Perfect Girl - Weebly
Perfect Girl - Weebly Perfect Girl - Weebly
WE SIT NEAR THE BACK OF THE BUS . . . OUR NORMAL SPOT. My heart is bursting out of my chest. This whole “Jen” thing is freaking me out. Do they have a class together? One that I’m not in? Did she sit next to him? Did he get up and move so he could sit next to her? I can barely breathe. Thank God Aunt Marty is here. 70
But—and this is a humongous but—after our pedicures over the weekend, Mom treated Aunt Marty like she was a serial killer or something. She never left us alone for a moment. Which totally sucks since there’s no way I’m going to tell my mother that I need time alone with her sister so she can help me snag a guy. Already, last night’s dinner was so tense it nearly snapped. “You don’t like my baked chicken?” Mom asked, her lips tight. “It’s tasty enough,” Aunt Marty replied. “I just prefer to use meat as a spice. A touch to jazz up my vegetables.” “You’re not eating your creamed corn, either.” “I’m not that hungry.” “What about the mashed potatoes?” “I try not to overload on carbs.” Mom scoffed. “Are you calling me fat?” “Of course not,” said Aunt Marty. “It’s just that corn is really more of a bread than a vegetable.” “Is that what they say in New York? Out here, cornbread is a bread.” Mom’s lips were now pressed so tightly together her mouth was a hyphen at the bottom of her face. “Bet you didn’t know that Delaware was once filled with five million peach trees,” Mr. Arthur piped up, oblivious as usual. “I do remember something about that,” Aunt Marty said, smiling warmly at him. Then she turned to Mom and 71
- Page 27 and 28: ping powerhouse, Odessa, Delaware,
- Page 29 and 30: when I’m in love with a boy who h
- Page 31 and 32: four, but it felt like forty. We le
- Page 33 and 34: a giant looping ramp. Suddenly, I s
- Page 35 and 36: and Destruction” lectures. “Eve
- Page 37 and 38: Before I could figure out what to s
- Page 39 and 40: I laughed, too. Tried to look as ca
- Page 41 and 42: “Do you have these in red?” she
- Page 43 and 44: what everyone else did. “These cr
- Page 45 and 46: sure they’d been ironed. Everythi
- Page 47 and 48: in front of other males, about not
- Page 49 and 50: “WE CAME ALL THIS WAY FOR A DAY ?
- Page 51 and 52: “Who told you?” my mother asked
- Page 53 and 54: The last thing I saw were Aunt Mart
- Page 55 and 56: Far back in the corner of my closet
- Page 57 and 58: emember it. Like the soft, warm com
- Page 59 and 60: asking Aunt Marty for advice about
- Page 61 and 62: un both hands down the front of her
- Page 63 and 64: Mom is speechless. Her hair is a kn
- Page 65 and 66: She slams the freezer door shut in
- Page 67 and 68: WE’RE TOO LATE. BY THE TIME I BRI
- Page 69 and 70: “We have company!” he exclaims.
- Page 71 and 72: ack). He’d round a corner, wearin
- Page 73 and 74: I’d say, “Sure,” without worr
- Page 75 and 76: I wiggle my freshly painted toenail
- Page 77: “Thanks,” I say, calling after
- 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
But—and this is a humongous but—after our pedicures<br />
over the weekend, Mom treated Aunt Marty like she was a<br />
serial killer or something. She never left us alone for a<br />
moment. Which totally sucks since there’s no way I’m going<br />
to tell my mother that I need time alone with her sister so<br />
she can help me snag a guy. Already, last night’s dinner was<br />
so tense it nearly snapped.<br />
“You don’t like my baked chicken?” Mom asked, her lips<br />
tight.<br />
“It’s tasty enough,” Aunt Marty replied. “I just prefer to<br />
use meat as a spice. A touch to jazz up my vegetables.”<br />
“You’re not eating your creamed corn, either.”<br />
“I’m not that hungry.”<br />
“What about the mashed potatoes?”<br />
“I try not to overload on carbs.”<br />
Mom scoffed. “Are you calling me fat?”<br />
“Of course not,” said Aunt Marty. “It’s just that corn is<br />
really more of a bread than a vegetable.”<br />
“Is that what they say in New York? Out here, cornbread<br />
is a bread.”<br />
Mom’s lips were now pressed so tightly together her<br />
mouth was a hyphen at the bottom of her face.<br />
“Bet you didn’t know that Delaware was once filled with<br />
five million peach trees,” Mr. Arthur piped up, oblivious as<br />
usual.<br />
“I do remember something about that,” Aunt Marty<br />
said, smiling warmly at him. Then she turned to Mom and<br />
71
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