My Life as the Ugly Stepsister

by Juli Alexander

  My buds were waiting for me again in front of St. Mary’s. They gave me a Buns of Steel DVD from Madison’s mother’s collection. I slipped it into my backpack and pretended to go along with the plan.

  MC’s sister had some info on one of the hotties from yesterday. She was friends with his sister. For some reason, I didn’t want to tell them about last night yet. A girl has to have some secrets.

  At lunch, the soccer coach, Coach Borkman, came up to our table in the cafeteria and asked me to try out. I hadn’t played since fourth grade. I wasn’t sure I could even do it. I hadn’t exactly been the star player back then.

  MC and Madison acted all engrossed with their lunches, but I knew they were to blame. Madison hadn’t played in years either, but she had decided to try. Of course, Madison was way more athletic than I was.

  Coach Borkman, who didn’t look like a coach at school in her skirt and floral blouse, pulled out the chair next to me and sat down. “Here’s the thing, Ally. I need a team of at least fifteen on JV. I’ve only got twelve girls signed up.”

  “I haven’t played in years,” I told her. “I’m not really that good.”

  Coach Borkman sighed. “I’m going to be brutally honest with you. Right now, I just need warm bodies. If all you did was just stand on the field and never touch the ball, it would still help us out.”

  Warm bodies. I could probably do that.

  “Having said all that,” she said, raising a brow, “if you decide to come out for the team, I expect you to make it top priority and give two hundred percent at every game and practice.”

  “Okay,” I said. “I’ll give it a shot.” Why not? I needed to exercise anyway. It wasn’t like it was wasting any of my time.

  MC and Madison cheered.

  “Thank you, Ally,” the coach said. “This is the first year of our JV program. It’s a building year for us. I don’t want to lose the opportunity.”

  It wasn’t until she walked off and I took a bite of my peanut butter and honey sandwich that I realized what her quest for warm bodies really meant. She was looking for bench warmers.

  Fine by me. I couldn’t make a fool of myself on the bench.

  Diane was waiting in the carpool lane when school got out. She didn’t know about the exercise video I had in with my books, but I still felt uncomfortable. She informed me that she had two art classes and an art show that night. Dad would be home around six. Caroline was heading out with the cheerleaders after practice.

  Basically, I was on my own. I would have loved to hang with MC and Madison, but I couldn’t spend the night and abandon my dog.

  On the phone later, MC didn’t understand.

  “I don’t get it. Your dog is fine. Besides he doesn’t know the difference if you’re at your Dad’s or at my house.”

  I certainly wasn’t going to explain it to her. Oh, gee. I’m actually sleeping in the back yard now with the dogs and the boy. No. Uh uh. “It’s hard to explain,” I said.

  “Fine. Why don’t I just come over there and spend the night? Your dad won’t care, right?”

  This was even harder to explain away. Because Dad and Diane would totally let me have MC spend the night. But then MC would know what I was doing, and I didn’t want her to know yet. And with a guest over, Diane might check on me more. And Caroline might feel like she had to hang out with us. It was a chance I couldn’t take. “Maybe next weekend,” I said. “I don’t want to rock the boat yet.”

  “I thought you were all about rocking the boat,” MC said. “Remember? The whole tired of taking it speech?”

  She didn’t understand, but she’d forgive me.

  I was nervous about seeing Jonathan again. Were we friends now, or would it be all awkward like usual?

  Dad ordered Chinese for dinner, and we ate together. Apparently, Diane had sold him on the green tea. He was drinking it when she wasn’t even around. The Dad I knew had been a solid Coke man. He told me about his week in Miami. He asked about Madison and MC whose names he still couldn’t remember with any regularity.

  “Have you got plans for tonight?” Dad asked, relaxing at the table in khaki shorts and a knit shirt. He liked to be comfortable at home.

  “Not really. You?”

  “I’m three episodes behind on Mad Men. It’s me, the remote, and the Tivo tonight. You’re welcome to join me, but you’d probably rather visit with Caroline and her friend.”

