Author's Note: Thanks again for all of your helpful reviews and comments. I'll keep trying to update as soon as possible. Also, Claudia's story is at a dead end for me – any suggestions? Thanks for reading!
Kristy continued to stare at the message that was on Mal's computer. Mal had already re-entered the room, but she didn't seem too concerned about the flashing box on the screen. She was trying to think of a tactful way to bring it up when she remembered who she was. Kristy Thomas was never tactful.
"Uh, Mal? When I was playing solitaire, a message from Jessi popped up on the screen. It said some things that I probably shouldn't have seen."
"Such as? Oh…" Mal trailed off, her face slightly reddening. "Can we please not get into that?"
"Sure," Kristy said, fine with changing the subject. "Let's go see how the kids are."
Mal's words came out in a rush. "I mean, it's just that Jessi and I have been friends for so long, and I started to have this potential crush on her. But I couldn't tell if I had actual feelings for her or if I just admired her. She's so gorgeous, you know. So we were hanging out one night and I kissed her, just to see what it was like. Well, she totally got the wrong idea. I mean, I didn't even feel anything towards her after that – it was just something that I had to do and then get over. And now she won't even talk to me, at least not in person. It's like she thinks I'm going to tackle her or something."
"But can't you see Jessi's point? How is it fair of you to kiss Jessi just to test your feelings out? She's your best friend, and you used her! No wonder she doesn't want to see you in person."
"Keep your voice down!" Mal shushed her. "Like I want my whole family to know about this. Anyway, I'm a writer. I need to experiment with all aspects of life so that I have something to write about."
Kristy scoffed. If, at thirteen, Mallory Pike could call herself a writer, then Kristy felt that it was fine to call herself an entrepreneur and CEO of a highly successful company. Her resume would flourish!
"So…you're not a lesbian? You don't have feelings for Jessi, then?" Kristy was thinking back to the huge hug that Mallory had given her lately. Not that she was creeped out or anything, but it was a lot to take in at once.
"Hah! No, I'm not a lesbian. Never have been. I was seriously just testing it out to see what it was like. See, I'm planning to enter this short story contest, and…"
Kristy tuned her out. Here, she had been ready to sit down and console Mallory about her lost friendship with Jessi; instead, she had found out that Mallory Pike might be the most manipulative person that she knew. She tried to shut her mouth and hold back the words that she knew were just ready to spill out.
"Mal, what I can't get past is that you used your best friend without any explanation to her about what was going on in your mind. That's not a fair way to treat Jessi. Look at how much you two have been through."
"Like you know Jessi at all. You've barely spoken to her, ever."
Kristy was about to protest when she realized that Mallory was correct. She couldn't recall ever talking to Jessi about anything other than the BSC. They weren't friends outside of the club, so why should she be defending Jessi as much as she was? Still, what Mallory did was completely uncalled for.
Kristy was about to open her mouth when Claire burst into the room. "Look! I made my own cast, just like Adam!" She was covered in what appeared to be wetted down toilet paper and glue. Kristy sighed and turned to Mal. "Come on, let's get her cleaned up."
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Since it was Thursday night, Dawn couldn't think of anything better to do than clean her room. Her step-dad must be rubbing off on her, she mused, as she folded a pair of socks into a ball and placed it in her color-coordinated drawers. When he suggested this new folding and cleaning system to Dawn, she balked at the idea of changing her habits. After all, this was Richard, the biggest neat freak in the world, trying to put his ideas into Dawn's head. But each weekend, he'd suggest a new task for them to try, like making filing systems for bills or re-alphabetizing the DVD collection. Boring, yes, but it was a quirk of his that Dawn was beginning to like.
Really, what Dawn liked was how Richard was able to categorize and simplify every aspect of his life. When he was depressed, he would sweep and polish the hardwood floors; three hours later, he was in a great mood and took the family out for Chinese. And on a day that Richard was happy, he'd scrub the shower until the minute mold buildup was completely gone. Mary Anne had jokingly suggested that he get tested for OCD once or twice, which Dawn didn't think was a bad idea at all.
