My Faire Lady 1 FRIDAY "Rowena! Are you home?" Normally, the sound of my mother''s voice would have been enough motivation to get me to turn off the talk show I was watching and get off of the couch. Normally, I would have grabbed a book or picked up some sort of cleaning supply and acted like I was busy learning or making myself useful around the house. Today there''s no reason to even fake it, though. I haven''t moved since this morning. I''m still in the pajamas I wore to sleep, I haven''t bothered to run a brush through my hair, and the bowl of cereal my mother set in front of me before leaving for work is untouched. The multigrain rings have swollen up to three times their normal size. There''s a disgusting amount of used tissues scattered all around me-evidence of the many times I''ve burst into tears today. I lift my head but don''t move my eyes from the TV.
"In here." My mom appears in the doorway. She''s impeccable as always, with her curls pinned back into a tight chignon and a suit that I''m sure looked impressive to the members of the jury she spoke in front of today. Out of the corner of my eye I see her shoulders sink. "Ro . this is the fourth day you haven''t moved from that couch." Yep. Four long, horrible days since finding out my boyfriend was cheating on me with another girl.
A freshman girl. Dante may have failed to mention it, but finding out your boyfriend is cheating on you with a freshman is definitely the Tenth Circle of Hell. "You''re home early," I say, half annoyed and half glad. "The case got postponed." Just then a fight breaks out on screen and I point at it. A woman is getting in a man''s face, screaming about what a liar he is. The show''s security guard has moved behind them, at the ready if it should come to blows. "This girl''s boyfriend cheated on her, too.
" My mother doesn''t move to look at the TV, so I feel the need to show my solidarity. I shake my fist at the screen. "That''s right! Tell him what a scumbag he is!" My mother sighs so loudly that it sounds like she''s deflating. Then she walks into the room, plucks the remote from the coffee table, and turns the TV off. "Rowena," she begins, sitting on the couch, close to my head. "I know he hurt you, but lying here watching trash isn''t going to help. You need to get out. Hang out with Meg and Kara.
See a movie. Head to the mall." I let out a frustrated groan and do my best to bury my head, ostrich style, in the pillows of the couch. "I can''t go to the mall. Kyle will be there. With her." "Even better," my mother says brightly. She pets my head.
"It''s like your father always says. You can''t keep a Duncan down. Do your hair and put on a cute top and go have a good time. Show him that you''re just fine without him." I look up at my mother. "But I''m not just fine without him." My mother''s smile is pitying, and she takes a moment before she responds, her voice soft. "I know.
But sometimes we have to pretend until it''s true. Besides, lying on the couch for four days is-" "Undignified?" I finish for her, thinking of another thing my father always says: A Duncan is always polite and dignified. "Unhealthy," Mom says. "And I hate to say it, but you start at TK''s next week. You''re going to have to face the mall sooner or later." TK''s. That elicits another groan. I''d totally forgotten about TK''s, my summer job.
Before the rumor that wrecked my life, and consequently, the confirmation of said rumor from my now ex-boyfriend, TK''s seemed like the best job ever. Just like last summer, I am going to be a waitress for the tiki-themed restaurant where the only uniform is jeans, a Hawaiian shirt, and a lei. The problem is that TK''s is inside the mall, and there''s no way I won''t run into Kyle there all summer long. Our town is small and mostly quiet, so the only places for us to hang out are the mall, the beach, and sometimes, just for a little variety, the parking lot of the mall, if we don''t get in trouble for loitering. And TK''s is popular as well. There''s a luau every Friday night, and loads of people come in to see the ukelele player and drink sugary drinks out of fake coconuts. The thought of seeing Kyle with his new girlfriend, Lacey, makes my stomach do an unsettling flip, and I look up at my mom. "Do I have to work this summer?" "You know the Deal.