  Great. I knew Dad got sick of staying in hotel rooms. “Sounds like fun.” It didn’t, but I had my own never-miss shows too. I’m not a big Mad Men fan. Now if only I had something to do tonight.

  Caroline had Haley with her when she got home. They were talking a mile a minute and giggling. Haley’s parents had to be rich. She was too full of herself. I knew she wasn’t a natural blonde, but I’d never been able to catch her with any roots. She obviously had regular salon appointments.

  “Hey, Ally,” Caroline said. “We’re gonna hang in my room. Wanna come with?”

  Uh. “In a little while. I’ve got a couple of things to do.”

  I checked on Mojo again, but I could only spend so much time in the neighbor’s yard. Jonathan wasn’t around, but his parents were. His mother kept coming out like she felt an obligation to talk to me. I finally gave up and went back to Dad’s.

  I had mixed feelings about the chatter from Caroline’s room. I’d like to hang out, but I didn’t much like Haley. Plus, I didn’t want to be the annoying unwanted sidekick. Caroline didn’t dislike me, but I didn’t want to push it. On the other hand, I didn’t want her to think I was blowing her off. It was a fine line, and I doubted I’d manage. I’d probably have to go in there for a while. Then I could visit Mojo and claim to be wiped.

  I had complete confidence that I’d manage to tick Caroline off in no time.

  Then disaster struck. A painful sensation in my abdomen that could only be a menstrual cramp. And I wasn’t prepared. I hadn’t brought anything. Despite Mom’s ultra-preparedness with the trip to the gynecologist, neither of us had thought to pack the monthly supplies. She probably figured that I wouldn’t have to worry with two women in the house. There’d be plenty.

  I went to the hall bathroom and looked under the cabinet. I found panty shields, like that would help. The tampons were some kind of special teen, light-flow crap. Yeah. I didn’t think so.

  I knocked on Caroline’s door. When she yelled for me to come in, I tried to brace myself. Think of it as a bonding experience. “Um, Caroline. Are there any tampons besides the ones in the bathroom?”

  Haley, I noted, was watching me with interest.

  “Nope. Sorry.” Caroline sat cross-legged on the bed. “Won’t those work?”

  I shook my head. “No.” I didn’t think she needed to know I bled like a stuck pig. Which I did. Lucky me. “Does your mom have anything?”

  “Uh uh. She had a hysterectomy.”

  I guess I should have been reassured by the fact that Diane and Dad wouldn’t be making any babies. Instead, I really just wanted a tampon.

  “When will she be home?”

  “Late,” Caroline said with a shrug. “She and her friends are going to an art show, and they usually go out for drinks after.”

  Crap. Haley hadn’t volunteered to help, but she could have a tampon hidden in her bag. She apparently didn’t like me enough to enter the conversation. “Have you got anything?” I asked her.

  She gave me this irritated look. “I’d have told you if I did. Besides, my periods are so light, I hardly need anything. My mother says it’s because I’m underweight.”

  Don’t scratch her eyes out, I told myself. She probably just didn’t have enough estrogen to have a heavy period since she was barely human. If I snapped at Haley, I’d be insulting Caroline too. She apparently had the world’s lightest periods as well. “Thanks anyway,” I said.

  I went the bathroom and checked the situation. I was running out of time. I grabbed Caroline’s wimpy supplies for a short, very short-term solution.

 
; I had no choice but to ask my dad to run me to the store. I couldn’t even stand to watch a tampon commercial with my father in the same room, but I couldn’t wait for a possibly drunk, and definitely irritating, stepmonster to drive me out in the middle of the night.

  Dad had the surround sound up loud and the lights dimmed. He was soaking up Mad Men when I interrupted.

  “Dad, um, have you got a minute?”

  He picked up his much-loved remote and paused the show. “Sure, hon. What’s up?”

  “I kind of need you to take me to the store.”

  “What?” He blinked. “Now?”

  “Yes.” With a nod, I said, “I need some supplies.”

  He wrinkled his forehead. “Supplies? Like school supplies? On Friday night?”

