Perfect Girl - Weebly
Perfect Girl - Weebly Perfect Girl - Weebly
Perry rolls his eyes. He leans close to me and says, “Tonight is ideal for viewing Saturn. If you want to hang out.” “I’ll be home, Ruthie, if you want to spend the night,” Celeste says, giving Perry a nasty look. I find myself cracking a smile. Things are normal in one area at least. My friends are still in the same old loop. Up at the podium, Aunt Marty says, “Could everyone please take a seat.” Perry sits next to his mom; Celeste and Frankie sit on either side of me. Mr. Arthur’s service begins while my mother is still inside the house. “Fay has asked me to thank all of you for coming today,” Aunt Marty says. “We’re here to remember Randolf Eugene Arthur, a man I’ve been lucky enough to come to know in the past few weeks. Mr. Arthur, as everyone called him, didn’t want a religious ceremony. So we’re here to remember his life and say good-bye.” Suddenly, with a creak, the screen door opens. My mother steps out into the garden. Everyone turns to look. She’s wearing her best dress—a chocolate-brown linen sheath she bought on sale the same day I got my navy-blue dress. I hurry over to her, escort her to the front row. Frankie moves sideways one seat, and my mom sits on my left, with Celeste on my right. “Are you all right?” Mom quietly asks me. 174
“Me?” At that moment, I realize my mother is the first person to ask how I am doing. Everyone else has asked about her. How am I doing? I don’t have an answer. Since Mr. Arthur died, I’ve been walking around in a fog. School is almost over, my heart has stopped thwanging, my mom and her sister are becoming friends, everything is changing. I feel both excited and sad. The way I feel when I hear the sound of a train in the distance. It’s the sound of leaving and arriving. Saying good-bye so you can say hello. Only now, it’s beginning to sink in that the old man who has always been there will always be gone. It makes me feel . . . feel . . . guilty. I’ve always treated him like the weird guy who rents the third floor. But he always treated my mom and me like his family. Which I guess we were. A family of misfits living under one crumbling roof. “I don’t know how I’m doing,” I say to my mom. She nods, squeezes my hand. At the podium, Aunt Marty continues. “Fay would like to invite anyone who wants to remember Mr. Arthur to step up and say a few words.” With that, she sits on the other side of Frankie. The flutist begins again. And no one budges. Were they waiting for the “family” to go first? As if reading my mind, Aunt Marty gives me a little nod. Before I can move, Mr. Perwit rises and walks up to the podium. 175
- Page 131 and 132: ultimate ego trip.” Caressing my
- Page 133 and 134: oth heart and soul. Trust me. That
- 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: emember most about Mr. Arthur. It d
- Page 185 and 186: of the talking.” Then she added,
- Page 187 and 188: my head: For fourteen years, I’ve
- Page 189 and 190: As I look at my mother standing the
- Page 191 and 192: This year, three weeks after Mr. Ar
- Page 193 and 194: last pool of syrup with my last for
- Page 195 and 196: much smaller) head. “So do I.”
- Page 197 and 198: WE HAVE ONE LAST FAMILY DINNER—TH
- Page 199 and 200: makeup somehow remains perfect), Au
- Page 201 and 202: in Dover Mall as often as Mom will
- Page 203 and 204: “Hey,” he says to me, nodding a
- Page 206 and 207: ETERNAL THANKS TO THE AMAZING Amand
- Page 208 and 209: THE SERIOUS KISS PRETTY FACE
- Page 210 and 211: Copyright PERFECT GIRL. Copyright
Perry rolls his eyes. He leans close to me and says,<br />
“Tonight is ideal for viewing Saturn. If you want to hang<br />
out.”<br />
“I’ll be home, Ruthie, if you want to spend the night,”<br />
Celeste says, giving Perry a nasty look.<br />
I find myself cracking a smile. Things are normal in one<br />
area at least. My friends are still in the same old loop.<br />
Up at the podium, Aunt Marty says, “Could everyone<br />
please take a seat.”<br />
Perry sits next to his mom; Celeste and Frankie sit on<br />
either side of me. Mr. Arthur’s service begins while my<br />
mother is still inside the house.<br />
“Fay has asked me to thank all of you for coming<br />
today,” Aunt Marty says. “We’re here to remember Randolf<br />
Eugene Arthur, a man I’ve been lucky enough to come to<br />
know in the past few weeks. Mr. Arthur, as everyone called<br />
him, didn’t want a religious ceremony. So we’re here to<br />
remember his life and say good-bye.”<br />
Suddenly, with a creak, the screen door opens. My<br />
mother steps out into the garden. Everyone turns to look.<br />
She’s wearing her best dress—a chocolate-brown linen<br />
sheath she bought on sale the same day I got my navy-blue<br />
dress. I hurry over to her, escort her to the front row.<br />
Frankie moves sideways one seat, and my mom sits on my<br />
left, with Celeste on my right.<br />
“Are you all right?” Mom quietly asks me.<br />
174
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