The Perfect Doll - Becca Marien (bearly read books .TXT) 📗

I sipped at my coke as my best friend since diapers gabbed my ear off about the first party of summer. I nodded and gasped at all the right times, but we both knew I wouldn’t go. And Piper was okay with that. I preferred sitting out in the warm air on my fire escape with a book. As we passed a few stands, the owners waved flyers at us.

I took a bright orange one, but only because it was my favorite color. I put my cup in the crook of my elbow and folded the paper into a small square. I tossed my cup into a nearby trash can, and we headed into the small apartment building that Paisley and I stayed at with our families. Brody the security guard was in full out protect mode. He had his feet propped up on his desk, watching a small static T.v. with a box of doughnuts perfectly balanced on his midsection.

He nodded at us as we made our way to the elevator. As we approached floor two we hugged, and then alone I rode up to floor three. As the elevator dinged and the doors slid open, my phone went off. I headed down the hall and pulled it from my pocket. Piper was continuing her conversation with or without me present.

I fished my house key from the small pocket of my book bag and plugged the key into the knob. When you first walk into the tiny apartment that My Dad and I share, you can see the kitchen and the living room. Dad was sitting in the kitchen at the two chaired table hunched over his work issued lap top. I gave him a hug on the way to my room. My room was just big enough for a single bed, and a desk.

And this was the master bedroom. My closet fit all my clothes and shoes, with pleanty of room to spare. I dropped my book bag on the edge of my bed, and it creeked. I used to have nice things. We had lost my Mom to her three yearlong battle with cancer. IN her last year Dad put Mom in the guest bedroom with around the clock nurses.

When Mom died the medical bills hit, Dad lost his job, and now here we are. Dad doesn’t talk about Mom, and Neither do I. Now he’s early fourties trying to start over again. I looked in the mirror that I had screwed onto the back of my door. Yikes.

I redid my bun, and stripped my clothes. I picked up my uniform and paused. I fished out the little orange paper, and tossed it onto my desk. I dropped my uniform into the hamper. I had gotten into the private school on brains alone, but constantly debated my choice due to the thick scratchy uniforms we had to wear.

We had to fall back on my two thousand dollar college fund, but I didn’t care. My brain could carry me on it’s own. I walked over to the only window in my room that led out to the black iron fire escape. I sat on the sill, and flung my legs out. New York had been the ideal place to live until you couldn’t afford it anymore.

I looked down to the parking lot. Each apartment got two spaces. One of the spaces was taken up by a small powder blue two seater that broke down before you could put the car in reverse. The other space held my Dad’s shinny navy blue car that fit five comfortably. Work issued. The Company was still a baby, but Dad felt he could get it off the ground.

With his boss, a spoiled rich boy with pleanty of money, Dad was hard at work coming up with a few ideas. The apartment building wasn’t near central park, but it was high enough that I could see some of it. I saw people riding tandem bikes, toddlers in double and triple strollers being pushed my spandex wearing Moms. Someone was trying to sell some paintings, but I couldn’t make them out from my window. However, judging by the crowd the artist had gathered, I bet that they were something.

A car drove by and honked. What are they honking for? I looked down, and noticed I wasn’t dressed. Opps. I swung my legs back over, and slid off the sill.

I pulled on a long shirt, and stood on my bed to reach the chain of my ceiling  fan. I clicked it on and then flopped on my back, my hands on my rib cage. There was nothing like a good nap after school But I didn’t get to sleep right away. My Dad burst through the door excitedly.

“Shiloh,” He didn’t care I was trying to take a nap. Or didn’t know. “I think I’ve hit it big.”
I sat up, “What’s the job this time?”
“Redecorating the lobby.” He waved me forward and I followed him into the kitchen.

“Have a look.”  He held a chair out for me and I sat down.

Dad knew what he was doing when it came to this.   It looked expensive, and when I said so he waved his hand and shut the lap top.

“I have to get to the office. You’ll be okay here right?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll pick up dinner on the way home.”
“Burgers.”

“You got it kiddo.”
    He kissed my head and left the apartment. When Ever I was left alone I was suddenly very aware of the quiet. The only sound was the whirl of the table fans we had through the house. Then someone on floor two dropped something earning a cuss. I headed back to my room, and shut the door and window.

