Another eye roll, another puffed-out sigh, before Nellie lowered herself to talk to Charleigh. “It’s thatnewgirl. Jane. She’s just like”—Nellie’s hands flailed around her face—“already the center of attention and everything. I didn’t even get into the water tonight. Left before anyone could even see me.”
“Well, that’sridiculous,” Charleigh offered. “She’s not even in your same league, honey. You shouldn’t let it bother you so much.”
Nellie wrenched her knees closer to her body, began rocking. Eyed Charleigh warily, as though to ask,Why should I trust you?
“That’s the thing: She hasnothing, so why is she so popular?” Nellie’s voice was a live wire sparking through the air. She hopped up then, bounded from the bed, started prowling around the spacious room. A balloon with the air just let out of it. At least she was talking to Charleigh. “She’s alreadyruiningmy summer! She’s, like, all free-spirited and slutty and gross, but everyone’s obsessed with her!” Nellie was nearly shouting.
Charleigh rose and clapped her hands down on her daughter’s shoulders. Combed her brain for the exact right words, the only words that would work magic on Nellie. “Now, you listen to me. Calm down. Whoever this little Jane bitch is, I’ll take care of her.”
5
Nellie
I’ve been awake for an hour, but I’m still in bed, under the covers, stewing over the scene at the swimming hole last night.
Jane fucking Swift.
Ugh.
The sun smolders behind my thick curtains, the latest from Laura Ashley.
My whole room is done in this print—a cream-colored pattern with vines climbing vertically, green stalks dotted with red poppies.
Mom just had my whole room remodeled. By Jackson, of course.
There she was, dressed in overalls, hair twisted in a high ponytail, actually helping Jackson’s crew strip the old, yellowing wallpaper, her bright voice bouncing off my walls as they worked, grating in my ears.
I swear she did it just so she could look cute in those overalls,impress Jackson—and Dad. Remind them she comes from tough stock, because she sure as shit doesn’t dirty her perfectly manicured hands that often anymore. Also, to burn off some of that manic, demonic energy.
Sigh. She’sexhausting.
They worked in there all day, her fingernails chipped and shredded as she peeled off the husks of paper. That flawless face dusted with a fine coat of powder from the drywall.
I yank back the curtains, lift my window, the aluminum frame screeching as I do.
From the pocket of my robe, I dig out my pack of Marlboro 100s. Light one, take a stinging drag, spew the smoke down toward the pool.
Mom’s laugh assaults my ears, barking out of her, loud and needy. She’s such a sight, holding on to Jackson by his elbow, her actual lipstick prints on his butt cheeks, I’m sure of it.
But he needs her, too.
Needs our money.
She disgusts me. Embarrasses me. She’s embarrassingherselfthe way she throws herself at him, at others.
I smoke and watch them, eavesdropping on their gag-me-with-a-spoon conversation about how to decorate the house for Mom’s Bunco night. It’s hideous.
But I’m the pathetic one, really, because I don’t have anything better to do. Not now and not all day. Everyone is probably already at Blair Chambers’s house. It’s not as expensive or huge as mine, but it’shers. She runs everything in this town; she’s mylifelong nemesis. She’s everything I’m not: tall, beautiful, a platinum blond with sheet-straight hair. Popular.
She was at the dock last night, too. Ofcourseshe was. She’s probably the one who invited Jane out there to the swimming hole. And I’m sure Jane has already been invited over to her pool, that she’s there today, lying out with the others, flipping throughTeenmagazine.
Blair and I started out as friends in kindergarten, but when we got to elementary, she turned on me, dumped me. Or tried to, anyway. Like I said, Mom’s always made sure I’m part of the group, still invited to everything.
“You’re not cool enough anymore, Nellie,” Blair said to me one day at recess, her switchblade eyes cutting me as she gave me a once-over. A few feet away, the gang of rich bitches who had up until then been my friends, too, laughed.
I was sitting cross-legged on the ground, building mud forts. Blair and I had just been doing that yesterday, when I guess it was still cool. Not anymore, apparently.
“You’re just…so weird,” Blair added with a snort before tromping off with the others.
