Page 185 of Rock Bottom Girl

Zinnia snort laughed. I’d never heard her do that before.

“Good thing you gave up so fast,” Amie Jo continued. “Otherwise you would have figured it out, started dating, fallen in love, and gotten married. Barf.”

It hit me in a wave of nausea and truth. How many times had I turned my back on what was good in life because I didn’t feel like I was good enough for it? How many times had I reminded myself that Jake was just going to change his mind about me again?

I’d been happy and loved. And then I’d fucked it all up. Big time. I loved Jake. I loved his arrogant confidence. His slovenly lifestyle. His commitment to his students. His doofy dog. His family. I loved that he made life better every single day for someone.

“You had what we all want,” Amie Jo told me.

“And then you threw it away,” Zinnia sighed. “If you weren’t my sister, I’d hate you.”

“You waltz into town, all mysterious and interesting,” Amie Jo complained. “And then you shit on everything that’s important to me.”

“Well, that’s a little uncalled for—”

“Popularity is a privilege. I was popular, and I’ve done everything in my power to make my boys popular. I’ve been picking their friends, overseeing their activities, and making sure everything they do cements their position in this world. And along comes Marley Cicero to ruin everything again just like Homecoming!” She opened the second wine bottle and swung it wildly.

“I’m not trying to ruin your life or your sons’ lives. I promise. I’m just trying to show everyone that respecting each other is more important than proving you’re better than everyone else.”

“But if everyone is popular and accepted, where does that leave my boys?”

“I don’t know. Happy? Well-adjusted? Ready to face the adult world with kind hearts?”

“Pfft! When you’re a mother—well, it’s too late for you. Your ovaries probably shut down years ago,” Amie Jo sniffed.

“Probably,” I agreed.

“But when you’re a mother, the only thing that matters is how well your kids turn out. They are a direct reflection of who you are as a human being. My kids are dumber than a box of rocks. All they have are their looks and their popularity.”

Not sure what to say, I patted her awkwardly on the shoulder as she swigged wine.

“I know what people say about me behind my back. I got knocked up in college. I married a man who could take care of me. I dress like I’m an off-duty stripper.”

“I never heard anyone say that,” I lied.

“They don’t understand how hard it is. Being a mom and a wife and working. I am hanging on by my damn fingernails here! And I don’t know why I’m telling you any of this. It’s not like you have any worries in life,” she complained.

“Amie Jo, I think a lot of women are in the same place you are, feeling the same things you’re feeling,” I told her.

“I drink a bottle of Chardonnay every night.” Zinnia’s confession was given like a balloon releasing its air.

“The highlight of my life was being crowned prom queen. It’s been all downhill from there,” Amie Jo responded.

“I’m really sorry about Homecoming,” I said, starting to grasp just how important that crown had been to her.

“I probably deserved it.”

“Maybe a little,” I agreed.

“You need to go beg Jake for forgiveness,” Amie Jo said, taking a swig from the bottle.

“Yeah, you do,” Zinnia agreed.

It was then that the branch broke with a splintering crack, and we were all falling.

80

Jake