My Life as the Ugly Stepsister (11 page)

BOOK: My Life as the Ugly Stepsister
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“Jerk,” I snapped, sending the pillow sailing back toward his face.

He laughed, loud.

“Stop,” he said. “Stop it. You’re going to get us busted.”

“Then quit being a prick.”

“Ooh. The girl’s got a mouth on her. I’ll stop,” he said, but I could tell he was still fighting a laugh.

“Good night,” I said with what I hoped was authority.

“Night,” he said.

 

 

Chapter Nine

 

 

With makeup, sometimes less is more. Or less is less awful.

—Ally’s Brutal Teen Truths

 

On Saturday morning, the getaway was more hectic because his family was already stirring when the dogs woke us up. I slipped back into bed at my house and slept til noon. It wasn’t easy sleeping outside all the time. Caroline woke me up to inform me she was headed to the mall.

“What are you doing today?”

“I’m supposed to go over to Madison’s.”

“Well, get up then. The day’s a’wasting.”

Did she just say a’wasting? “Okay.”

“I have time to do your makeup before I go,” Caroline said. “But only if you hurry and jump in the shower now.”

I was interested to see what her skills could do for me. “Going,” I said climbing out of bed.

I showered and Caroline got set up in her room. You’d think she was performing brain surgery or something as seriously as she was taking it. She brought in two extra lamps.

My hair was still wet, but she informed me that she couldn’t wait any longer.

Then she got out all these brushes and things. I usually, okay always, just use the cheap little brush that comes with the blush. I mean, that’s what it’s for, right? Not Caroline. She had an arsenal of application tools.

First she used toner on my face with a cotton ball. I would have used a tissue, if I had toner. She told me how to shade to make my nose not look so wide. Hello! My nose wasn’t wide. I had no problems with any part of my face except my eyes, which were too small. But apparently, I had serious nose issues too. Who knew?

Thirty minutes later, I had more makeup on than Johnny Depp in Pirates of the Caribbean. I was, of course, really hoping for a different result. But when Caroline finally let me have the mirror, I realized I’d been hoping for too much. I didn’t look better. Just different, and not a little slutty, I must say. My complexion didn’t look right. And my eyes looked even smaller.

“Well, what do you think?” She chewed on her lip waiting for my answer.

“It’s great. I…love it. Thanks.”

“Do you really? I wasn’t sure.”

Okay, even Caroline knew I didn’t look good.

“I’ve got to go, but we can do it again anytime. I’ll show you how to get the eye shadow to do right, too.”

“Thanks, Caroline,” I said, trying to hide my depression over the sad state of my ugliness. I’d been really hoping she could make me look prettier. This wasn’t prettier.

When I got to Madison’s house, she said, “What the hell? Did somebody’s makeup kit explode on your face?”

“Sort of,” I said, wondering why I didn’t have friends with more sensitivity.

“Hi, Ally,” her mother called from the kitchen. “Oh.” She stopped and studied me. “New look?”

“I know it’s terrible. My stepsister was trying to help. I guess I’m just hopeless.”

Madison’s mom was freaking me out the way she was staring. Finally she said, “Not hopeless. Those are just all the wrong tones for you. You don’t need to be wearing browns. And the foundation is too light. Your stepsister must have used her own makeup.”

I nodded.

“Tell you what girls.” Madison’s mother must have felt sorry for me what with my mom abandoning me and all. “I’ll call in an expert. My Mary Kay consultant works wonders. Let me see if she can get here this afternoon.”

“Oh, you don’t have to— ” I didn’t mean to ruin the whole day.

“No. Let her,” Madison said. “She’s been promising me for weeks and hasn’t done it yet.”

But she didn’t meet my eyes, and I figured she was just trying to make me feel better.

“Oh, definitely,” Suzanne, the big-haired, make-up consultant said later. “Browns or purples would just wash you out. You’d look sickly.”

“So what does that leave?” Madison asked.

“Greens, blues, and pinks,” Suzanne answered. “Done right, they’ll be perfect.”

I winced. I was pretty sure she was going to turn me into something out of the 1980’s with tons of blue eyeshadow. Hey, I’d seen pictures. The 80’s weren’t as ugly as the 70’s, but they weren’t pretty either.

