The Duff: Designated Ugly Fat Friend (13 page)

We reached the empty table and exchanged smiles, though mine was halfhearted. “That’s it,” I said. “That was the last of them.”

“Yep.” Toby leaned against the table. “You know, I’m glad they forced you to help. I would have been bored out of my mind
if I’d done this by myself. It was fun talking to you.”

“I had fun, too,” I said, trying not to sound too enthusiastic.

“Listen,” he said. “You shouldn’t sit in the back of the room in AP government. Why don’t you take one of the desks behind
Jeanine and me? There’s no reason for you to be alone back there. I think you should join us—the nerds in the front of the
room.”

“I might.” And, obviously, I knew I would. How could I refuse such a request from Toby Tucker?

“Bianca Piper?” The secretary rounded the corner and approached us. There were no flowers or candy boxes in her hands this
time. “Bianca, there’s someone here to sign you out.”

“Oh,” I said. “Um, okay.” Weird. I had a car. There was no reason for me to be checked out.

“See you later, Bianca,” Toby called as I followed the secretary toward the front desk. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

I waved just before turning the corner, trying to remember whether or not I had a doctor’s appointment that day or something.
Why was I being checked out of school? But before my mind could invent any family tragedies, the answer hit me like a ton
of bricks, and I stopped dead in my tracks.

Oh. My. God.

She stood at the front desk, looking like she’d just stepped off a soundstage somewhere in Hollywood. Her blond hair, lightened
by the sun, fell around her shoulders in gentle, perfect waves. She wore a knee-length teal dress (without panty hose, of course)
and high high heels. Dark sunglasses covered her eyes—eyes that I knew were green. She lifted the sunglasses as she turned
to face me.

“Hi, Bianca,” the beautiful woman said.

“Hi, Mom.”

I could tell she was nervous by the way she stepped toward me. She looked shaky, and her eyes were wide with, from what I
could guess, fear. For good reason, too. Unlike my father, I knew she’d meant to send those divorce papers, and I hated her
for it. For not warning either of us. So I shot her a warning glare and moved away when she approached me. This must have
confirmed her worries, because her glance sank to the floor and she focused on the toe of her stiletto.

“I’ve missed you, Bianca,” my mother said.

“Sure you have.”

“Did you finish signing her out, Mrs. Piper?” the secretary asked, returning to her chair behind the tall desk.

“Yes, I did,” Mom said. Her voice found its smooth, natural tone again. “So are we free to go, warden?”

“You’re released,” the secretary laughed. She fluffed her hair
and added, “And I wanted you to know, I bought a copy of your book. It has been
such
a lifesaver for me. I read it once a month.”

Mom smiled. “Oh, thank you! Glad to meet one of the ten people who’ve actually read it.”

The secretary beamed at her. “It changed my life.”

I rolled my eyes.

Everyone loved my mother. She was funny, intelligent, and gorgeous. She looked a lot like Uma Thurman—as far from being the
Duff as you could possibly get. All of her flaws were hidden behind that pretty face, and her smile could deceive people into
believing she was perfect. The secretary, who giggled and waved as Mom led me out of the school, was just another fool.

“Where exactly are we going?” I didn’t bother to shield her from my bitterness. She deserved it.

“Um… I don’t know,” Mom admitted. Her heels clacked on the smooth pavement as she walked. The sound stopped when we reached
her car, a red Mustang that looked like it had been lived in for a few days. It wasn’t hard to tell she’d driven here all
the way from Orange County. “Somewhere with heat?” She was trying to sound perky. “I’m freezing my booty off.”

“If you put some decent clothes on, you might not have that problem.” I yanked open the passenger’s side door and pushed some
junk out of the seat before sliding in. “Sorry this isn’t California. It gets cold here.”

“Oh, California isn’t all it’s cracked up to be,” Mom said. She looked tense as she got into the car, and her bubbly laugh
was clearly nervous, not humorous. “It’s not as fun as the movies make it look, you know?”

“Really? That’s weird. You seem to like it better than Hamilton. But then again, you like to be anywhere but here, don’t you?”

The laughter died, and the car became silent. Mom started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot. Finally, with all
of her veils shredded, she whispered, “Bianca, we have to talk about this. I don’t think you understand what I’m going through
right now.”