  I looked down at my sneakers. “Um. No. Like feminine supplies.”

  “Huh? Oh,” Dad said finally getting it. His ears turned red. “Oh, I see. You need them now?”

  “Sorry, Dad.” I still couldn’t look at him. Could a person actually die of mortification?

  Dad stood, taking up half the basement with his height and bulk, and turned off the television. He set the remote on the edge of the recliner. “Let’s get going then. Which store do you want to go to? There’s a Target that’s easy to get to.”

  “Target’s good.”

  Dad must have been as embarrassed as I was because he babbled the whole way to the store.

  “Yeah, Dad,” I said in answer to his question. “I do think Target’s way cooler than the other discount stores. It is nice for the lower middle class to have access to stylish clothing at a lower price.” Huh?

  Dad always drove with the windows down, so my hair slapped me in the face the whole way. His hair was too short to bother him, and he claimed to like the fresh air. Dad had always been the totally health conscious, outdoorsy type—eating granola, doing hours on the Nordic Trak, and going on long walks. At least pulling my hair out of my mouth kept me somewhat distracted from the horror of the whole experience. I hadn’t been thinking when I’d left home, or I would have grabbed a scrunchie. We finally pulled into the lot and Dad asked if he should go in with me.

  “No, thanks. I do need some money though.”

  “Oh, right.” Dad pulled out a five.

  “Um, I need at least twenty,” I informed him.

  “Really?” His eyes bugged a little behind his glasses.

  “Yeah.”

  With a sigh, he pulled a fifty out of his wallet.

  I snatched it before he could reconsider. Then I opened the door and climbed out.

  As I walked to the door, I combed my hair out of my face and attempted to tame it.

  The thing is that normally I’m a really fast shopper. I mean if I’m getting a few things for Mom at the grocery, I’m like lightning. But I so did not want anyone to see me walking around the store on a Friday night, alone, with a cart full of feminine hygiene products. I was moving at double speed.

  I grabbed a shirt as I passed the women’s section. The store wasn’t crowded since it was almost closing time, but I didn’t want to risk total exposure. Then I loaded in the jumbo box of tampons and maxipads. No use coming back next month. I threw in a jumbo-sized Advil and a bag of M&M’s. Gotta have chocolate. The shirt nicely covered everything until I got to the front of the store.

  This was where the whole Mission Grab the Tampons and Get Out thing went all to hell. Only one lane was open, and it was manned by a guy. A young guy. Like high school. I looked up at the ceiling. Hadn’t I been going to church every day since like birth? Where was my reward? Was it too much to ask for a woman to handle my tampons?

  Dad was outside waiting, and I had to have them. I had no choice. I had to brazen it out. So I pushed the cart up to the lane and handed the guy the shirt. “I changed my mind about the shirt,” I said.

  “Okay,” he said and stuck it in the mind-changing bin.

  Then I unloaded all my menstrual supplies, trained my gaze on the window, and held out the fifty.

  I heard him gulp. Don’t blush. Don’t freak. He does this all the time. He doesn’t know me anyway. He’s probably even in college or something.

  After what seemed like hours, he said, “That will be twenty nine forty seven.”

  He took the fifty and stuck the change in my hand. Then he loaded it all into a bag which I snatched up.

  “Thanks,” I mumbled. Because I did have manners after all.

  I cruised through the automatic doors and ran to the car. Mom was going to call me any minute, and I was so going to let her have it.

  I handed Dad the wad of change. He hated when I did that, but he didn’t say a word this time. He just grumbled something about thirty dollars and pulled away from the curb.

  Back at Dad’s, I popped in to tell Caroline I was hitting the sack since I had cramps. She blinked like she had no idea what I was talking about. Did she not have cramps either?

  I didn’t end up yelling at my mother. She sounded exhausted by the time she called. She’d been flying all day.

  “So,” I said, putting my Meg Cabot book down on my bed. I was reading the 1-800-Where-R-You series for the second time. “Is it going okay with Donald so far?”

  “Yes, Sweetie. Don’t you worry.” Then she told me all about the view from her apartment over the garage.