You can imagine my shock when Suzanne finished and handed me the mirror. And I looked pretty good. Better than usual. Not as good as Caroline on a bad day. But decent. Somehow she’d used the eye makeup to make my eyes look bigger instead of emphasizing their small size like Caroline had.

Madison looked good too in her purples.

Madison’s mom had this expression of pure joy on her face. I guess make-up was something of a religious experience for her. She was so excited that she bought us each the skin care kit, plus eyeshadow, eyeliner, lipsticks, blush, and powder. She didn’t think either one of us needed foundation and Suzanne couldn’t budge her.

“Mrs. Hudson,” I said. “You really don’t have to buy me all this.”

“Consider it a birthday present,” she said.

“My birthday isn’t until February.”

“Then I’m way ahead of schedule for once.” She smiled at me.

“Thank you.”

We were all happy when Madison’s mom dropped me off. Especially Suzanne who must have made a fortune.

I glanced at the clouds in the sky before going inside. Surely it wouldn’t rain.

Caroline and Haley were hanging in her room.

“How was the mall?” I asked.

Haley rolled her eyes. “She didn’t tell me we were meeting Liam there.”

Caroline grinned. Then she noticed my makeup. “Hey. What did you do?”

“Madison’s mom decided to have a makeup party.” I held up my bag. “She bought me all kinds of stuff.”

“It looks really good on you,” Caroline said.

“Thanks.” I didn’t want her to think I didn’t appreciate her help earlier. I mean, I know she meant well. “Maybe you can help me put it on tomorrow.”

She smiled. “Sure!”

“Haley, you don’t like Liam?” I asked as her comment finally registered.

“Oh, he’s okay. But he showed up alone. Without any friends.” With a glare at Caroline, she said, “I was like the eighth wheel or something.” Her lips were always pressed into a pout.

“Third,” Caroline said. “And you weren’t.”

“She owes me,” Haley said raising her eyebrow at me.

Yikes! I wouldn’t want to owe that girl anything.

 

The rain was coming down in sheets by the time we ate dinner. I twirled the spaghetti on my fork and tried to decide what to do about Mojo. I couldn’t sleep out in the rain. Unless Jonathan had a tent. No, that would be ridiculous. Plus we wouldn’t hear anybody coming with the noise from the rain. And the dogs would be wet and muddy anyway.

As soon as Haley, Caroline, and Diane finished their dinner, I dashed next door with the beat-up black umbrella Diane kept in the foyer.

The tropical rainstorm nearly blew me away as I stood at Jonathan’s front door. I rang the bell.

He answered immediately. “I thought you might come over.” He stepped back and motioned me in.

I dumped the ratty umbrella on his stoop and stepped inside. Unfortunately a gust of wind snagged the umbrella. I wasn’t paying attention, but Jonathan rushed out to catch it.

The soggy black mass dripped on the floor when he brought it in. His hair and shoulders were wet.

“Thanks,” I said. “You shouldn’t have sacrificed yourself.”

He shut the door, sending some more water flying. “No problem.”

“I came to check with you about the dogs.”

With a nod, he set the umbrella on the doormat. “I knew you’d be worried. I got permission from my dad to let them both sleep with me for this one night. He has a soft spot when it comes to thunderstorms.”

Thank goodness! “That’s great. I was worried.”

“We were just eating dinner, but you could stay for a while.”

I turned to see Jonathan’s mother, father, and little brother staring at me from the dining table. Their interested gazes freaked me out. “Um, no, I think I need to go.” I waved in their direction, picked up my umbrella, and opened the door. “Thanks, though,” I said to Jonathan before dashing back out into the rain.

 

Since soccer practice officially started on Monday, I went to Madison’s on Sunday to work with her and MC. It was actually fun kicking the ball around with them even in the muddy, slushy grass. Then, we hit the pool.

“So what’s the word from your mom?” MC asked as we drifted on the rafts.

I didn’t really feel like talking about my mom. “She called last night. She’s fine. No big deal.”

“I still can’t believe she really left,” Madison said. “I never would have pictured her moving across the country.”

“For a guy,” MC added.

I hadn’t shown them the website. I guess I didn’t want them to think my mother was a total loser.

“When are you going to meet him?” Madison asked.

Good question. I shrugged. “She hasn’t said anything about it. I guess not until she’s sure she really likes him.” I decided to throw them a bone. I told them about the tampon run.

