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failing in my character that I don’t harbor Ashley’s princess dreams. I am pretty normal looking. Ashley is way above average. That’s just the long and the short of it. I’m not repulsive or anything, I’m just your average girl. I’m okay with that. I just wish my mom was. The idea of both of her daughters in pink ball gowns heading off to prom probably has her teetering on the edge of sanity right this very second.
    It was so fun not to have to worry about any of this on Friday night, to have an escape from it. Sometimes I don’t realize how much time I spend worried that my mom thinks I’m a weirdo. Or maybe she doesn’t think I’m weird exactly, just that she wishes I were somebody else—somebody more like Ashley. Or her. It’s sort of a heavy thing. When I write it down on paper it feels like a big weight. Maybe I don’t give myself enough credit for how much feeling like I’m not enough for my mom just sucks.
    One thing is for sure: I didn’t feel like I wasn’t enough when I was rolling. I mean, I’m not going to become an E freak or anything, but it certainly lifted all of these feelings right out of me and made me feel like everything was going to be perfect always.

Tuesday, April 29
    After school we had a marching band meeting to discuss continuing practices over the summer so we can be ready for the Thanksgiving Day Parade next fall. When I was at my locker dumping off my books before the meeting, I saw Jess putting prom tickets into her purse. Like it was no big deal. Just two prom tickets. Shoving them into her purse. I stood there staring at her until she looked up at me and said, What? And I was like, Um, did you just put two prom tickets into your purse? And I’ll be damned if she didn’t BLUSH. Yes. Jess. Blushing. I was like, Are you BLUSHING? And she shushed me. I said, Where is my best friend and what have you done with her?
    I mean, Jess has sort of filled her role in our class as the big girl with the nice smile. She’s that girl that all the moms at school are always clucking their tongues about and saying shit like, Oh, she’s got such a great smile. If she’d lose some weight she’d be so pretty!
    One time last year, Jess heard one of them say something likethis in the bleachers at a basketball game and just flipped out on her. She tapped the woman on the shoulder and said, OOPS. Yep, I heard that, you skinny bitch. Guess what? I may be fat, but you’re an UGLY ASSHOLE with A BIG NOSE and I can DIET. Or just CRUSH YOU. Careful where you sit.
    Then she stalked off, and a group of freshman girls who had seen this whole thing stood up and started clapping. It was intense. So, Jess is pretty much her own person and couldn’t give a shit what you think of her—or at least she’d say that she doesn’t to anybody who will listen. So, watching Jess get tongue-tied and blush about prom tickets was not something I had ever imagined in my wildest dreams. She’s just not that kind of girl; at least she wasn’t until now. I guess that’s one of the reasons she’s my best friend: She is constantly surprising.
    Jess walked me to my meeting in the music wing and spilled the beans: Her and Kelly hunkered down in a liplock in the hot tub on Friday night? Turns out not just an effect of the ecstasy. I mean, it was, but it’s also . . . real. They are really into each other. Jess is always teasing about how hot some of the girls at school are, but she’s also always talking about how hot some of the guys are, so I never really thought she’d be into dating a girl . . . but looking back, I don’t know why not. I mean, obviously she can date whomever the hell she wants. Iguess my brain has just been trained to think of girls with boys as “normal.” Whatever that means. It’s strange knowing that my brain has these default settings. I was surprised