Where the Staircase Ends(26)

“Stop talking shit about my dog. She’s not retarded, she’s just excitable.” She gave us both a dark look even though Jenny was the one who doled out the insult. “Don’t you worry, Miss Violet Beauregard. The big bullies won’t hurt you. Nobody’s going to hurt my sweet girl. No they won’t. I won’t let them. Why don’t you go through your doggy door and play in the backyard, hmm? That’s a good girl. Who’s my sweet girl? Who’s my sweet, sweet girl?” She tossed a few dog biscuits through the flap in back door, then gently set the animal down so it could yip its way into the back yard. The dog’s lazy eye wobbled in my direction one final time before she slipped through the door.

“Where’s my drink?” Amber yelled, skirting past Sunny so she could grind against my backside like I was her date. It was obviously a question, but pretty much everything Amber said sounded like a question. Her voice tipped up at the end of every sentence, as though she was contemplating a riddle rather than making a statement. Like: “I’m having a really good day? The grass is green? My name is Amber? You have two legs and I have a face?”

“If you keep humping me like that you’re going to have to buy me a drink,” I said before turning to the rest of the group. “Start your livers, ladies!” I handed the drinks out as we all gathered in a circle and Sunny lead us in our standard pre-game toast.

“Here’s to the king!” she said.

“What king?” I asked.

“Fuh-king!” We all said in unison, clinking our glasses and sloshing some of the orange mixture onto the floor. Sunny hit play on her iPod, and we started dancing around the kitchen, swinging our hips and screaming song lyrics while we emptied our glasses. It was our customary start to any evening.

Jenny and Amber were already dressed in the standard uniform: black skirt and slinky top. Jenny, as usual, had crammed herself into a skirt and top two sizes too small, making her look like a Christmas ham shoved into a Ziploc sandwich bag. It’s not that Jenny was big per se, but her stocky frame and mound of brown curly hair made her look bigger than she really was. Her penchant for tight fitting, too-small clothes only exacerbated everything, forcing her to wobble and jiggle her way through a room as her limbs struggled against the constricting fabric.

Amber was Jenny’s exact opposite, so tall and willowy that a strong breeze could probably knock her over. She wore her long dark hair straight down her back, and her wide-set doe eyes made her look constantly surprised and/or perplexed. Sunny used to call her “the seashell,” swearing that if you pressed your ear against Amber’s ear you could hear the ocean. I used to think it was funny, too, until I found Amber crying in the parking lot after failing yet another test.

I was surprised Jenny and Amber weren’t totally pissed that it was almost nine o’clock and Sunny had yet to select her outfit, but they followed happily when she invited us all upstairs to help. I grumbled as I trailed behind them, mumbling my concerns about the time because Logan was waiting. Plus, I didn’t give a rat’s ass about Sunny’s ensemble for the evening, especially since I knew who the outfit was for. But I tried not to think about that given my vow to be cool about everything. Relax.

“I couldn’t pick which one I wanted, so I bought all three,” she said about the dresses laid across her bed. “Somebody left me high and dry to shop by myself yesterday, and I couldn’t decide on my own.” She gave me a pointed look.

“You should have called me,” cooed Jenny as she plopped down onto the massive stack of black and lavender pillows at the top of Sunny’s bed. “I totally would have joined. Next time Taylor ditches you should give me a call.”

Jenny flicked her eyes to where I was seated on the floor. I shifted my attention to my freshly painted nails, scratching at a place on my thumb where I’d painted outside the lines and onto my skin.

“Not that you needed us at all,” Jenny added, looking at the dresses like they were slices of birthday cake. “They’re all so cute. I don’t think I could have picked between them either. You did the right thing buying all of them.”


I fought the urge to stick my finger down my throat and barf on all three of them. Be cool, I reminded myself. Relax.

“That one is so cute,” said Jenny when Sunny twirled out of the bathroom in the first option. “You have to wear that one.”

Sunny wrinkled her nose at her reflection as she examined the clingy dress in the mirror. “Are you sure it doesn’t make me look fat?” She put her hand on her nonexistent stomach and turned to the side so we could all see.

“Stop calling yourself fat,” said Amber.

“Are you kidding? You’re so tiny!” Jenny fluffed her mound of dark curly hair and adjusted her shirt.

I kept my eyes down and continued picking at my nails, moving from my thumb to my index finger. The dark polish fluttered onto the wooden floor of Sunny’s bedroom.

The room had started to become fuzzy around the edges, the way it always did when my buzz kicked in. I was glad for the distraction from The Sunny Runway Show, but the spinning room combined with the competing perfumes wafting off of Jenny and Amber were giving me a headache.

“What do you think, Taylor?” she asked me, her voice taking on a pouty edge the way it always did when I ignored her. “Do you like this one?”