Those Girls Read Free Page B

trying to make it look like pictures from magazines. Dani and I mostly wore jeans and T-shirts, but Courtney was good about lending us her things.
    Courtney fluffed her hair over her shoulder. I smiled and took another photo, thinking of our mother, how I’d watch her brush her long hair in the mirror. But Mom never wore makeup, letting her freckles show. We’d still had some of her clothes until we went into foster care. Dad had gotten rid of just about all her things—even her wedding ring. I’d managed to save a couple of photos and the camera, Dani kept her recipe cards, and Courtney clung to an old bottle of perfume that was dried up now.
    “Where are you going?” I said.
    “Out.” Courtney usually shared more, so she was probably seeing someone she shouldn’t, like one of her friends’ boyfriends. Mom used to call Courtney her wild child, but she’d say it in a proud way. Dani was her worker bee, and I was her dreamer. I never felt like she had a favorite, more like she loved each of us for different things. She’d said we were all the best part of her, and that if anything ever happened to one of us, her heart would break.
    Courtney smiled in the mirror. “Where’s your boyfriend?”
    I rolled my eyes. Courtney knew perfectly well that Billy wasn’t my boyfriend—he was just the guy who lived down the road. We hung out sometimes, but it wasn’t like that, though he was always trying. I’d let him kiss me one time, just to see what it was like. He tasted gross, like barbecue chips, and his skin smelled like sweat. I didn’t tell Courtney or Dani about it, but I liked listening to their talk. Dani had only slept with Corey—they’d been together since the eighth grade—but Courtney slept around and had told me enough about sex and what boys like that I wasn’t sure if I ever wanted to go through with it myself.
    *   *   *
    It was after midnight when Courtney finally stumbled home, smelling like cologne and cigarettes, giggling as she pulled on her nightgown in our room—we’d shared a bedroom since we were babies. Often we’d end up sleeping in the same bed, curled together like puppies, her long hair wrapping around us. On really cold nights Dani would pile in too. We’d talk about our mom, our dreams, Dani and her farm that would stretch for acres, Courtney and her music, the crowd screaming her name. I just wanted to take photos, of anything and everything. My sisters were my favorite subjects, but I liked it best when they didn’t know I was there. Dani fussing over the tomatoes, wandering among the cornfields, Courtney with no makeup and her hair messy, strumming her guitar.
    Courtney pulled her blankets over her head and passed out. I drifted back to sleep.
    Hours later, I woke to a crash downstairs.
    I jerked up and fumbled for the lamp on my night table.
    “The fuck was that?” Courtney said.
    “Is it him?”
    “I don’t know. Did you hear his truck?”
    “I was asleep. I heard something downstairs.”
    I found the light just as Dani slipped into our room, her face anxious. The three of us stared toward the door, not moving a muscle, listening. Was that the fridge opening? We heard something drop. Someone cursed.
    Now heavy footsteps were coming up the stairs. I got out of bed, stood beside Dani. Courtney was sitting up, blankets pulled off, one foot on the floor, ready to run.
    Dad pushed open the door. His white tank top was sweat-stained, blood or ketchup dotting the front, his shoulders covered in dark freckles and sunburn.
    He gave us a big smile. “There’s my girls!”
    I watched him, waiting to see if his smile would disappear and he’d start shouting insults. Dad started off happy when he was drinking, but it never lasted long.
    “Well, come on, where’s my fucking hug?” He was still smiling, but anger simmered in his eyes.
    Dani and I walked up to him, Courtney lagging behind. Dad crushed us to him in a hug, enveloping us in the smell of beer and sour sweat