MC thought it was uproariously funny. “I wish I could have seen your dad’s face.”

“My dad probably would freak too,” Madison admitted. “Even if he is a doctor.”

For some reason I couldn’t understand, I didn’t want to tell them about Jonathan.

 

 

When I got back to Dad’s, Diane said he’d just come by. I walked over to find him in the backyard with Ben. Ben was wearing full soccer get-up. I couldn’t help but grin at the little guy. His back yard had mostly dried up, but the dogs still sported muddy coats.

“Where’ve you been?” Ben demanded in a huff. “We were waiting.”

“Sorry, Ben. I didn’t know.”

Jonathan nodded to the orange cones he’d set up. “I told Ben you wanted to play.”

He was really too funny. “I’d love to,” I told my four-year-old opponent. “Does Jonathan think he’s too grown up and important to play with you?”

Jonathan glared.

“No,” Ben said missing the undertones. “He’s playing too.” His tiny little legs were covered in blue socks and pint-sized shin guards.

“Me and Ben against you,” Jonathan said with a huge smile. “Unless you think we’re too much for you.”

“Bring it on,” I said.

I was prepared to back off of Ben and play aggressively when Jonathan had the ball. What I wasn’t prepared for was Buddy. He stole the ball from me and ran off with it in his mouth.

Mojo and Ben chased after him.

“How can he get his mouth around that thing? It’s bigger than his head.”

“Practice,” Jonathan answered. “Soccer is his favorite game.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t offer him as my tutor.”

A mischievous glint lit his eyes. “What do you think this was all about?”

“Well,” I said trying to sound irate. “I’ve had plenty of practice today anyway. No thanks to you.”

After twenty minutes, Ben gave up chasing the dogs and flopped down in the grass beside us. He looked so disappointed.

“Wanna shoot some hoops?” Jonathan asked his brother.

“Yeah!” Ben looked at me. “Will you come?”

“Sure, but I stink.”

“That’s okay,” Ben said, his little chest puffing out with pride. “I’ll help you.”

The goal was way too high for Ben, but he seemed to enjoy trying to get the ball in.

“I’m surprised you don’t have another goal his size,” I said to Jonathan.

“We did,” he told me as he took another shot and watched Ben run to rebound it. “He refused to use it. He likes this one.”

Ben caught up with the ball and brought it back in front of the goal. He leaned down, pulled the ball back between his knees, and chucked it up to the goal with as much force as he could manage. It wasn’t enough. The ball hit the bottom of the rim and rocketed back at him.

Jonathan reached out with a strong arm and snagged it before it could squash his brother. A warm sensation flooded my chest. He was just too adorable.

Jonathan handed the ball to me, and I took a halfhearted shot. Ben shook his head as I missed yet again. “You aren’t doing it right.”

“Ben,” Jonathan warned, rebounding the ball. “She’s doing as well as you are.”

Ben put his little hands on his hips. “Hello,” he said. “I’m four.”

I cracked up. His exasperated look mirrored his brother’s.

“Watch how Jonathan shoots it,” Ben said.

Jonathan blushed as I turned to watch him. I’d been actively avoiding focusing on him so far. I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to stop watching him. Then I’d die of mortification when he noticed me drinking in his hotness.

“I’ve been trying to teach Ben the technique, but since the goal is nowhere near his size…” Jonathan released another perfect shot, his arm fully extended and his wrist seeming to swish down as the ball hit the net.

“It’s all about the follow through,” Ben said like a pro.

“I see that,” I said, pulling my eyes away from Jonathan’s muscular arms. Did he lift weights or something? I always thought basketball players had skinny arms.

Jonathan caught me looking at his arms, so I made this lame shooting motion to cover.

I’m pretty sure I looked like a total spaz.

“Uh,” Jonathan said. “Close.”

Ben just laughed. Then, he got the ball and took another granny shot.

“I’m much better at soccer,” I mumbled.

 

 

The swing had dried out pretty well when I sneaked next door on Sunday night. The dogs had managed to stay damp, and pretty smelly.

“I think you got the better deal tonight,” I said to Jonathan after we talked for a while.

“What do you mean?”

I motioned to the dogs next to me on the swing. “I’ll probably sport eau de wet dog for the next week.”

“Nothing a few dozen showers won’t take care of,” he said.

“They’ll probably start calling me stinky.”

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