by Robin Palmer
“Actually, I love my room at home,” I replied, accenting the word “home.” “I have this iron bed that we found on Craigslist that’s covered with a ton of pillows that have all sorts of neat covers, and last year Mom said we could repaint it and I chose this really pretty lilac. A soft one, because Mom said if it was too bright, it would keep me up at night, and—”
“That sounds really nice, Avery,” he said, cutting me off.
I wasn’t even done yet.
“But is it as big as your room here, though?” he asked.
“I wouldn’t know because I haven’t seen it.”
He looked surprised. “Lana didn’t show you your room?”
“The girls were so deep into bonding that I didn’t want to break the moment,” Lana said.
Bonding. Right. They were bonding to their phones, but not with me.
“Well, let’s go see it, then,” he said.
I followed him upstairs.
“This is Sammi’s room,” he announced as I peeked in. It was cute. A purple beanbag chair. A canopy bed with a rainbow comforter. Books and toys kind of organized, but not really.
We kept walking. “And this is Kayley’s.”
If Sammi’s was fun and sweet and inviting, Kayley’s was the exact opposite. It was serious and not a place where you’d want to hang out. Even the bed looked uncomfortable. Everything was navy and white, and the covers were pulled tight, and there were no messy piles on her desk, like on mine. In fact, there were no piles, period.
“It looks very . . . neat,” I said. That was the best I could come up with.
“Yeah. Kayley is very . . . serious about her neatness.”
No kidding.
Next to it was Cassie’s room. If Seventeen did a photo spread of the perfect teenage girl’s room, this would be it. Big TV. Closet full of clothes and shoes. Bulletin board covered with pictures of her hugging various friends, having a great time.
“And this . . . ,” my dad said when we turned to the room across the hall, “is your room!”
It was big, that was for sure. And the fact that it was so big made it all that much more disappointing when I saw how it had been decorated. I didn’t know what my dad had told Lana about me, but it had to have been something along the lines that I was a very frilly girl. There were ruffles everywhere: on the bed, on the curtains—even on the towels that were laid out neatly on the bed.
“Don’t you just love it?” he asked excitedly.
“I . . . wow—look at these curtains. They’re so . . . pink,” I replied. I hadn’t answered the question, but I didn’t want to lie.
He smiled. “That’s because I told her pink is your favorite color.”
It was . . . back when I was four.
He looked at his watch. “We should get going. I told your mom I’d have you back by five.”
When I went to say good-bye, Lana said, “If you’re free on Saturday, I was thinking we could go look for your bridesmaid dresses.”
Oh boy. I could only imagine what that would be like. “Sure. Sounds great.” I made sure to make my smile extra big.
“Terrific. I’ll text you about a time.” She hugged me. “I hope you like your room.” She leaned in. “We had decided on a budget for all of your rooms, but I went a little over with yours,” she whispered.
I knew that was supposed to make me feel special, but it just made me feel worse. “You didn’t have to do that,” I said.
“I know. I just wanted to make sure you feel extra comfortable when you’re here. So it’ll be just as much of a home for you as your other home.”
Ugh. Now I felt even worse.
When we got into the car, my dad started with the talking-nonstop thing again. This time it was about his new job, and the country club they had just joined, and the great schools that the girls had gotten into. Finally I couldn’t take it anymore.
“Dad.”
“Oh, and did I mention where we’re going on our honeymoon? Italy! I can’t wait—”
“Dad,” I said louder.
He looked over at me, surprised. I hadn’t meant for it to come out so sharply.
“Sorry,” I said.
“What is it, Avery?”
My face was hot. “It’s just . . . do you think we could talk about something other than your life and how great the girls are?” I blurted out.
He looked embarrassed. “I didn’t realize—”
Now that I had opened my mouth, I couldn’t stop. “I barely see you for years, and when I do, it’s all about your new family.”
“I’m sorry for being so insensitive. What would you like to talk about, then?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know.”
