The Pretty One(69)

“And I think…I’m pretty sure he likes me, too.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Well, he cast me in the play when I know for a fact there were better actresses. And last night he brought me flowers…and he told me I was the prettiest girl in the school.”

“The prettiest girl in the school? Well…that is nice,” my mom says simply.

Excusez-moi? Nice? It’s obvious my mom thinks Drew is full of crap. I’m silent for a minute. “Why would he say that if he didn’t like me?”

My mom sighs and gives me one of her “kindly” smiles. “You don’t really know this boy yet.”

“He’s not the type of guy to give out compliments he doesn’t mean.”

“I’m sure he does think you’re the prettiest girl in school. But he doesn’t really know you. Not yet, at least.”

Oh, I get it. “So once he gets to know me, he’ll run screaming for the hills. Is that it? Because I may not look like an ugly duckling but inside I’m still the same old nasty—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” My mom puts her hand on top of mine. “Where is this coming from?”

“I’m just tired of this! First Lucy, then Simon, now you. The only person around here who seems excited about me and my new life is Dad!”

“That’s not true, Megan. I am excited for you. Your new face…well, you’ve been given a wonderful opportunity. But I just don’t want to see you get hurt or—”

“Or what?”

“Or lose sight of who you are and what’s important.”

“What’s important is that the guy who I’ve loved forever seems to feel the same way about me, too.” I grab a tissue and blow my nose. I’d really like to prove to my mom that she’s totally, completely wrong about Drew, that what we have is the real deal, that he loves me sincerely and totally and couldn’t care less what I look like—but I can’t. And I can’t because at least twenty-eight percent of me thinks she might have a point. “And I’m sorry. But if that makes Lucy and Simon hate my guts, so be it.”

“Simon? Why should he care?”

“Because of my new face and this wonderful opportunity, he’s decided he wants to be my boyfriend now. He gave me the ultimatum: all or nothing.”

My mom winces.

“How do I tell my best friend that the thought of being his girlfriend grosses me out?”

“Maybe you can be honest with him without mentioning the grosses-you-out part.”

“And what about Lucy? She hates me.”

“Lucy may be mad at you, but she certainly doesn’t hate you.”

“You’re wrong, Mom. She not only hates me, she can’t stand the sight of me.”

“Come on, now. I know you’re upset, but you don’t really believe that, do you?” My mother takes a sip of her coffee while she pauses a moment to gather her thoughts. “You know, Lucy told me about what happened at the dance last year, and all the hurtful things she’d said.”

My mom and I have never spoken about the moments leading up to the accident. At first I was too injured to talk, and by the time I could, it didn’t seem to matter anymore. After all, Lucy was so upset and obviously trying very hard to make it all up to me. There didn’t seem to be any point in dredging it up again.

“Lucy relieved that moment over and over again. The whole time you were in the hospital, she slept on the floor of our room. She woke up screaming in the middle of the night, she couldn’t eat, her grades suffered, she completely dropped out of the theater program…all because…” My mom takes a deep breath. “She didn’t want to leave your side. She was haunted by the thought that she could have lost you.” Mom’s eyes get all teary. “We all were.”

I take a tissue and blow my nose. I have never heard about Lucy’s nightmares, and although I remember thinking that she looked really skinny, I didn’t know that she stopped eating and slept on the floor of my parents’ room. And I have to say, the news makes me feel horrible and wonderful at the same time. I’m totally relieved to hear how much she loves me, but I feel awful that my sister has suffered because of me.

My mom sighs long and deep. She stands up and gives me a hug. Even though I’m normally not the huggy-feely type, I rest my head on her shoulder as my nose drips on her shirt.

“Oh, Megan. What you’re experiencing now…all this attention…anyone would be having a difficult time. I know you’re doing the best you can. All I’m saying is that you need to be careful. I have the feeling a lot of boys are going to be proclaiming their love. Some will be sincere and some won’t. You’ll have to decide which one is which. And it’s not going to be easy.”

And then she tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and gives me the same kind smile she always gives me when she’s trying to convince me that things will be all right. “I know things seem complicated right now, but everything will work out in the long run. You’ll see.”

As I look at my mom, I do my best to smile even though I have a feeling she’s dead wrong.





twenty-three

morality play (noun): a type of theatrical allegory in which the protagonist is met by personifications of various moral attributes who try to prompt him to choose a godly life over one of evil.