“Yeah, it looks tough, Mom,” I snapped. “Nice tan, by the way. I know Orange County must have been a real hellhole.
How
did you manage?”

“Bianca Lynne Piper, I won’t take that attitude from you!” she shouted. “Despite what you think of me right now, I am still
your mother, and I deserve a certain amount of respect.”

“Really?” I snorted. “Like the respect you showed Dad by sending fucking divorce papers without warning him? Or me! For God’s
sake, Mother, what the hell is the matter with you?”

More silence.

I knew this would get us nowhere. I knew I should listen to her, consider her side, and share my feelings reasonably. I’d
seen enough
Dr. Phil
to know we needed to compromise, but I didn’t want to. Selfish, childish, immature… I might have been all of those things,
but my father’s face, the empty beer bottles I’d picked up last week, and the stupid divorce papers just kept popping into
my mind. Listen? Consider? Be reasonable? How were those even options? She was just as childish and selfish as me. The only
difference was that she hid it better.

Mom let out a slow breath before pulling the car over to the
side of the road. She shut off the engine without saying a word, and I stared out my window at an empty field, which would
be full of high cornstalks when summer finally showed up. The gray February sky said everything. Cold. Bleak. A wasted day.
A wasted effort. But I wouldn’t speak first. I would let her be the adult for once in her life.

Seconds ticked by. The only sound in the car was our breathing. Mom gave short, hesitant gasps, as if she were on the verge
of speaking but changed her mind before the first word could escape her lips. I waited.

“Bianca,” she said eventually. We’d been quiet for at least five minutes. “I’m…. I’m sorry. I’m so… so sorry.”

I didn’t say anything.

“I didn’t want it to end like this.” The way her voice cracked made me wonder if she was crying, but I didn’t turn my head.
“I haven’t been happy for a long time, and after your grandma died, your dad suggested I take a trip. I thought it might help.
Like I’d escape for a little while, give a few speeches in different towns, then come back and everything would be better.
Go back to how it used to be when your dad and I first got married. But…”

Her long, thin fingers trembled as they closed around my hand. Reluctantly, I faced her. There were no tears on her cheeks,
but I could see a misty glitter in her eyes. The dam just hadn’t broken yet.

“But I was wrong,” she said. “I thought I could escape from my problems, but I was so wrong, Bianca. No matter where you go
or what you do to distract yourself, reality catches up with you
eventually. I came home, and after a few days, I felt it again, so I’d leave on another trip. I’d stay away a little longer,
book a few more places to speak, go a little farther away… until I couldn’t go any farther at all. It caught up with me on
the other side of the country, and I… I had to face it.”

“Face what?”

“That I don’t want to be with your dad anymore.” She looked down at our hands, still twined together. “I love your dad very
much, but I’m not
in
love with him… not the way he’s in love with me. That’s cliché as heck, but it’s true. I can’t keep lying and pretending
things are okay with us. I’m sorry.”

“So you want a divorce?”

“Yes.”

I sighed and looked out the window again. Still gray. Still cold.

“You’ll have to tell Dad,” I said. “He thinks it was a mistake. He doesn’t think you… you could ever do that to us.”

“Do you hate me?”

“No.”

The answer didn’t really surprise me, even though the word just kind of flew out automatically. I wanted to hate her. Not
so much for the divorce; as much as she’d been gone for the past few years, the idea of living with a single parent wasn’t
all that new or upsetting. And honestly, I’d been expecting them to separate for a while. Really, I’d wanted to hate her for
Dad. For the pain I knew she was causing him. For that night he’d relapsed.

But it hit me then. She didn’t cause that relapse. I could blame her all I wanted, but that wouldn’t do any good. She had
to take
responsibility for her own life, and Dad had to do the same. By staying married, letting things go on the way they had for
the past three years, they’d both be living in denial.

My mother was finally facing reality. Dad would have to face it, too.

“I don’t hate you, Mom.”

The sky had been black for hours by the time Mom dropped me off in the high school parking lot, where we’d left my car. We’d
spent the afternoon just driving around Hamilton and talking about all that she’d missed. The same way we did every time she
came back from a tour. Only this time, she wouldn’t be coming home. At least not to stay.

