Things Are Gonna Get Ugly Read Online Free Page A

snack food since she hasn’t been grocery shopping in a week. She claims with the move it doesn’t make sense to shop so we have been eating all of these bizarre things in the pantry like canned pears and boxed curry rice with raisins.
    â€œYou studied? Really?” asks Mom, her eyebrows raised. “Okay, I’m going to trust you on this one.” Her voice rises. I hate when she gets all weird and parent-y on me.
    â€œMom, we’re kinda in the middle of a Leadership meeting. But I’m surprised you’re home at all.”
    She sets her photography equipment down on a cardboard box marked knickknacks, and glances at me so that her eyebrows knit together into a unibrow. “You know, I’m not happy with your attitude lately, Taffeta. We’re in the middle of a move here, and you’re not exactly helping. Maybe there would have been a better place to meet.” Her eyes flick over to Petra and Caylin. “Like one of your friends’ houses where they aren’t in the middle of packing.” Hergreen eyes go squinty and she clenches her jaw.
    â€œAs far as I knew, this was still our house,” I snap.
    She glares at me, and for a moment I wait for a real punishment, but I know she won’t do anything. She feels too guilty about leaving me alone all the time. She licks her dry lips that haven’t seen lipstick in ages. She pinches her nose like she’s got a headache. “Yes, of course, it’s still your house. It’s just that…I’m sorry but I’m just a little stressed. With the move and everything.” She nods at the wall of boxes labeled FM for family room and CL for closet. “Can you believe it, girls? We’re really out of here.”
    No, I cannot believe it. Please stop talking about it. I am starting to regret bringing my friends over to my house for the very last time. I have told them over and over that this move to the Sierra Garden Apartments is only temporary. Until Mom finds us the perfect condo, and when Dad’s movie deal comes through we’ll move into a new house.
    Mom suddenly smiles brightly, which makes me nervous. “I forgot to mention this, Taf. But the yearbook advisor asked me to help shoot Winterfest, which means I’ll be able to take close-ups of you at the dance on your birthday. I thought since you guys are planning the dance you could give me someinsight on what kind of lighting I’ll need. You have such good ideas.”
    What’s she talking about? My mother is actually going to be taking photos at the dance? I give a knowing look to Caylin before asking, “Are you serious about taking pictures at Winterfest? Please say you’re not.”
    â€œCould I be detecting a little embarrassment on your part?” She stomps over to her photography bag and throws it over her shoulder. “Don’t worry,” she says, holding up her hand. “I won’t think of talking to you. I’ll just talk to Tosh.”
    â€œYou’re taking Tosh to my dance?”
    â€œOh, forget it.” Mom snaps a piece of sugarless gum in her mouth. “You’ll thank me when you’re forty and you have those pictures.” She stuffs her dark, weedy hair into a ponytail holder. I remember when it used to look great. Whatever happened to her cutting her hair in layers? Caylin has assured me a thousand times that it is just a stage in the whole I’m a divorced woman saga. “When they’re bummed out, they keep eating. Try to be supportive,” is her mantra.
    I’ve tried. Really. Once I went out and bought her this really great French shampoo. From the looks of it, she hasn’t been using it.
    â€œRemember when I made that mermaid birthday video?” asks Mom. “Aren’t you glad we have that? I think you were turning nine. It was called Little Mermaid Ernestine .”
    My insides shrink and Mom freezes. When she glances at me, her face turns as