Perfect Girl - Weebly

I say, “A little gum wouldn’t hurt.”
While my friends fish through their packs for gum, I
swallow my guilt and wonder why I’m acting so bitchy.
Then, it hits me. After fourteen years of being the daughter
of the sperm donor, the sister of no one, the roommate of
Mr. Arthur—I’m now Ruthie Bayer, niece of Martine on
Men. She’s mine. I thought I wanted to share her. But I
don’t.
“Hey.” Perry nods his head as he passes by us.
Instantly, I flush. “Hey!” I reply. Though I try to sound
casual, “Hey” flies out of my mouth with an exclamation
point. I’m such a spaz.
“Hey, Jen,” I hear Perry say behind me.
My head spins around. Jenna Wilson emerges from a
crowd of kids like a blooming rosebud. She wears pink from
head to toe. Her flip-flops are even decorated with fuchsia
feathers. God, she’s so . . . so . . . girly. Looking at my brown
sandals, I feel like a truck driver. Even with my fresh pedi.
“Hey, Perry,” Perfect Girl says, with the perfect amount
of friendliness, calm, and dignity. She smiles. Her cheeks are
perfectly pink! My heart hits the floor.
Perry’s abbreviation of Jenna’s name feels like a stab
wound. Since when does he call her “Jen”? Since when does
he call her anything? And how does she know his name?
“Cute shorts,” Jenna says to me as she walks past.
Glancing down at my denim shorts from Target, I can’t tell
if she’s making fun of me or not.
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