She's All That by Kristin Billerbeck Read Free Book Online Page A

can’t take it. You have to try.”
    Wouldn’t it be nice to actually think everyone has options? Of course, I do have options. They just require living in poverty a little longer. In my mind, I was on my way to a pair of fashionable walking shoes…maybe Borns, or the like.
    â€œI don’t want to do it!” I exclaim. “But I want to make a decent living wage, and I’m tempted. I want to pay my Nana back so she can have a decent place again.” But in reality, I’m not too tempted. Fabric makes me feel alive. Finance…well, finance makes me feel nothing, quite frankly.
    â€œYour Nana has a great place. There aren’t many grandmothers who live in a marina studio apartment overlooking the San Francisco Bay. I don’t think she’s in nearly the hurry for that money that you think she’s in.”
    It’s not just Nana. It’s my own selfish desires too. “I saw on Oprah that when you turn your passion into work, you make it. Did Oprah lie to me, girls? I mean, I don’t want a BMW or anything, but a Marc Jacobs bag is tempting. Being able to sit in a luxurious salon, while I get my hair straightened—is tempting. Being able to afford a respectable vice, like Starbucks, is tempting!” I pull the paper out of my pocket and show Poppy. “Look at this salary. It actually qualifies as a salary.”
    â€œYou gave up that salary because you wanted to design. Right?” Poppy blinks her big, blue eyes and avoids the number. “I can get you a job in finance. Working for a normal boss if that’s what you want. I have a ton of patients in high-tech finance. Don’t take a job doing something you hate, for someone you ha—aren’t fond of.”
    â€œPoppy’s right, Lil,” Morgan says. “You hate finance. You could have done that years ago. Not to mention that Shane Wesley will remind you every day that he was Sara’s choice. You’ll live with your failure every day. You want to design. You want to do what you love. What have all these years on Highway 101 been about if you’re going to quit now?”
    Of course, I know all this. I just want to be told I’m right. There are no better words in the English language than, “You’re right, Lilly.” So I sink onto the bed, and listen while my Spa Girls tell me all the things I already know.
    I give them a little more ammunition. “Three years ago, I was young and I had more determination and confidence. I’m twenty-nine now, and I have no windows. A girl my age should definitely be able to afford windows.” I look at Morgan, who is studying the carpet.
    â€œIf there was something I wanted, Lilly,” Morgan’s cheek twitches, “I’d do it. At least you still have a little determination left. You brought the pickles, didn’t you? You haven’t lost all your will or you wouldn’t have been willing to fight Granola Girl.”
    â€œHey!” Poppy shouts.
    â€œI’ve got my facial appointment now.” I stand up, taking one last sniff of the gone-but-not-forgotten pickles. “I’ll be back, and you’re driving me to the store to get some pickles, Morgan.”
    â€œAm not.”
    â€œAre so.”
    She takes her car keys out of her expensive handbag, and dangles them over the balcony, right over the sulfur-ridden hot tub on the floor below. As I lunge for them, she drops them into the water.
    â€œThe remote is electronic. You’ll ruin it!” I say, shocked that she would be so callous with her own property.
    â€œSo be it. Daddy will FedEx me new ones.”
    I don’t say what I want to. Wouldn’t be considered Christian. I just hike down the stairs for my facial. Life will look better when I’m well-moisturized and fresh as a cucumber.
    As I lay smothered in a mango elastinregenerating fruit mask, I feel myself exhale the pressures of the week. Life looks clearer