Marianne Elizabeth Hammer (top young adult novels TXT) 📖

few times. Then she smiled an angry smile. “It’s just that you’re kind of the last person I want to talk to about it.”

Marianne’s breathing stopped automatically, and she didn’t speak. Sally had never seemed bitter at her before.

Sally looked down at her hands and then back up at Marianne. She looked defeated now instead of angry. “I mean... it’s just not fair.” Her voice broke on the last word, and she coughed a little. “I always try so hard, you know? And I get crap back. You give crap, and nobody cares. Everyone loves you.”

Huh? Sally was way crazier than Marianne ever knew. But Sally was right about always getting crap back from everyone. She was the nicest girl in the world, but her parents treated her like crap. Her boyfriend treated her like crap. Even half of her friends treated her like crap. Why the hell did that happen? Marianne had so many things to respond with, that she couldn’t decide where to start. Sally started back up before she could pick one.

“I still love you, though,” said Sally, smiling. She lifted the eyeliner to Marianne’s face again and started drawing a spider web design to the side of her left eye. “So anyway... I went over to Victor’s house after school to see if he wanted to go to the beach clean-up with me this weekend. His cell phone was off.” Sally paused to grab the purple lipstick and directed Marianne about how to hold her lips. “I saw him making out with some chick in his car.”

That was so much worse than a confession! No remorse at all. Marianne was so angry that she wanted to stab a pen into her leg just to release some of it. She let Sally finish with her lips, and then said, “What the hell? Are all Goth guys evil cheaters?”

“I believe you’re thinking of men in general,” said Sally, very composed.

How could she look so calm? She should have been yelling and asking Marianne to help write nasty notes to him.

Sally looked at Marianne like she’d forgotten something. “Excepting Patrick, of course. He wouldn’t do that to you.”

Patrick cheating? Just that statement made Marianne’s perception of reality wobble a little. All of a sudden, she didn’t need to use any effort to imagine how Sally was feeling. Patrick lying to her with his perfect lips. Patrick using his hands to touch another girl. Patrick forgetting her and hurting her purposely. It had been so stupid of Marianne to think she could do anything to make Sally feel better today. It would feel like having your torso ripped apart by a cannonball. When Alvin had cheated, Marianne had only been insulted. If Patrick did it... there would be nothing left of her except smeared blood.

And she didn’t have to work hard to know one other thing, too. One thing that she knew would be true for her, so it must be true for Sally. Marianne would still love Patrick. She would feel like he’d done it because she wasn’t good enough. That was why Sally wasn’t raging. She felt just as insecure about herself as Marianne did; Sally just hid it better. Why get angry about something that you know you deserve?

“You’re good enough,” said Marianne without preamble. “You didn’t deserve that. Victor is a selfish prick, and he would have done it to anyone. He’s going to cheat on that girl, too.” Unhelpful, vapid words. Her words were so true and so obvious that they were just plain insulting. Sally didn’t even respond to them, and Marianne was glad. Sally got up to find the dress she had in mind for her.

Marianne looked down, immediately nervous about the upcoming fitting. But then she realized that she was probably the same size as Sally now. She had a fighting chance of actually zipping up whatever Sally offered her. It was a striking moment for her. In her mind, her stomach seemed to shrink and flatten out. It was as if she were a sci-fi shapeshifter—whatever she thought about her body, so it was. It wasn’t like that weird eating disorder thing, though—where skeletal girls look in the mirror and see someone obese. Marianne never actually saw anything different in the mirror then what was really there. She just judged herself differently at different times. Yesterday, she hadn’t been good enough. Today, she was. Simple.

“My darling,” said Sally, eyes bright and excited. “I’ve never worn this before. It’s just too special for any occasion less than this.” She unhooked the hanger from the very far left of the closet and pulled it out.

Oh, for the love of all that was holy.

Marianne had been expecting black. She’d been expecting something long and lacey. Something that would let her melt into the shadows of Disneyland’s dimly lit areas. Nope. Marianne stood up and unbuttoned her jeans. Off with normalcy. She pulled her t-shirt over her head. Away with sanity. Ugh, she even had to take off her bra because the dress had one built in. There went her self-respect.

Marianne stood in front of the closet mirror while Sally fastened the million little buttons along the back. This dress was short and flared at the bottom, like a ballerina tutu complete with black tulle. The main part of the dress was made of what looked like upholstery material—a black background patterned all over in brown and orange and turquoise peacock feather eyes. Marianne ran her hand down the boning on the waist. It fit her snugly, perfectly.

The bust had cream-colored ruffles on the cups, and very wide bra-like straps. Two sets of straps, in fact, that Sally pulled over Marianne’s shoulders and crossed behind her back before hooking them. What a total nightmare. Had the dress been any shorter, and the bust cups any smaller, she would have been burlesque.

Okay. But she looked awesome, actually.

Sally added fishnet stockings, Victorian-style boots, and a brass armband. She was ready. Marianne looked in the mirror one final