We drove in silence for a bit. Which was almost as bad as hearing him go on and on about the girls.
Finally I spoke. “Do you even know what grade I’m going into?”
“Of course I do!” he said defensively. “You’re going into . . . sixth.”
“I’m going into seventh,” I corrected.
He looked embarrassed. “I’m sorry.”
After that I didn’t say anything. I just spent the rest of the drive staring out the window.
* * *
When I told Mom at dinner (Indian food, our favorite) about my conversation with my dad, she was really proud of me.
“It takes a lot of courage to tell someone how you feel like that,” she said as she put some more saag paneer on her plate. Lucky for her, I didn’t like it because it had spinach in it, which meant she got to eat the whole thing. And lucky for me, she didn’t like chickpeas, which meant that I could have all of the chana masala. “I’m glad you cleared the air. How do you feel?”
I ripped off a piece of naan, which is this yummy bread, and thought about it as I chewed. “I feel like . . . my stomach doesn’t hurt anymore,” I said after I swallowed.
Mom nodded. “Because you didn’t keep your feelings inside.”
I dipped some of the bread in some raita, which is a yogurt-y sauce with cucumbers in it. “But I feel like things are even more awkward now.”
“Well, sometimes that’s part of the process,” she explained. “The important thing is that you spoke your truth. You can’t go wrong with that.” She reached over and pushed my bangs out of my eyes. “Sweetheart, it’s going to take a while for you and your dad to establish more of a relationship. It’s not going to happen overnight.”
I sighed. “I know.” I think he was so embarrassed about not knowing what grade I was in that when we got to my house, he didn’t even ask to come inside. Which, frankly, was fine with me. “But what about Cassie and them? How do I deal with them?”
“Well, if it were me, I think I’d just keep—”
“Being the bigger person?” I interrupted before she could say it.
“Yeah.”
I sighed. “I have been. And it’s not working.”
“Give it another shot on Saturday when you go dress shopping,” she suggested. “I think you need to remember that they’re probably just as nervous about this new family as you are.”
“Somehow I have a hard time believing Cassie gets nervous.”
She reached over to my plate and tore off a piece of naan. “You never know. Sometimes it’s the ones who are the most put together on the outside who are the most frightened on the inside.”
* * *
My something-new and something-old ideas might have been shot down by Kayley and Cassie, but as Saturday got closer, I felt more and more confident that there was no way they wouldn’t be impressed when they saw my shopping skills.
My talent for finding treasures at garage sales carried over to malls as well. All the hours Lexi and I had spent there had made it so that I could walk into a store and within five minutes have at least ten items in my arms to try on, seven of which would be yeses. If I could find the perfect dress for us to wear, maybe the BBs would start treating me more like a sister and less like some stray cat that had shown up at their house that
their mother was forcing them to be nice to because she was way into rescuing animals, like Lexi’s mom.
Mom dropped me off at the mall a little early on Saturday so she could get to yoga on time. Actually, she dropped me off early so she could get another cup of coffee before yoga. Because yoga was supposed to relax you and coffee made you all jittery, it seemed to defeat the purpose, but when I mentioned that a while back, I got “A Look” meant That’s enough, Avery, so I didn’t bring it up again.
Because I had some time before Lana and the BBs got there, I decided to go to Starbucks and get us all drinks to keep up our energy while shopping. I put a lot of thought into ordering (much to the annoyance of the people behind me), finally settling on Caramel Ribbon Crunch Frappuccinos. I wanted the BBs to know that I had good taste not only in clothes, but in drinks as well.
I was sitting next to the fountain with the tray of drinks a few minutes later, trying not to spill mine on my light-blue T-shirt that said “Best” (Lexi had a matching one that said “Friend”), when they walked up.
“Hey, Avery,” Lana said warmly as she hugged me. She had the same perfume on as she had the other day, and it smelled just as good. Mom didn’t believe in perfume—she said that she was quite happy wearing eau de life. Which, not surprisingly, smelled a lot like coffee.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Cassie and Kayley share an eye roll. Kind of like me and Lexi had done when Anna Mercer waved her arm wildly during history to answer every question that Mr. Mahoney asked. It wasn’t my fault that Lana was being so nice to me.