I pulled the black shades shut plunging my room into a shadowy coolness. I turned on the fan I had sitting on my desk and aimed it towards my bed. I stretched out on my bed on my stomach, the tips of my feet hanging off. This is the trouble of being 5’10 . I scooted up  a little and raised one knee.

I sat there feeling my room get cooler. I closed my eyes. Ah, my after school nap. I sat up and dug the heels of my hands into my eyes. I headed to the bathroom and filled up a cup of water. The front door opened and I wandered out into the kitchen living room combo.
“He bought it.” Dad said pleased with himself.

“That’s great!”
“It’ll be great when I can pay off the bills and get us out of here. Say, how about we head out for dinner?”
“Let me get dressed really quick.”

 I pulled on smoke shorts, slipped my feet into some slippers, tied up my shirt, and we headed out. I ordered a burger with onion rings and ranch and a strawberry milk shake. I added on a coke when Dad insisted. He ordered his meal and the waitress, red cheeked stumbled away. My Dad had that effect on girls.

He looked a lot younger than he truly was, and he had twenty year olds crushing on him. Both of my parents were good looking, so my grandma said it was only natural for me to be too. No one was surprised about my looks, except for me. I didn’t see them. Maybe when you look a certain way for so long, you just get used to it. It becomes normal, comfortable.

I polished off my plate, my stomach budging. Once at Home Dad got back to work, and I took a shower. I was Tuesday night. They should of just gave us two extra days of summer, but no dice. I  grabbed a floppy book, and sat on the fire escape.

Inside, I could hear Dad talking to himself about what wouldn’t work and what would. I had a feeling by the time the business opened, Dad would have put the whole thing together. I read a few chapters and headed inside. I got into bed and fell asleep, with the summer air floating around my room.

When I woke up the next morning I quickly shut the window. My room was cool and that’s how I wanted to keep it. I put the fan on my desk on rotate, and used the bathroom. Dad was already gone, and sometimes I wondered what it would be like to see something broken come perfectly together. I headed back to my room and sat down at my desk.

This was the only spot in the house that you could get the old bat’s wifi signal. I logged into Pipers Netflix account and binge watched the newest series of Supernatural. I was a bit behind due to my studying. As the theme song played, opening a new episode, I noticed the orange paper again. I picked it up, and unfolded it.

The orange paper was splashed with black ink. I reached over and clicked on my desk lamp. I loved the thing. I found it in a pile of trash getting ready to be tossed out. The stuff people throw out because it doesn’t fit their décor.

I’m telling you. It was an add. There was going to be a modeling shoot today noon to four. Simple, take a few pictures, get some cash. It sure would be nice to go out with piper with my own money, instead of just helping her shop, of picking off of her plate. A girl had things to do. I read the requirements.

The only one was to come with your hair unwashed. Huh? I leaned in closer, yep, I had read that right. I looked at the time. I had an hour and a half left of camera time.

I hurried over to the address and walked in. Girls milled around with scraggily hair. Maybe I should have dirtied mine up a bit. There was a bunch of tables, and the people who manned them were dressed in black. A girl hurried by me, and I took a step back.
“Pretty eyes.” She mumbled.
“ Pretty nose.” I answered out of character.
    The girl grinned and hurried away. I felt a delicate hand on my shoulder and turned around. A pretty woman dressed in a black tank top and slim pants stared up at me. I was used to looking down at people, but this woman had so much power about her, I felt the need to bend down to eye level. She stuck her hand out.
“Amara More.”

“Shiloh Eperson.”

“Nice hand shake sweetie.”

“Thanks. Is there some place I’m supposed to go?”
She laughed, “No sweetie, You just walk around the tables and wait for an agent to come and talk to you.”

“And that’s you, I’m assuming?”
“You’d be right.”
“Well that was easy.”
“Easy right now,” Amara corrected easily, “If we decided to work together it will be work.”
“I expect nothing less.”
          She laughed, and touched my shoulder. “Good! There will be fun parts of course. Why don’t we see what we can come up with.”
She linked our arms and