Tonya Hurley_Ghostgirl_02 by Homecoming

really?” Petula spit back condescendingly.
    “Yes, really,” Virginia insisted, mocking Petula’s grating voice.
    The girls glared at each other, facing off.
    “I don’t need a lesson from you about the importance of beauty,” Virginia responded. “You know that picture you get in the frame, the one of the little girl with the perfect face and smile, the one that makes you want to buy the frame?”
    “Yeah,” Petula said. “Actually my sister used to keep those pictures in and pretend that she had another sister, not me.”
    “Well, that was me,” Virginia said. “From there I went on to be one of the most winning pageant girls around.”
    “Oh, that’s nice,” Petula sniffed. “I never really had time for that kind of stuff. I was always too busy with my friends, you know, having a social life.”
    Petula tried to play it off, but she knew she’d been trumped. She’d secretly wanted to be one of those pageant girls. It really suited her competitive personality, she thought, but her mom felt otherwise. Petula always thought it was some conspiracy Scarlet and her mom came up with to keep her from ever fully realizing her outer swan.
    “You have friends?” Virginia asked with a mix of sarcasm and curiosity.
    “I have two best friends, in fact,” Petula said, rubbing it in.
    “How good for you,” Virginia responded, a little more wistfully this time.
    Both girls had taken measure of each other, and after round one they returned to their “corners,” each with a bit more respect for the other. They had more in common than Petula would have expected and more than Virginia preferred to think.
    “I take it you never won a Miss Congeniality title,” Petula said after a while, smiling at the tweenager.
    “Actually, I don’t even know what I won,” Virginia answered indifferently. “I couldn’t care less anyway.”
    “Oh, you care,” Petula said with a smirk. “I’m sure you could have quit any time you wanted.”
    Virginia remained silent.
    “But you didn’t,” Petula pressed, “did you?”
    Petula accepted Virginia’s awkward silence as enough of an answer and turned her focus back where it belonged, on herself, especially her pedicure.
    “Look, they didn’t even take it off the whole way,” Petula said, clearly distressed. “I’m never going to find nail polish remover … here.”
    After a few seconds, Virginia came through with practical advice.
    “You just need to soak your feet in some warm water, peel off the excess polish, and then soak your nails in some lemon juice for naturally white tips,” Virginia offered, easing Petula’s concerns.
    “How did you know that?” Petula said in amazement.
    “I know lots of stuff,” Virginia said mockingly. “Lots of mindless, unimportant stuff …”
    “I think there’s a lot we can learn from each other,” Petula said with a gleam spearing off of her colored contact lens. “You’re going to be the little sister I always wanted!”
    With that cold remark, the temperature in the room suddenly plummeted. Both girls tried to hide the unspoken fears that had been lurking under their conversation and slid closer together, each pulling her hospital gown down as far as it would stretch, which was not nearly far enough.
    “Damn cotton!” Petula cursed, hunching over slightly. “It has no give.”
    Dr. Kaufman, a hot young neurology resident who magically transformed Hawthorne Hospital into General Hospital, came into the room to examine both Kensington girls as Damen kept vigil between them. The doctor started with Petula, examining her as thoroughly as Dr. Patrick and the nurses before had.
    Damen laughed a little to himself at the sight of the doctor running his hands along Petula’s arms and legs, checking her skin for rashes. This is the kind of guy she’d really go for, he thought, and was instantly hit by a wave of sadness, realizing she might never have the chance.
    The doctor examined Scarlet as well, and Damen felt a twinge