with an intent expression as if the answers to all life’s deepest mysteries could be found amongst her blouses and shoes.
“Hi there,” Karen said, speaking loudly to be heard over Taylor’s lamenting about being done wrong by a faithless boyfriend.
Brittany threw up a hand in a wave as she reached into the closet and pulled out a pair of jeans so small that they looked more appropriate for a Barbie doll. Not that it would be a problem for Brittany. She’d gone on an extreme (and Karen thought potentially dangerous) diet over the summer and lost 60 pounds. Her body was trim and lithe, synthetically tanned to a golden brown like the top of rolls cooked just right.
Karen sat on the edge of her bed and kicked off her sandals. “I didn’t think you’d be here. Don’t you have Bio lab now?”
“Skipped it,” Brittany said after squeezing herself into the jeans. She chose a midriff top with a deep V-neck that showed ample cleavage. And Brittany had ample to show off; pretty much the only place she hadn’t lost weight was on her chest.
“You’ve been skipping a lot of classes lately.”
“Gee, sorry, Mom. I’ll try to do better.” Brittany smiled as she spoke, but her words were biting. “Derek asked me to meet him at the cafe. I couldn’t say no.”
“Derek?”
“Yeah, he’s in my World Civ class. Totally gorgeous.”
“I thought you were seeing that baseball player.”
“Kevin...I am. But we’re not engaged or anything. A girl has to keep her options open.”
“And yours are certainly open.”
Brittany paused in brushing out her long, bottle-red hair and glanced at Karen. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. It’s just that we’ve only been in school a little over a month and this is...what? The fifth guy you’ve gone out with?”
“It’s called playing the field. I’m making up for lost time. You might get some action yourself if you didn’t always dress like a bag lady.”
Karen looked at her outfit. A flowing ankle-length, floral skirt and a loose-fitting T with Salvador Dali’s melting-clock image with the logo “Time Drips When You’re Having Fun” underneath. Her fashion esthetic had always been a little on the funky side, and Brittany used to like that.
“Look,” Brittany said, her voice softening as she came to sit next to Karen. “I’m not trying to be a bitch here. I’m trying to help. You could be pretty if you just put a little effort into it. Otherwise you’re going to be as dateless as you were in high school, sitting at home every night writing that depressing poetry of yours.”
This stung, and Karen shot back, “You weren’t exactly Ms. Popularity in high school yourself if I recall. You couldn’t even get that guy from the World of Warcraft club to take you to the prom and you spent the night at my house watching Easy A .”
“That was then,” Brittany said, the razor-sharpness coming back into her voice. “We’re in college now, a chance to completely reinvent ourselves. No one knows who we were in high school. We can make ourselves into anyone we want to be, but here you are just being the same old Karen you always were.”
“I happen to like who I am.”
“Well, good for you, because you may be the only one.”
The words hit Karen like walking into a glass door, causing her both pain and embarrassment. Her eyes burned, and she clenched her hands into tight fists. She wanted to say something nasty, some vicious barb that would pierce at Brittany like an ice pick to the heart, but words failed her.
Something clattered on the other side of the room. An old coffee jar that Brittany used to collect loose change had fallen off her desk and onto the floor. It hadn’t shattered, but coins had scattered everywhere.
“Shit,” Brittany said, hurrying over. “I must have set it too close to the edge. I do not have time for this. Karen, could you please...?”
Karen held on to her anger for a moment, then rolled her eyes.
“Hi there,” Karen said, speaking loudly to be heard over Taylor’s lamenting about being done wrong by a faithless boyfriend.
Brittany threw up a hand in a wave as she reached into the closet and pulled out a pair of jeans so small that they looked more appropriate for a Barbie doll. Not that it would be a problem for Brittany. She’d gone on an extreme (and Karen thought potentially dangerous) diet over the summer and lost 60 pounds. Her body was trim and lithe, synthetically tanned to a golden brown like the top of rolls cooked just right.
Karen sat on the edge of her bed and kicked off her sandals. “I didn’t think you’d be here. Don’t you have Bio lab now?”
“Skipped it,” Brittany said after squeezing herself into the jeans. She chose a midriff top with a deep V-neck that showed ample cleavage. And Brittany had ample to show off; pretty much the only place she hadn’t lost weight was on her chest.
“You’ve been skipping a lot of classes lately.”
“Gee, sorry, Mom. I’ll try to do better.” Brittany smiled as she spoke, but her words were biting. “Derek asked me to meet him at the cafe. I couldn’t say no.”
“Derek?”
“Yeah, he’s in my World Civ class. Totally gorgeous.”
“I thought you were seeing that baseball player.”
“Kevin...I am. But we’re not engaged or anything. A girl has to keep her options open.”
“And yours are certainly open.”
Brittany paused in brushing out her long, bottle-red hair and glanced at Karen. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. It’s just that we’ve only been in school a little over a month and this is...what? The fifth guy you’ve gone out with?”
“It’s called playing the field. I’m making up for lost time. You might get some action yourself if you didn’t always dress like a bag lady.”
Karen looked at her outfit. A flowing ankle-length, floral skirt and a loose-fitting T with Salvador Dali’s melting-clock image with the logo “Time Drips When You’re Having Fun” underneath. Her fashion esthetic had always been a little on the funky side, and Brittany used to like that.
“Look,” Brittany said, her voice softening as she came to sit next to Karen. “I’m not trying to be a bitch here. I’m trying to help. You could be pretty if you just put a little effort into it. Otherwise you’re going to be as dateless as you were in high school, sitting at home every night writing that depressing poetry of yours.”
This stung, and Karen shot back, “You weren’t exactly Ms. Popularity in high school yourself if I recall. You couldn’t even get that guy from the World of Warcraft club to take you to the prom and you spent the night at my house watching Easy A .”
“That was then,” Brittany said, the razor-sharpness coming back into her voice. “We’re in college now, a chance to completely reinvent ourselves. No one knows who we were in high school. We can make ourselves into anyone we want to be, but here you are just being the same old Karen you always were.”
“I happen to like who I am.”
“Well, good for you, because you may be the only one.”
The words hit Karen like walking into a glass door, causing her both pain and embarrassment. Her eyes burned, and she clenched her hands into tight fists. She wanted to say something nasty, some vicious barb that would pierce at Brittany like an ice pick to the heart, but words failed her.
Something clattered on the other side of the room. An old coffee jar that Brittany used to collect loose change had fallen off her desk and onto the floor. It hadn’t shattered, but coins had scattered everywhere.
“Shit,” Brittany said, hurrying over. “I must have set it too close to the edge. I do not have time for this. Karen, could you please...?”
Karen held on to her anger for a moment, then rolled her eyes.
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