Becky gave me a plethora of information on everybody. I found out that Aubry was Maggie’s adoptive son. She saw him in an orphanage one Christmas and knew he was meant to live with her. He was just shy of two years old and had been left there by his teenage mother. Two years later, Cole was dropped off by his father, who couldn’t care for him any longer. Greg stays over when things in his house are going bad. He lives with his alcoholic mother and whatever boyfriend she lets move in with them. Maggie is good friends with his grandmother, but she lives a couple of towns over, so Maggie took to watching him for her.
“His mother’s a bitch,” Becky whispered loudly.
My eyes widened and my mouth popped opened.
Becky shrugged nonchalantly at my reaction. “She is. I’d rather not have one than end up with her as mine,” she said, shaking her head. “Poor Greg,” she added sadly. I could tell Becky really cared for Greg.
“At least he has Maggie and you guys,” I said with a reassuring smile.
“Yeah,” she sighed. “I just wish he could move here. He stays over a lot because he’s Cole and Aubry’s best friend, but still...”
An hour later I was looking at myself in the mirror and was surprised to see that I didn’t look like a flapper or the annoying lady from The Drew Carey Show, that Aunt Shelley loved to watch. I looked...older. My long dirty-blonde hair was brushed and straightened perfectly; my lifeless gray eyes were brightened by black eyeliner and light gold eyeshadow. My already golden skin had bronzer, making it look like I tanned. I was wearing tight jeans and a tight periwinkle sweater that covered my growing chest and low furry charcoal-colored boots.
“You look sexy,” Becky said as she jumped around me clapping her hands. “Like a woman. I knew you had curves under all that funk you were wearing.”
“I don’t want to look sexy, Becky. Maybe I should wear other jeans or something. I don’t want Maggie to think I’m...slutty,” I pleaded.
“Nope,” Becky replied, shaking her head. “Aunt Maggie doesn’t judge a book by its cover. She already met you wearing that hideous thing you came in wearing. She’ll know I put you up to this. Trust me, I’ve worn way skimpier things. Your top doesn’t even show off your boobs. You’re wearing a sweater,” she replied exasperated.
“Fine,” I sighed.
We went downstairs and met Mrs. Parker in the kitchen.
“Aunt Mags, look at Blake’s transfermation,” Becky announced triumphantly.
“Transformation, Becky,” Mrs. Parker corrected as she turned around and looked at me with kind brown eyes. “Blake, you look lovely, not that you didn’t already. I don’t think you need all that makeup though.”
“Oh, Aunt Mags, it’s only for dinner. She’s not going to wear it to school,” Becky said, rolling her eyes. “Besides, she’d never played dress-up before.”
Maggie gave me a sad smile before turning back to put the food on serving plates.
“May I help you?” I asked politely. I always used to set the table at Aunt Shelley’s house. I felt like it was the least I could do.
“Sure, Blake. Will you set the table for me, please?” Mrs. Parker asked kindly. “Becky, show her where everything is, please.”
As Becky and I set the table, she continued to feed me gossip. She told me that she and Greg were a couple, but all they’ve done was hold hands. Apparently, the kids in school were already kissing—with tongue! Gross. The thought made me want to go brush my teeth.
“Why would you want to touch someone’s tongue with your own anyway?” I asked half disgusted—and half curious.
“I don’t know, but I think I’m going to try it with Greg at some point. I’ll let you know how it feels,” she replied wistfully.
I cringed. I couldn’t believe she was even considering that.
Once we set the table and got the drinks, Mrs. Parker asked us to get the boys.
“Do Aubry and the other kid share a room?” I asked Becky as we made our way upstairs.
“Nah, they each have their own rooms. The house has five rooms. Maggie gets the big one at the end of the hall, Aubry sleeps in the one next to her, and Cole sleeps in the one across the hall from Aubry’s. Then there’s your room, which I use when I come over, and there’s a guest room. Greg stays in there sometimes, but most of the time they do a big sleepover,” she explained. I had already used the bathroom, which was across from our room, so I made a map in my head as to where their rooms were.
“A big sleepover?” I asked confused.
Becky laughed. “We set up sleeping bags downstairs when we watch scary movies at night, and we all sleep there.”
I nodded, but didn’t reply. I didn’t like the thought of sleeping outside of a room, so I made a mental note to pretend illness on the days they did that.