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“I thought models were in front of the camera.” I pick up a twig and heave it as hard as I can. It twists in the air and lands two feet away.
“The best models know everything about photography. I know you think you’re special, but you’re not the only one who’s going to get out of Castlebury. My cousin says I should be a model. She lives in New York. I sent her some photographs and she’s going to send them to Eileen Ford.”
“Yeah, right,” I say sarcastically. “And I hope all your dreams come true. I hope you become a model and I hope your face is on the cover of every magazine in the country.”
“Oh, I plan on it.”
“I’m sure you do,” I say, my voice sharp with disdain.
Donna takes a picture of a small bush, its limbs bare. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing.” I hold out my hand for the camera. I’ve spotted a stump that looks interesting. It seems to sum up my life right now: lifeless, cut off at the knees, and slightly rotten.
“Listen, Miss Priss,” she snaps. “If you’re trying to imply that I’m not pretty enough—”
“What?” I scoff, flabbergasted that Donna LaDonna is insecure about her looks. Apparently she has a weakness after all.
“Let me just remind you that I’ve had to take all kinds of bullshit from assholes like you my whole life.”
“Oh, really?” I click the shutter and hand the camera back. She’s had to take bullshit? What about all the bullshit she’s dished out? What about all the kids whose lives have been made miserable by Donna LaDonna?
“Excuse me, but I daresay most people believe the opposite is true.” When I’m nervous, I use words like “daresay.” I definitely read too much.
“Excuse me,” she responds. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
“Ramona Marquart?” I reply.
“Who?”
“The girl who wanted to be on the cheerleading team. The girl you rejected for being too ugly.”
“Her?” she asks in surprise.
“Did you ever consider the fact that maybe you destroyed her life?”
She smirks. “You would look at it that way.”
“What other way is there?”
“Maybe I saved her from embarrassment. What do you think would have happened if I’d let her get out on the field? People are cruel, in case you haven’t noticed. She’d have been a laughingstock. All the guys would have made fun of her. Guys don’t come to games to see ugly women.”
“You’re kidding, right?” I say, as if I don’t believe her. But I do. A little. It’s a horrible world.
I’m not ready to concede the point, though. “Is that how you plan to live your life? Based on what guys like and who they think is pretty? That’s pathetic.”
She smiles, sure of herself. “So what? It’s the truth. And if there’s anyone pathetic here, it’s you. Girls who can’t get guys always say there’s something wrong with girls who can. If you could get guys, I promise we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
“Is that so?”
“I only have two words for you: Sebastian Kydd.” She laughs.
I have to grit my teeth to prevent myself from jumping on top of her and punching her in her oh-so-pretty face.
And then I laugh. “He dumped you too, remember? He dumped you for me.” I grin wickedly. “And I seem to recall that you spent most of the fall making my life miserable because I was seeing Sebastian and you weren’t.”
“Sebastian Kydd?” She sneers. “You think I give a fuck about Sebastian Kydd? Sure, he’s cute. And kind of sexy. And I had him. Other than that, he’s completely useless. Sebastian Kydd has no relevance in my life.”
“Then why did you bother—”