Once she let go, I turned to the three of them. “Hey,” I said with a big smile. I wasn’t going to let them get to me. At least, that’s what I had said to the mirror over and over this morning as I got dressed.
“Hi!” Sammi replied with her own smile. Until she glanced over at her sisters and saw that they were looking at me like I was a dog who had just gotten sprayed by a skunk. Then her smile dimmed.
Cassie looked me up and down. “I can see you went all out with your outfit today.”
I looked down at the jean miniskirt I had paired with the T-shirt. “What’s wrong with a T-shirt and miniskirt?”
She shrugged. “Nothing . . . if you’re, like, hanging out in your room watching TV.” They, on the other hand, had gone all out with their outfits. Cassie was wearing a blue-and-black-print maxidress, and Kayley was in really nice jeans and a tank top that was edged with rhinestones. Even Samantha—who was a bit of a tomboy—was in a T-shirt and flowered skirt.
I felt my face turn red as Kayley laughed. “I like to be comfortable when I shop,” I replied tightly as I took in the heels that Cassie had on. “It’s my favorite form of exercise.”
“Oh, I agree on the comfort thing,” Lana said. She pointed at her own shoes—a pair of perfectly white Keds that looked like they didn’t know what the word “dirt” meant. “So are you ready to do some shopping, Avery?” she asked. She sounded like a game show host who was super hopeful that the contestants wanted to play.
“Definitely,” I replied. I pointed to Forever 21. “I don’t know where you were thinking we should start, but I noticed the other day that they have a lot of leftover prom dresses in there.”
Cassie’s face scrunched up like she had just sucked on a lemon. “A prom dress as a bridesmaid dress?” She snorted. “As if.”
“Totally,” Kayley agreed.
They looked at Samantha.
“Right,” she added quickly. “Totally as if.”
“Some of them are super fancy,” I retorted. “Especially with the right jewelry.” The bridesmaid dresses I had seen in magazines were all so boring looking. At least something from Forever 21 would be interesting. Plus, I was all about mixing things up. Like how I used a cat dish from Petco with a crown on it to hold some of my jewelry.
“Not to mention Forever 21 is so—” Cassie started to say.
“So what?” I demanded. “Isn’t that purple shirt you were wearing when I was over your house the other day from there? I’m pretty sure I saw it in the store window when I walked by this week.”
Her face got red. “Yes, but I wouldn’t buy a bridesmaid dress there.”
Lana gave her a look and turned back to me. “Avery, I think that sounds like a really creative idea . . .”
I brightened. At least someone here didn’t think I was a total loser.
“. . . but I was thinking we’d try Saks first and see if they had something that worked.”
“Saks Fifth Avenue?” I asked. I had been in there only once, when I had to pee so bad after drinking a giant lemonade slushy from the food court that I could barely walk. When I saw that a pair of socks cost fifty bucks, I got so nervous that I ran out of there as fast as I could. Mom explained to me that the reason they were so expensive was because they were made out of cashmere. Even if they were made out of gold, fifty dollars was a lot of money for something that was just going to end up smelling.
“No. Saks Third Avenue,” Cassie replied.
“That’s enough, Cassie,” Lana snapped as she shot her a look. She made sure to put her smile back on before turning to me. “Because it’s such a special occasion, I thought we could splurge.” Dad had already told Mom that he’d pay for my dress.
“Oh, I love Saks. I go there all the time,” I lied. I just hoped no one would ask me where the juniors department was. I picked up the tray of drinks. “I got these for us.”
“That was so thoughtful of you,” Lana said.
“Yeah,” Cassie agreed. “It was.”
I couldn’t believe it! Finally I had done something right in Cassie’s mind.