  As if I believed she was really living over the garage. Puh-lease.

  “Have you decided about going out for soccer yet?”

  “I signed up.” I didn’t like looking like an idiot, and I wasn’t sure I could do it. Even on the Junior Varsity of a small parochial school league. I rolled over on my back on my bed.

  “I think it will be good for you, Ally. Really, what do you have to lose?”

  My pride. My dignity. A few brain cells if I took a header the wrong way.

  When Diane got home, she came in to check on me. “Caroline said you needed some tampons. Should I run out and get some?”

  Apparently, my dad hadn’t told her. You’d think he’d have the courage to discuss menstruation with his own wife but apparently not. “No thanks. Dad took me to Target. But I appreciate you asking.” And I did. She could have just blown me off and gone to bed.

  “Oh. Okay. I’ll see you in the morning then.”

  “Good night,” I said. Maybe I should make more of an effort to like her.

  An hour later, the house was quiet. I stopped by the bathroom and took care of the necessary tasks. Then I slipped on a bra and clean shorts and t-shirt. It was too weird being outside braless, not to mention hanging out with a boy. Sure I’d done it for the first decade of my life, but that had been pre-boobs. I was only a B-cup, but they seemed pretty big and bouncy to me.

  It was just after midnight when I slipped through the gate at Jonathan’s. Mojo didn’t even bother to greet me. When I got closer, I saw that he and Buddy were cuddled up at Jonathan’s side. He was sitting on the swing. The cot, blankets, and pillows were on the patio.

  “Hey,” he said. “I didn’t know for sure if you’d be coming.”

  I sat down on the cot. “It doesn’t look like he needs me, does it?”

  “Oh,” Jonathan said in a loud whisper. “He does. Mojo just settled down. I think he knew you were on your way.”

  I smiled. “Thanks.”

  “You can sleep here again. That is…” He looked uncertain. “Was it comfortable? I figured it would be more comfortable than the cot.”

  “It was fine,” I told him. “But I can sleep on the cot.”

  “No,” he disentangled himself from the dogs and stood, holding the swing to minimize the swaying and creaking. “You should get to sleep with Mojo.” Then he hesitated. “Unless you don’t want…”

  Good grief. “I’ll take the swing. Thanks.” I knew I should probably suggest that we rotate nights or something. That way he wouldn’t have to sleep out here all the time. But I liked having him out here. I didn’t want to give him an excuse to go inside, or even worse, make him think I want
ed him to leave.

  I moved onto the swing and he tossed me a pillow and blanket. Then he stretched out on the cot.

  “Move over a little, Mojo,” I said. “I can’t get my feet on.”

  Mojo actually did what I said, but I’m pretty sure it was a fluke. I stretched out and covered up. “Where were you today?” I asked Jonathan.

  “Colin had a soccer scrimmage. Me and Dave went to see him play.”

  “How’d they do?”

  “They won. Colin’s amazing. He’s always been good at sports. He plays everything.”

  “You’ve known him a long time?”

  “We’ve been friends since second grade.”

  “Madison and I’ve been friends since first. She’s almost like my sister.”

  “Yeah,” he said, sounding surprised. “Colin’s like a brother.”

  “Maybe your brother can teach me some soccer tricks,” I said. “I signed up to play JV.”

  “Really? That’s awesome.” He rolled over on his side. “I could ask Colin—”

  “Oh, no. I was just kidding. I’m really not very good, and it would just embarrass me.”

  I couldn’t see him, but I suspected he rolled his eyes. “It’s just Colin.”

  “He may be like a brother to you, but he’s a stranger to me.”

  “Fine. I’ll let Ben show you some moves.”

  “Your little brother?” If I could learn something from a four-year-old, I really had no business being on the team.

  “He plays.”

  “Um, okay.”

  “So it’s okay for Ben but not Colin? They’re both my brothers.”

  I threw my pillow at him and the swing squeaked in protest. “Fine. I’ll do it, if you put on a skirt and let Caroline teach you some cheers.” Crap! Why had I brought her up? Things were going so well.