Perfect Girl - Weebly

“Okay?”
“Will you be home for dinner?”
Not even daring to breathe, I quickly sneak the elephant
into the living room. “They’re feeding us pizzas. I won’t be
home until seven.”
“Seven?”
“No later. Promise,” I rasp.
“Okay.”
Mom smiles and says, “Marty and I may grab a bite to
eat in Middletown.”
I stare at her. When you’re not looking, people can
change right before your eyes.
You know how they say that shoplifting a pack of gum can
lead to robbing a convenience store, or smoking cigarettes
can lead to smoking pot? Well, I now believe that’s probably
true because the first big fat lie I told my mother led directly
to a bigger fatter lie I told my aunt.
“Your mother said it was okay for you and Perry to hop
on a bus to Washington, D.C.?” she asks me, incredulous.
“Yes. Yes, she did.”
“The same mother who freaked out when you went to
the Dover Mall?”
“That would be her, yes.” I swallow, forcing my eyes to
stare into Aunt Marty’s eyes because “Martine on Men”
once said, “It’s easy to tell when a guy lies—he simply won’t
meet your gaze. He’ll stare at your forehead, the bridge of
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