Unpretty: An Unloved Ones Prequel Read Free Page A

hands. I close my eyes to concentrate.
    I don't really believe in wishes, but after all she's done for me today, I feel I owe it to Sarah to try.
    "What do you want most?" she prompts, helping me to think before the candle burns out. “What would make you happy?
    What do I want? I don’t even have to think about it.
    I wish I were thin.
    I open my eyes and blow out the candle.

Chapter Two

 
    The smoke curls up into the low roof of the car, and Sarah hands me the cupcake. She starts the car and tells me she'll see me at school tomorrow. I thank her again for the cupcake, and lumber out of her small car. She doesn't wait until I get to the door because my mom's car is in the driveway. Sarah’s car vrooms down the street, and I shuffle the shopping bag and my cupcake as I unlock the door.
    We have a small house, but since it’s just my mom and me, that’s all we need. My dad Hank lives in New Jersey, and we have an okay relationship, even if I don’t see him beyond holidays and the occasional summer trip.
    The house is cluttered with junk, and when I come in, I hide my shopping bag behind a few packages by the front door. I don’t want to answer any questions.
    I have to pass through the living room to reach my room, so there’s no avoiding my mom on the couch. I can see her the moment I walk in, her face outlined in the blue flickering glow of the TV. A bowl of popcorn is in her lap.
    My mom is thin. I don’t know how she does it; I’m pretty sure she eats more than I do, and I’ve never seen her exercise. Some people are just lucky. Her jawline is sharp, but her nose is bigger than mine, and tonight she’s wearing her old glasses instead of her contacts. Her hair is also lighter than mine, a medium brown with thick frizzy curls. I don’t know where I got my straight black hair. My dad’s hair is blonde.
    I turn on a light as I walk by and steal a glance at what she’s watching. It’s the closing credits of
America’s Most Wanted
.
    “You know you’re not supposed to have sweets,” she says, not taking her eyes away from the screen.
    “I know,” I say. I don’t want to have a fight. We can’t seem to talk without fighting anymore. I’m only stopping to give her a chance to remember my birthday.
    “Don’t take that tone,” she snaps. “I’m mean because I love you. It’s called being a good parent. Not that you care. You’re too busy being out all night doing who knows what.”
    “I was at the mall with Sarah.”
    She cringes. My mom and I used to be close when I was growing up, like sisters. But the last few years I’ve been hanging out more with Sarah. My mom hasn’t been taking it so well.
    The show is interrupted with commercials, and my mom picks up the remote to mute the TV. She turns to me, the square of the TV reflecting in her glasses and blocking her eyes.
    “The mall?” she says. “That sounds
fun
. And where was I? I was here: home alone.”
    I feel guilty, which I’m sure was her intention. But I can’t help it. I don’t want to go to the mall with my mother anymore. It’s just embarrassing. I’m pathetic enough as it is.
    “Maybe we can see a movie this weekend,” I suggest. Movies are safe. No one can really tell we’re hanging out in a dark theater.
    She laughs. “Don’t pretend you care about me. I don’t need your pity.”
    I sigh. There’s no winning this one. Still, I want to make her feel bad for forgetting my birthday, which she can’t do if she forgets.
    “Aren’t you going to wish me a happy birthday?” I ask.
    Her mouth twists, but she doesn’t look at me. “Happy birthday,” she grumbles.
    “You could at least look away from the TV.”
    She blinks, and for a moment she looks sorry. But then she picks up the remote, and clicks back on the sound. An announcer extolls the virtues of a pepperoni pizza, and I give up and go to my room.
    I lock the door. I set my cupcake on my nightstand, and then collapse on the bed. My body is exhausted, but I feel