Bad Girls by M. William Phelps Read Free Book Online Page A

for the world to see and understand how she felt inside. The first time Audrey Sawyer saw Bobbi Jo Smith, Audrey thought the tank top–wearing, tattooed young girl was a “little boy.” Bobbi had cropped hair, cut in a crew cut of sorts, dyed white gold, streaks of brown and black shaved tight into the sides. Bobbi sported one of those genetically lean, petite bodies. She sometimes wore baggy jeans, a chain wallet, black boots, a spiked leather wristband, and a belt to match. Bobbi had a bump in her step. She cared about the way she looked and carried herself. Bobbi was a lesbian and damn proud of it. Not in a GLAAD-like way, marching in parades and waving rainbow flags, but rather flaunting herself in front of other women and putting the package out there on the market. One friend later recalled Bobbi’s eyes and how charming and yet gloomy they seemed, as if she’d had her share of bad luck, rough times, and had managed to survive by will alone. Several people, one prosecutor, and the murder victim, Bob Dow, called Bobbi “a chick magnet.” One of Bobbi’s strengths, which she didn’t have to work hard at, was a penchant for making friends with girls, regardless of their sexuality. Bobbi was likeable in so many ways: easygoing and easy to get along with. Yet, if you didn’t know Bobbi and didn’t take the time to get to know Bobbi, you might misunderstand this young woman and make snap judgments about her.
    “Once I got to know her, I realized that she wasn’t at all like people had tried to make her out to be,” a good friend of Bobbi’s told me, recalling the moment they became friends, which was months after they first met. “Bobbi never tried to clear up what people said about her, because in her mind she felt like she didn’t have to defend lies. I used to tell her that I saw greatness in her, and that she had the potential to be great. When I told her that, it was hard for Bobbi to see what I did, because she lacked the self-esteem to understand that she had that greatness within. I would remind her of this all the time. Not everyone has it, but Bobbi does. And anyone being honest with themselves that truly knows Bobbi will agree.”
    Holding Bobbi back during that period when she first met Audrey was a voracious appetite she’d developed for drinking and drugging. Beyond anything else, partying was Bobbi’s life, her true passion. She hadn’t known anything different for quite a while. Getting high, Bobbi was hooked on that feeling of slipping away from all of the pain of the past. The drugs and booze deadened that emotional ache she felt, like nothing else ever had.
    Still, that same friend explained, “Even when she was at her worst, I’d witness Bobbi give her last, whatever it was—even when she didn’t have her last to give. And the thing is, Bobbi would give it to the very person that talked about her behind her back—her enemies. She used to always tell me how she never wanted to become like the people who cursed her and made fun of her and hated on her.”
    Bobbi had an uncanny knack for turning “nothing into something, or a bad situation into something positive and good,” added her friend. “For example, someone I once knew wanted to have cards made. You know, like thank-you cards.” Bobbi was known for her artwork. She had the touch. “And there was this girl who originally made up the cards, but she charged an arm and a leg for what looked like what a grade-school kid might have done. I told Bobbi about it. How this girl was overcharged for crappy work. Bobbi redid all of my friend’s artwork for free. And you see, that’s who Bobbi is. She’s loyal. She’s real. She’ll say things how they are. She’ll speak the truth even if it hurts her. She won’t ever argue. She’ll always try to defuse a bad situation. And that’s what some people don’t like about her.”
    There are other aspects of Bobbi’s character that alienated people in her circle. It’s hard for some