feel like a failure? Let your man know how much he pleases you and he’ll trip over himself to keep it going.” Again, I think about Perry. Had I ever let him know how much he pleases me? “Isn’t that a little unfeminist?” I ask. “Feminist schmeminist. I’m a humanist. I’m a practicalist! I’m not saying you should do what your boyfriend wants to do if it’s dangerous or disgusting. I’m not suggesting you sacrifice yourself for him. Never. No way. All I’m saying is this: If you want him in your life, let him be who he is. And join him while he’s being himself.” “What about sex?” Celeste blurts out. Aunt Marty leans her head back against the booth, sighs. “Ah, yes. Sex.” We hold our breath. Aunt Marty takes her time. I can’t help but admire her again. She knows how to work a room. Even if that “room” is three teenagers who know next to nothing. “<strong>Girl</strong>s make the mistake of thinking sex is the way to a boy’s heart,” Aunt Marty says finally. “It isn’t. It’s the way to another organ. Period. <strong>Girl</strong>s who have sex too soon regret it because they rarely get what they want: love. Never forget that guys separate sex and love; girls confuse the two. Besides, it’s the girl who takes on all the risk—pregnancy, diseases. Why do it? Believe me, sex is not worth the risk until much later. Until you’re in a committed relationship— 124
oth heart and soul. Trust me. That’s the truth.” “We believe you,” Celeste says. Frankie and I nod. Aunt Marty peers into my eyes. “Shall we order dessert?” Dessert? Could this evening get any better? Aunt Marty orders four individual chocolate soufflés for us and an espresso for herself. We devour our desserts (Aunt Marty eats exactly three bites), melt into the leather booth, and bask in the afterglow of Aunt Marty’s advice. I feel more than grown-up; I feel mature. Confident. Womanly, even. Dare I say it, I feel the seed of Goddessdom blossoming within my soul. Perry Gould will soon be putty in my hands. He’ll be a quivering mass of goo, he’ll worship at the altar of Ruth, he’ll— “What’s wrong?” Aunt Marty’s beautiful, serene face suddenly disintegrates into sloppy tears and snot. “Who am I trying to kid?” she blubbers. I don’t know where to look. “Another Cosmo, Martine?” Alarmed, Celeste pats her shoulder. “I don’t know anything about men! I don’t know a thing about life!” “What do you mean?” Frankie yelps. Before our admiring eyes, my blueprint of a Goddess crumbles like French bleu cheese. It’s like running into one of your teachers in the 125
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Mary Hogan
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15 IF AUNT MARTY WEREN’T SMACK IN
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SHE WALKS INTO CLASS TEN MINUTES AF
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“DUCK.” That’s the first word
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“Wasn’t the president’s daugh
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“If it isn’t P. Nerdy in his ga
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IT WAS DELICIOUSLY WARM OUT, ONE OF
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The two of us were trapped in a mat
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you see all four of them? They’re
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MOM HAS HER FEET PROPPED UP ON OUR
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Mom—her kinky reddish-gray curls
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ping powerhouse, Odessa, Delaware,
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when I’m in love with a boy who h
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four, but it felt like forty. We le
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a giant looping ramp. Suddenly, I s
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and Destruction” lectures. “Eve
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Before I could figure out what to s
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I laughed, too. Tried to look as ca
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“Do you have these in red?” she
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what everyone else did. “These cr
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sure they’d been ironed. Everythi
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in front of other males, about not
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“WE CAME ALL THIS WAY FOR A DAY ?
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“Who told you?” my mother asked
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The last thing I saw were Aunt Mart
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Far back in the corner of my closet
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emember it. Like the soft, warm com
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asking Aunt Marty for advice about
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un both hands down the front of her
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Mom is speechless. Her hair is a kn
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She slams the freezer door shut in
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WE’RE TOO LATE. BY THE TIME I BRI
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“We have company!” he exclaims.
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ack). He’d round a corner, wearin
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I’d say, “Sure,” without worr
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I wiggle my freshly painted toenail
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“Thanks,” I say, calling after
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But—and this is a humongous but
Page 81 and 82: Arthur turned into a puppy. I kept
Page 83 and 84: IF AUNT MARTY WEREN’T SMACK IN TH
Page 85 and 86: the wall that separates the living
Page 87 and 88: about your birth.” “What have y
Page 89 and 90: “She was the only member of my fa
Page 91 and 92: Quietly, she repeats, “There is o
Page 93 and 94: Swiveling, she turns her back on me
Page 95 and 96: corn. I want to bury my face in it
Page 97 and 98: “Check this out,” Perry says, s
Page 99 and 100: We sit. On the white couch. Like tw
Page 101 and 102: Aunt Marty steps back and watches o
Page 103 and 104: “I want my daughter to be prepare
Page 105 and 106: AUNT MARTY’S CAR SMELLS LIKE HER
Page 107 and 108: loop of their relationship going. I
Page 109 and 110: “I know.” Truth be told, it’s
Page 111 and 112: sunscreen, and something I can’t
Page 113 and 114: Only, when I see Frankie, she hands
Page 115 and 116: IT’S THE SMELL OF CINNAMON AND BU
Page 117 and 118: Aunt Marty beams. She races ahead,
Page 119 and 120: Lilah impatiently asks, “What siz
Page 121 and 122: “Nothing,” I say. “Good. Now
Page 123 and 124: Shop, the Gap, Tower Records, Banan
Page 125 and 126: Serrano is as excited to see Celest
Page 127 and 128: “A Cosmopolitan, please,” Aunt
Page 129 and 130: Celeste and Frankie excitedly bob t
Page 131: ultimate ego trip.” Caressing my
Page 135 and 136: “That’s why I’m here in Odess
Page 137 and 138: IT’S ABOUT NINE O’CLOCK WHEN WE
Page 139 and 140: fill my daughter’s head with garb
Page 141 and 142: “You don’t hate me, Fay. You ha
Page 143 and 144: My mother moves even closer to me,
Page 145 and 146: something in Wilmington, but the st
Page 147 and 148: I can barely breathe. “You busy S
Page 149 and 150: “Props?” “You know, setting s
Page 151 and 152: your nose, one eyebrow or the other
Page 153 and 154: “Tell your mother the truth.” M
Page 155 and 156: THROUGH THE BUS WINDOW, WE BOTH WAT
Page 157 and 158: “Let’s jam!” he shouts. The G
Page 159 and 160: scope out each mouth-watering possi
Page 161 and 162: “We’ll make it,” Perry says w
Page 163 and 164: appears on the pay line, an astrona
Page 165 and 166: “We can’t.” “We must!” I
Page 167 and 168: completely. My body jingles like a
Page 169 and 170: fantasies. The reality of it is . .
Page 171 and 172: that. Things are flying smoothly ag
Page 173 and 174: twenty minutes, then twenty-five. I
Page 175 and 176: the blood throbbing through my temp
Page 177 and 178: Aunt Marty brings my mother Little
Page 179 and 180: speaks to the coroner about Mr. Art
Page 181 and 182: emember most about Mr. Arthur. It d
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“Me?” At that moment, I realize
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of the talking.” Then she added,
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my head: For fourteen years, I’ve
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As I look at my mother standing the
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This year, three weeks after Mr. Ar
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last pool of syrup with my last for
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much smaller) head. “So do I.”
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WE HAVE ONE LAST FAMILY DINNER—TH
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makeup somehow remains perfect), Au
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in Dover Mall as often as Mom will
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“Hey,” he says to me, nodding a
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ETERNAL THANKS TO THE AMAZING Amand
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THE SERIOUS KISS PRETTY FACE
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Copyright PERFECT GIRL. Copyright
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