They quite possibly lived in the cleanest house in all of Connecticut.
Dawn finished her sock pile and began moving into folding pajamas. This required using a completely different drawer, which Dawn didn't understand. Clearly, pajamas and socks could be placed together. But it was Richard's system, not hers, so she was apt to follow.
Separate by color, fold, put away. Once she started breaking it into a rhythm, Dawn felt completely relaxed. She wasn't worried about Ducky, or Sunny, or anyone. Just relaxing and cleaning. Maybe Richard was onto something. She'd have to talk to him about writing a self-help book.
Dawn's silence was shattered as Mary Anne clomped into the room in a pair of heavy fall boots. "Sorry, was I being too loud?" she asked when she saw the aggravated look on Dawn's face.
"No…it's fine. I'm just doing some cleaning."
"I can tell. Looks good in here." Mary Anne then pulled a typical Richard move and ran a finger along Dawn's dresser. "This thing could use some dusting, though."
Maybe Dawn would have to reconsider the cleaning kick. She had forgotten Richard's tidiness inspections that generally followed.
"So, are you going to hang out with us tomorrow night? Your mom mentioned something about us going to dinner and a movie, and then maybe playing a board game or something."
"Tomorrow? Oh, she never even said anything to me. I have plans with my friend Amalia from Palo Alto. She's been in New York for the past week, but her mom is going to drive her to Stoneybrook to hang out."
"Oh…so it's just me, Dad, and Sharon?" Mary Anne began biting the inside of her lip.
"Looks like it. Aww, don't look so sad. I'm sure it will be really fun. I mean, I would totally go if I didn't have plans."
"Can I come?"
Dawn absolutely hated to refuse her stepsister anything. But it was Amalia's only night in town, and Dawn hadn't seen her in two months. Plus, she wanted to talk to Amalia alone about Ducky. "Mary Anne, I can't bring you with. I'm sorry. It's just that I haven't seen Amalia in ages, and – "
"No, it's okay. I understand. I'm sure we'll have fun," Mary Anne whispered in a robotic voice. "Well, I'm going to head to my room now. See you tomorrow."
After Mary Anne stomped out of the room, Dawn tried to push the conversation out of her mind. Since she had moved back, it was almost like Mary Anne wouldn't let her out of her sight. She kept meaning to mention something, but she was just so busy with catching up at school. All those moves back and forth had put her a bit behind the class, so the piles of makeup work seemed endless.
Although Dawn was concerned about Mary Anne, there was nothing she could do about it. She tried to get Mary Anne to open up, and she wouldn't. Besides, what could be so bad? She had a dad and step-mom who loved her, a cat, and a dreamy boyfriend. Humming to herself, Dawn felt her remorse begin to lift.
Separate, fold, put away. There, that was better.
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Down the hallway, Mary Anne let out a scream into her favorite plush pillow. How could Dawn misunderstand her so much? No, it was even a misunderstanding – Dawn just didn't care about her.
Didn't she know what it was like for Mary Anne when she was back in California? Mary Anne doubted it, because Dawn never even bothered to ask. In fact, she only called home once in a while. That's what made this move back to Stoneybrook so surprising; Dawn had convinced everyone that she was never, ever returning.
And tomorrow night! What was Mary Anne supposed to do all night with her parents? Couldn't Dawn see that her mother was in a precious balance between "not quite all there" and "complete and utter basket case?" As soon as Sharon had suggested Family Fun Night, Mary Anne had hoped that her date with Logan would keep her out of it. However, Logan was so aggravated about their failed study date that he told Mary Anne that he would call her sometime over the weekend instead. Mary Anne was stuck.
Mary Anne didn't even want to picture Sharon's reaction when she heard that Dawn was going out with Amalia for the night. Would it be another night of locking herself in for hours? Or would it be a more manic evening, filled with fake bright smiles and intense enthusiasm for board games? Mary Anne didn't know how much longer Sharon would be able to keep it all together, but she feared that it wouldn't hold out much more – especially if Dawn ever moved cross-country again.
