Page 56
Story: Selfie
I shake out my fingers, releasing a trembling breath.Okay, okay.It’s fine. I’m fine. Butt on carpet, back against the couch, I stretch my arms overhead, trying to relieve my body of some nervous tension. And that’s when I get a little whiff of the pits.Uh-oh.
Okay, it’s really not bad. It’s what any woman smells like after working a twelve-hour day—not exactly powdery fresh. But my hot boss is coming over and I need to smell nothing short of a bubblegum-candy meadow. I recheck my phone. He said twenty minutes.Shit!
Scrambling on to my feet, I haul ass to the bathroom and nearly topple over Charlie, who, with the worst timing in the world, has emerged from her bedroom wearing her pink, unicorn fluffy robe, carrying not one, but two bubble bath bombs, one in each hand.
Briefly, I’m distracted because those suckers cost about five dollars a pop and I’ve told her time and time again—use sparingly. This girl is going to bankrupt us on glitter and bubbles. “What do you need two for?”
“This one is strawberry, this one is banana,” she says, holding up her left hand, then the right. “I’m going to have a strawberry-banana-smoothie bubble bath. May I borrow your pink, gel eye mask? Also, would you be a lamb and make me an iced chai tea latte? Not too much whipped cream.”
“No!” I shriek.
“To which part?” Charlie screws up her face, offended by my outburst.
“All of it! No chai tea, no eye mask, and no bath. I need the shower right now.”
“Um, no. Dibs. I already have all my bath stuff ready. You can take a shower when I’m done.”
“In three hours?” I ask, completely aghast.
“Perhaps.” She shows me a wicked smile. “Why do you need a shower so bad?” She leans in and sniffs me. “You smell like you normally do.”
I think she’s insulting me, but I don’t have time to dissect that. “Charlie, my boss will be here any minute to work on a very important project. He’s bringing us Chinese food. Isn’t that nice?”
“Orange chicken?”
“Yup. So please, please be a sweet sister and let me hop in the shower before he gets here. You can take your bath after, as long as you like. Just make sure to lock the door and get fully dressed before you come out.”
I have never seen a creepier look on my little sister’s face. A sinister smile curls the corners of her lips. “How come you wanna smell so good for your boss? I thought he was a butthead.”
“Charlie,please.” The clock is ticking, and I don’t have time to explain how sometimes you can want to punch a man rightin his jaw, while simultaneously wanting to see him and his generous bulge in his tight, black briefs again.
“I don’t know,” she singsongs while taking a menacing step toward the only bathroom in the apartment.
“I’ll tackle you if you take one more step toward that bathroom.”
“I will scream and make a very big scene,” she deadpans.
“All right, I don’t have time for this. Name your price.”
“Anything?” Charlie cocks her head to the side, smile still crazy, looking like the Riddler right before he tricks and backstabs Batman.
“Not more pets, but otherwise,anything.”
“I want Drunk Elephant.”
I blink at her. “Come again? You want to get an elephant drunk?”
“No.” She rolls her eyes the only way an eleven-year-old can, needlessly dramatic. “Drunk Elephant. It’s a skincare line. Holly Garcia in my geography class says her skin is so glowy because she uses sunshine serum drops and a polypeptide cream. But she said I probably couldn’t afford those things even though I need them because my skin is so dull.”
These are the new grade-school insults? It used to be fat, skinny, flat-chested, or whispered sneers about acne. Now we’re stooping to dull versus glowy skin? Good God, bullying has really leveled up.
“Babes, listen to me.” Forgetting the urgency for a moment, I grab my baby sister by both her shoulders. “The only kind of woman who comments on another woman’s skin, hair, nails, weight, is someone who is really insecure about themself. Holly’s face may be glowy, but her personality sucks. And you, little sister, are beautiful.” I stroke her cheek with my thumb. “Your skin is baby soft and has plenty of shine. One day, you’re going to get acne, there’s no stopping it. But guess what? You’ll stillbe beautiful inside and out. So the next time Holly tells you that your skin is anything other than radiant, know that she’s talking about herself. Not you. Okay?”
Charlie drops her head and stares at her toes. “Okay.”
“How about instead of a complicated skincare regimen you definitely don’t need, we do a spa day instead. Tomorrow. We’ll get our nails done, maybe a facial. Sound good?”
