Status: Complete

Food, Cats, and Being Lazy

Twenty-Six

I left the gym but didn’t make it very far before I had to stop running. Mostly because I almost tripped and fell in the stupid shoes. I just couldn’t stay there with drunk Collin and his idiotic ramblings about circles. I didn’t want to be near Paige and how perfect she was. Her inability to think I could ever be on the same level as her. And stupid Vincent, leading me on and always trying to be my friend when, as my sister put it, we came from different worlds.

I really didn’t know where I was going, though. I couldn’t walk home because it would take forever, but I had no way to get there anyway. So I just went in that direction until I came to a convenience store and stepped inside. I put my sunglasses on in the parking lot because the lights were bright, and I’d been crying.

“A pack of Marlboros, please?” I asked the cashier. He looked me up and down and must have determined that if I was wearing evening gloves, I must be old enough to smoke.

“What kind?” he asked. They come in different kinds?

“I don’t care,” I said dramatically. “I’ll take anything at this point. I’m dying for a smoke.” Okay, I was using my cool “I’m a stressed, rich, fabulous adult” voice. But he didn’t question it. He stuck a pack on the counter, and I paid for it without caring what kind they were.

Once, when Paige and I were little, we got into a pack of cigarettes and took them into the backyard. We lit them up and stood back there pretending to be cool kids. An hour later, our mom came out the back door screaming at us, only to find us hunched over the bushes hurling into our neighbor’s yard.

I only got the cigarettes because I was walking and trying to think of what Audrey would do. She would have put on her glasses, pulled out a cigarette, and let it melt away her heartache. But actually, I didn’t know if she’d do that because I’d never seen any of her movies. But I think she had one of those cool extender things in one, right? I don’t know. But I felt like I needed to do something.

So I walked with it like I was a fabulous woman having a crisis in a movie. I held the cigarette between my gloved fingers and kept my neck straight, and my chin lifted. I was Audrey if she was short, blonde, and chubby. And also had braces. Why didn’t he question why I had braces?

When I finally got around to lighting the thing, I was worried my gloves might catch fire. So I pulled one off, struggled to light it, and then held it between my lips while I pulled the glove back on. But the smoke kept getting in my eyes and making me cough. So I just walked around with it for a while, flicking it like I knew what I was doing whenever someone passed me.

When I got to the park, I sat down on the wall and crossed my legs. I kept my spine straight and held the cigarette up high. I still had the sunglasses on, and I felt really cool. I probably looked like a weirdo, but I was going to care more about making myself feel better than whether or not strangers thought I was cool. Of course, I wasn’t actually smoking, but I was kind of afraid because it smelled gross, and it reminded me of that time Paige and I puked on the neighbor’s flowers.

A car pulled to the curb right in front of me, but I recognized the crappy paint job and turned my head as if it was ruining my view. I heard the door open, and Vincent stepped out. I could tell he found this image of me amusing. He crossed his arms and leaned against his car.

“Pip,” he said slowly. “What are you doing?”

“I’m channeling Audrey,” I explained.

“Why do you have a cigarette?”

“Because she had one in Breakfast at Tiffany’s, didn’t she? I don’t know. I’ve never actually seen it, but I wanted to feel fabulous and not humiliated.”

“You don’t look fabulous at all. You look like someone who’s never smoked a cigarette before.”

“I have smoked a cigarette before.”

“I mean recently.”

“It was recently.”

“Then smoke it.”

“I don’t want to.”

“So you’re just standing around holding a cigarette to look fabulous?”

“Don’t make fun of me. I’m really pissed off, and you’re just making it worse.” He stepped onto the sidewalk and yanked the cigarette from between my fingers. “Hey!” I said when he tossed it to the ground and stomped on it. Then he grabbed my purse, pulled out the pack and the lighter, and tossed them onto the grass behind me. “I paid good money for those!” He put his hands on my arms and pulled me to my feet.

“Pip, look at me.” He lifted my sunglasses and looked me in the eyes. I knew my mascara had run, and my eyes were probably all puffy. “You don’t need cigarettes to make you look fabulous, okay?”

“I was really into character. Being Audrey felt better than being Piper.”

“I know you were really into it, but I need you to be Piper again.” I sighed and slouched.

“I don’t want to be Piper anymore.”

“I get it. But unfortunately, you’re going to be Piper for the rest of your life. But I bet future Piper is going to be super awesome. If not the most fabulous woman in the world.”

“I wish I could be her already. I wish we could also stop talking in the third person.” He laughed.

“C’mon. I’ll take you home.”