You''ve got to pitch in for college." The Deal, all part of my father''s great plan to instill me with some sort of work ethic. I nod to my mother, but allow myself one last indulgent whine. "I just don''t want to see him with her ." "I know how much you liked the Anderson boy, Ro, but there are other fish in the sea." With that statement, my mother confirms exactly how much she doesn''t know what she''s talking about. He''s not just the "Anderson boy," the son of the town''s pharmacist, he was my boyfriend for over a year. He was the romantic boy who asked permission before our first kiss, the thoughtful boy who would whisper with me on the phone until the early morning so we wouldn''t wake our parents, the cute lacrosse player who took me to junior prom.
He was so, so much more than just "the Anderson boy." I guess now, he''s also the first boy to break my heart. My mother jolts me out of my thoughts with a pat on my arm. "Come on, Ro. Get up. Shower. When you''re finished, you can help me start dinner for tonight." When I don''t immediately move, my mom issues a threat.
"If you don''t, I''m going to call Kara and Meg and have them come over and get you up." Talk about motivation. Kara and Meg are my two best friends in the world, but their methods are devious. They''d come over and be as obnoxious as possible to get me off this couch, and they are gold medalists in being obnoxious. I''m up and moving so fast that I practically knock my mother off the couch. I hear her chuckling to herself as I head up the stairs to the shower. The shower washes away the funk I''ve been accumulating for the past few days, and a good portion of my sour mood, too. It''s not enough to make me want to do my hair and head to the mall, but it''s enough that I continue my effort to look a little better.
I take out my giant box of nail polishes and open it, sinking back into the big pillows on my bed. Before a particular shade can catch my eye, an instant message dings on my laptop, which is sitting on my desk. I flip over onto my stomach and pull the laptop toward me. Briansgurl: how are you? we''re worried. I smile at Kara''s message and type back. CrazyCurls27: I''m ok. Briansgurl: are you lying? CrazyCurls27: Is Meg with you? Briansgurl: this IS meg! i''ve taken over Kara''s computer. don''t avoid the question.
are you lying or not? CrazyCurls27: Not lying. Briansgurl: then you should come out tonight. we haven''t seen you since you broke up with Jerkface McGee. CrazyCurls27: Nah. I''m helping Mom with dinner later. You guys have fun. I''m going to paint my toenails. I know.
I''m super exciting. Briansgurl: OK, but mall monday? it''s our last day of freedom before we become TK slaves! CrazyCurls27: No mall. NO. I would freak if I saw them. Briansgurl: um . CrazyCurls27: What? There''s a pause in our conversation. CrazyCurls27: WHAT Meg??? Briansgurl: kyle''s taking HER to six flags monday. but that means the mall''s safe! I blink at the screen.
I don''t know how many times I suggested to Kyle that we go to Six Flags together, and every time he had some excuse. He had practice, he had to work for his dad, it was too cold, it was too hot. Funny how all those things don''t seem to matter now. I clench my teeth and type back to Meg. CrazyCurls27: OK. Mall. Monday. See you then! I log off before she can type back, and push the computer away, my gaze drifting back to the nail polish colors in my box.
A perky bubblegum pink catches my eye, so I start with my big toe, jabbing the brush at it a little angrily. As a result, the paint job looks bad when I''m done. Kind of awful, really, as if I''ve forgotten every single lesson Mrs. Robertson ever taught me in art class. She''d probably be appalled that my brushstrokes look so jagged, but that''s how I''ve felt since Kyle said, "I''m sorry, Ro. I like someone else." Jagged. Like all my edges are rough and sharp.
I look back to my big toe and the awesomely bad job I''ve done painting it. Maybe pink isn''t my color. Red is more suited to my current emotional state. As in, "When Rowena Duncan heard that her boyfriend had been seeing a freshman cheerleader behind her back, she saw red." Yep, red is the way to go. I pick out a garish candy-apple color from my box and move on to the next toe, whispering to myself, "A freshman. She''s not even that pretty." I wiggle my toes and admire my handiwork.
The red looks much better than the pink, as far as technique goes. The two colors look good next to each other, too. Like a valentine. Which of course makes me think of Kyle. Last Valentine''s Day he sent me pink roses during school, so I got to carry them around all day, bragging.