“Maniandpedi? And can I get gel polish? Ooh, and can Claire come?”
Okay, it’s really not bad. It’s what any woman smells like after working a twelve-hour day—not exactly powdery fresh. But my hot boss is coming over and I need to smell nothing short of a bubblegum-candy meadow. I recheck my phone. He said twenty minutes.Shit!
Scrambling on to my feet, I haul ass to the bathroom and nearly topple over Charlie, who, with the worst timing in the world, has emerged from her bedroom wearing her pink, unicorn fluffy robe, carrying not one, but two bubble bath bombs, one in each hand.
Briefly, I’m distracted because those suckers cost about five dollars a pop and I’ve told her time and time again—use sparingly. This girl is going to bankrupt us on glitter and bubbles. “What do you need two for?”
“This one is strawberry, this one is banana,” she says, holding up her left hand, then the right. “I’m going to have a strawberry-banana-smoothie bubble bath. May I borrow your pink, gel eye mask? Also, would you be a lamb and make me an iced chai tea latte? Not too much whipped cream.”
“No!” I shriek.
“To which part?” Charlie screws up her face, offended by my outburst.
“All of it! No chai tea, no eye mask, and no bath. I need the shower right now.”
“Um, no. Dibs. I already have all my bath stuff ready. You can take a shower when I’m done.”
“In three hours?” I ask, completely aghast.
“Perhaps.” She shows me a wicked smile. “Why do you need a shower so bad?” She leans in and sniffs me. “You smell like you normally do.”
I think she’s insulting me, but I don’t have time to dissect that. “Charlie, my boss will be here any minute to work on a very important project. He’s bringing us Chinese food. Isn’t that nice?”
“Orange chicken?”
“Yup. So please, please be a sweet sister and let me hop in the shower before he gets here. You can take your bath after, as long as you like. Just make sure to lock the door and get fully dressed before you come out.”
I have never seen a creepier look on my little sister’s face. A sinister smile curls the corners of her lips. “How come you wanna smell so good for your boss? I thought he was a butthead.”
“Charlie,please.” The clock is ticking, and I don’t have time to explain how sometimes you can want to punch a man rightin his jaw, while simultaneously wanting to see him and his generous bulge in his tight, black briefs again.
“I don’t know,” she singsongs while taking a menacing step toward the only bathroom in the apartment.
“I’ll tackle you if you take one more step toward that bathroom.”
“I will scream and make a very big scene,” she deadpans.
“All right, I don’t have time for this. Name your price.”
“Anything?” Charlie cocks her head to the side, smile still crazy, looking like the Riddler right before he tricks and backstabs Batman.
“Not more pets, but otherwise,anything.”
“I want Drunk Elephant.”
I blink at her. “Come again? You want to get an elephant drunk?”
“No.” She rolls her eyes the only way an eleven-year-old can, needlessly dramatic. “Drunk Elephant. It’s a skincare line. Holly Garcia in my geography class says her skin is so glowy because she uses sunshine serum drops and a polypeptide cream. But she said I probably couldn’t afford those things even though I need them because my skin is so dull.”
These are the new grade-school insults? It used to be fat, skinny, flat-chested, or whispered sneers about acne. Now we’re stooping to dull versus glowy skin? Good God, bullying has really leveled up.
“Babes, listen to me.” Forgetting the urgency for a moment, I grab my baby sister by both her shoulders. “The only kind of woman who comments on another woman’s skin, hair, nails, weight, is someone who is really insecure about themself. Holly’s face may be glowy, but her personality sucks. And you, little sister, are beautiful.” I stroke her cheek with my thumb. “Your skin is baby soft and has plenty of shine. One day, you’re going to get acne, there’s no stopping it. But guess what? You’ll stillbe beautiful inside and out. So the next time Holly tells you that your skin is anything other than radiant, know that she’s talking about herself. Not you. Okay?”
Charlie drops her head and stares at her toes. “Okay.”
“How about instead of a complicated skincare regimen you definitely don’t need, we do a spa day instead. Tomorrow. We’ll get our nails done, maybe a facial. Sound good?”
“Maniandpedi? And can I get gel polish? Ooh, and can Claire come?”
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