Rock Bottom Girl(133)

She took another drag on her cigarette. I drank deeply from the Chardonnay.

“What about that goth princess Libby? Look what you did for her this semester,” Amie Jo said, breaking the silence. “You made a difference to her. You made her popular!”

“What you and Jake had together? That doesn’t come around often, and you’re my sister, and I love you, but you are a complete dumbass for ruining it,” Zinnia said, poking me in the shoulder.

“Hey!”

“You were happy, M,” my sister said. “Like really happy. And I kinda just want to push you out of this tree for not recognizing it.”

“Ugh. You push her out of the tree, and I’ll throw a wine bottle at her,” Amie Jo interjected. “He loves her for who she is. She doesn’t even bother with makeup or brushing her hair half the time, and Jake looks at her like she’s Gisele Bündchen in front of a camera. It’s disgusting.”

“Well, this is fun and all, but let’s focus on you two,” I suggested.

“You know, I think that’s the thing I hate about you most,” Amie Jo mused. “You don’t have to try. You don’t have to wear extensions and shoes that make you lose your toenails. You don’t have to spend six hours a week in a tanning bed afraid that your husband will leave you if you’re not tan enough. They all genuinely like you just for being you.”

“Yeah, no one is inviting you to black-tie affairs because you helped with their fundraising or raised their political profile,” Zinnia said, getting into the spirit.

“But you’re doing great things. Important things,” I reminded her.

“Ninety percent of what I do is ass-kissing. Is that great? Is that important? I’ve never had one person in my office look up to me the way all of those girls on your team look at you. They adore you. They respect you.”

“Just like Jake,” Amie Jo complained. “Do you know how hard I had to work senior year to make sure you two didn’t get together?”

“What?” I snapped.

“Remember how he asked you to Homecoming and changed his mind?” she said.

“He told you? Of course he told you. He said he changed his mind and was taking you. You were more his type.” My voice was two octaves higher than usual.

“Jake didn’t ask you to Homecoming. I did. And then I pretended to dump you for me,” Amie Jo insisted.

“You diabolical little—”

“I know, right?” she said, shimmying her shoulders. “People always underestimate a pretty face and nice boobs.”

Zinnia snort laughed. I’d never heard her do that before.

“Good thing you gave up so fast,” Amie Jo continued. “Otherwise you would have figured it out, started dating, fallen in love, and gotten married. Barf.”

It hit me in a wave of nausea and truth. How many times had I turned my back on what was good in life because I didn’t feel like I was good enough for it? How many times had I reminded myself that Jake was just going to change his mind about me again?

I’d been happy and loved. And then I’d fucked it all up. Big time. I loved Jake. I loved his arrogant confidence. His slovenly lifestyle. His commitment to his students. His doofy dog. His family. I loved that he made life better every single day for someone.

“You had what we all want,” Amie Jo told me.

“And then you threw it away,” Zinnia sighed. “If you weren’t my sister, I’d hate you.”

“You waltz into town, all mysterious and interesting,” Amie Jo complained. “And then you shit on everything that’s important to me.”

“Well, that’s a little uncalled for—”

“Popularity is a privilege. I was popular, and I’ve done everything in my power to make my boys popular. I’ve been picking their friends, overseeing their activities, and making sure everything they do cements their position in this world. And along comes Marley Cicero to ruin everything again just like Homecoming!” She opened the second wine bottle and swung it wildly.

“I’m not trying to ruin your life or your sons’ lives. I promise. I’m just trying to show everyone that respecting each other is more important than proving you’re better than everyone else.”

“But if everyone is popular and accepted, where does that leave my boys?”

“I don’t know. Happy? Well-adjusted? Ready to face the adult world with kind hearts?”

“Pfft! When you’re a mother—well, it’s too late for you. Your ovaries probably shut down years ago,” Amie Jo sniffed.

“Probably,” I agreed.

“But when you’re a mother, the only thing that matters is how well your kids turn out. They are a direct reflection of who you are as a human being. My kids are dumber than a box of rocks. All they have are their looks and their popularity.”

Not sure what to say, I patted her awkwardly on the shoulder as she swigged wine.

“I know what people say about me behind my back. I got knocked up in college. I married a man who could take care of me. I dress like I’m an off-duty stripper.”

“I never heard anyone say that,” I lied.

“They don’t understand how hard it is. Being a mom and a wife and working. I am hanging on by my damn fingernails here! And I don’t know why I’m telling you any of this. It’s not like you have any worries in life,” she complained.