“I’m gonna go see your dad now… I guess,” Mom said. “Maybe you should spend the night with Casey, honey. I just don’t know
how he’ll react…. That’s a lie. I do know how he’ll react, and it won’t be good.”

I nodded, hoping she was wrong—though our definitions of
not good
were different. I hadn’t mentioned his relapse to her, mostly since it had passed without any significant drama. She was
afraid of tears and yelling—the things that should be expected with a confrontation of this kind. I didn’t want to make her
worry about the drinking, too. Especially since it hadn’t really been that big a deal in the end.

“God,” she whispered. “I feel horrible. I’m telling my husband I want a divorce on Valentine’s Day. I’m such a… a
bitch
. Maybe I should wait until tomorrow and—”

“You have to tell him, Mom. If you put it off now, you’ll never do it.” I unfastened my seat belt. “I’ll call Casey and see
if I can stay with her. You should go now… before it gets too late.”

“Okay.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Okay, I will.”

I opened the door of the Mustang and climbed out. “It’ll be fine.”

Mom shook her head and fiddled with the keys dangling from the ignition. “You shouldn’t have to be the grown-up,” she murmured.
“I’m the mother. I should be comforting you, telling you it will be okay. This is so dysfunctional.”

“Functionality is overrated.” I gave her a reassuring smile. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Mom. Good luck.”

“Thanks,” she sighed. “I love you, Bianca.”

“You, too.”

“Bye, baby.”

I shut the door and stepped away from the car. With my smile still firmly intact, I waved and watched as the little red Mustang
drifted out of the parking lot and turned onto the highway, where it hesitated as if debating whether or not to proceed. But
my mother drove on. So I kept waving.

As soon as the taillights vanished, I allowed the smile to slip from my face. Yes, I knew things would be okay. Yes, I knew
Mom was doing the right thing. Yes, I knew this was a step in the right direction for both my parents. But I knew Dad wouldn’t
see it that way… at least not at first. I’d smiled to reassure Mom, but for Dad I hung my head.

I pulled the car keys out of my back pocket and unlocked the
door. After throwing my stuff onto the passenger’s seat, I climbed inside and shut the door, putting a wall between my already
shaking body and the February night. For several minutes, I just sat in the silent car, trying not to think or worry about
my parents.

That was impossible, of course.

I reached a hand into my purse and began sifting through the clutter of gum wrappers and pens. Finally, I located my cell
phone. I pulled it out and paused with my thumb poised over the keypad.

I didn’t call Casey.

I waited through three rings before I got an answer.

“Hey. It’s Bianca. Um, are you still busy?”

“Are you kidding me?”

I gawked at the giant flat-screen, feeling my face get hot. Again? Seriously? That was the tenth time in a row Wesley had
beaten me since I’d arrived an hour earlier. I’d half expected to find some leggy blonde sneaking out of his bedroom when
I walked up the steps, but the scene I found was quite different. Wesley was playing Soulcalibur IV. And because I’m a glutton
for punishment, I’d challenged him.

My God, I had to find
something
I could beat him at!

And you know, something about beating the shit out of an animated character really made me feel better. Before I knew it,
I wasn’t even worried about Mom or Dad. Things would be okay. They had to be. I just had to be patient and let things happen.
And in the meantime, I had to kick Wesley’s ass… or try, at least.

“I told you, I’m awesome at everything,” he teased, putting the PS3 controller on the floor between us. “That includes video
games.”

I watched as the character Wesley had been operating moved across the screen, doing some sort of odd victory dance. “Not fair,”
I muttered. “Your sword was bigger than mine.”

“My sword is bigger than everyone’s.”

I lobbed my controller at his head, but of course he ducked and made me miss. Damn it. “Perv.”

“Oh, come on,” he laughed. “You walked right into that one, Duffy.”

I scowled at him for a moment, but I could feel the aggravation slipping away. Finally, I just shook my head… and smiled.
“Okay, you’re right. I did leave that one wide open. But you know, boys that talk big never are.”

Wesley frowned. “We both know that isn’t true. I’ve proved it to you plenty of times.” He smirked, then leaned against me,
letting his lips brush against my ear. “But I can prove it again if you want me to… and you
know
you want me to.”