“Too bad with all your experience in stores like Saks you forgot that you can’t bring drinks in there,” she went on.
“You can’t? I don’t remember seeing a sign last time I was there . . . ,” I said. I knew I hadn’t, because I’d still had some of my lemonade left and didn’t want to throw it out, so I had looked.
“It’s just something that people who shop in those kinds of places know is a faux pas,” Kayley added.
I wasn’t sure what that meant, but I had a feeling it wasn’t good.
Lana looked at her watch. “Unfortunately, we don’t have a lot of time, so we can’t really hang out here and drink them. But I’m sure we’ll need something when we’re done, so we can get more then.” She picked up the tray. “I’ll bring them back to Starbucks. Maybe the baristas would like them.”
“It’s okay—I’ll do it,” I said quickly, taking the tray from her. “I’ll be right back.”
But instead of going to Starbucks, I walked over to Claire’s and offered the drinks to the salesgirls there. Claire’s was my second-favorite store in the mall after Forever 21. Obviously, I preferred making my own jewelry, but I had gotten a lot of stuff from there as well.
Like anyone would be, they were psyched to have four free Frappuccinos and told me how nice I was to think of them. (Not a bad thing to have the people who worked at a store you went to a lot think you were nice and generous.) The fifth drink I held on to because there was no way I was throwing mine out. After looking at Cassie’s sour puss all this time, I needed something sweet. Standing near the entrance of the store, I peered out to make sure they were all still at the fountain. Then I checked to make sure the lid was on tight and stuck the drink in my bag.
“All set?” Lana asked when I got back to the fountain.
“Yup,” I said with a smile, clutching my bag tightly. Luckily, I had brought my tote bag that had a map of Paris on it that day. It was one of my better garage sale finds, and the fact that it was a tall bag with a snap on top made it so I could fit the drink in it and no one could see inside.
As we walked through Saks to the formal-wear department, I saw that it wasn’t just their socks that were expensive—everything was. I saw one dress with a price tag for two thousand dollars! But I had to admit that I could understand why it all cost so much—everything was super beautiful. Plus, you could te
ll it wasn’t going to fall apart in the washing machine like a lot of the stuff from Forever 21 and H&M.
Lana told us that we should each pick out two dresses that we liked, and we’d all try them on and vote. I actually found, like, five dresses I liked, but I didn’t want to be greedy. Even though Lana said not to worry about the price, I made sure not to choose something more than two hundred dollars. Kayley, on the other hand, seemed to think her new last name was going to be Kardashian—one of the dresses she chose was five hundred dollars. When Lana saw the price tag, she immediately ordered her to put it back. Which was a good thing, because all the tulle on it made it so poufy we would have looked like a family of ungraceful ballerinas.
After we all chose our dresses, the saleswoman brought us back to a lounge area, where she spread the eight dresses out on the couches and seats that were out there so we could see them side by side.
“Well, we’ve got a real cross-section of styles here,” she announced, trying to sound excited but sounding bored instead. Like a lot of the people who worked there, she was dressed all in black with very high heels. Between her shoes and the way her blond hair was pulled back into such a tight bun, I could understand why she barely smiled—she was probably in a ton of pain.
Just looking at the dresses, you could see how different our tastes were. Both of Cassie’s dresses had so much beading that they must have weighed thirty pounds each. Kayley’s were more appropriate for a funeral than a wedding because they were both black. Sammi—maybe because she was sick of Cassie yelling at her to hurry up—had picked two that looked like you’d wear them to work in an office job.
Cassie pointed to the fuchsia minidress with hibiscuses splashed across it that I had chosen. “Does that one come with sunglasses?” she asked innocently. Kayley giggled.
I gave her a dirty look. Although I was trying my hardest to suck it up and not let her get to me, I was at the point where I couldn’t handle much more. Especially because when I showed Lana my other choice—a turquoise silk shift that had little pearls on the spaghetti straps and neckline—I heard Kayley whisper to Cassie that it looked like a nightgown.