As Mary Anne let out a series of punches onto her pillow, she tried to think back on the last time that she was truly happy. All she could come up with was 8th grade. How sad was it that her life had peaked at the age of 13? If 8th grade ended up being the highlight of her life, how bad could it get from here?
Overall, the happiest she had ever been was post her fabulous makeover. Of course, her friends had been so hesitant to her changes, but she knew how great she looked. She got attention from people who would have never have paid her the slightest of compliments; then, she was instantly popular.
With the BSC now defunct, maybe it was time to make another drastic change. Maybe it was time to branch out, to get past this shy shell of herself who was scared of every shadow and movement. She jumped off of her bed and ran to her closet, hastily flipping through her preppy sweaters and school-marm blouses. As she threw everything onto her bed, she shook her head in amazement. Had she been dressing in the dark? No one dressed like this anymore!
Her memory flashed back to Dawn's extreme makeover, back when her then-pen pal Louis had come to town. Dawn had completely remade her clothes, hair, and attitude, and it hadn't work as well as Mary Anne had anticipated. Of course, Lewis ended up liking the casual Dawn, not the cool girl that Mary Anne had helped her become. Couldn't Dawn have at least given Mary Anne some credit for her help? Didn't she see that Mary Anne was living vicariously through her, trying to get out of her rut with her boring boyfriend, boring family, boring cat, and boring life?
Mary Anne ripped a large gap in the front of a cardigan. She didn't know quite the look she was going for. Alternative chick? Goth girl? Completely punk rock? Whatever it was, it had to be an improvement over her Gap sweaters and Banana Republic jeans. She ripped holes through each pair of pants, laughing to herself as she went along. Her family had no idea what was coming.
After she had trashed her wardrobe, she began rifling through her small bag of makeup. It was decent, mostly neutrals and earth tones, but she figured a trip to the drug store would help that.
What was left? Ah…her eyes lit up on her long hair. Ever since the BSC had had such a bad reaction to her short hair and makeover, she had begun to grow her hair out. Now, it was a respectable length, past her shoulders. But maybe now was the time to cut it again. This new Mary Anne remembered how confident she felt with short hair and how much it changed the shape of her face.
The sewing shears that she had used to change her wardrobe were sitting right in front of her. Dawn had always warned her how awful it was to cut one's own hair, especially after her friend Maggie Blume did a complete butcher job on her own hair one night back in California. But Mary Anne was rational. She had patience.
Ever so slowly, she snipped a small section of hair in the front, testing it out. She felt the weight of the shears in her hand, slowly slicing precious inches off. Slowly, slowly, she cut the front section, pleased with her new style. She had bangs! And they looked good!
Mary Anne was ready to tackle the length now. She brushed her hair out and sectioned it off, carefully sweeping the fallen strands into the wastebasket. She was about to begin as Dawn barged into the room.
"Hey MA, what are you up to? Whoa, what happened in here?"
"Oh…just a little cleaning." Mary Anne now took the chance to survey her room, taking in her ruined (or revamped, as she would later tell her family) wardrobe and clumps of hair clinging in the garbage can.
"You cut bangs now? Isn't that a little…childish? I didn't even know people had bangs anymore."
Mary Anne colored and dropped the scissors to the desk. Maybe Dawn was right. Maybe this was a terrible idea.
"I mean, they look again. But it's such a bad idea to cut your own hair. Remember what happened to my friend Maggie?"
Mary Anne nodded and put the scissors back in her desk drawer. Dawn ran out, calling to Mary Anne that she would help her clean as soon as she was done with her own room.
She studied her face in the mirror. She thought she didn't look half-bad. Why did everyone always try to ruin her confidence?
Tomorrow, things were going to change. It was to be a debut of the brand new Mary Anne Spier. But today, she was going to hang onto one old habit to feel better. She grabbed her plush pillow, put her head down, and cried until she dozed off.
But the new Mary Anne wouldn't cry. After tonight, she vowed that she would have no more tears to shed.