the day started a new friendship.
Randi was a pixie of a girl. Short, skinny, no curves, she had short blonde hair she wore like a rock-star spiked up. Heavy on the makeup, she looked like a little fairy girl with a big attitude.
Along with Randi came Amanda, who asked that her friends call her Mandy. Apparently, the two had been friends since, like, birth—their words, not mine. I guessed their parents were longtime friends, and therefore, their relationship was a built-in best friend forever at conception. Who knew, but hey, it was two new friends for Angelina. This was what normal teenagers did—made friends.
Amanda was the harsher of the two. Randi was fun loving and full of life. She was quick to speak her mind, but never as an insult unless someone pissed her off. Amanda, on the other hand, was a snob. She looked down on everyone and everything except maybe Randi. Amanda had a serious need to fit in, so much so that she stuffed her bra so no one would know she was as flat as me and Randi.
Amanda was shaped like a pear with no top and a whole lot of bottom. She called it Kardashian butt; I called it curves. Whatever made her feel better. She definitely had her fair share of haters due to her attitude, but I liked Randi, and she came with Randi. We were fast becoming the three amigas. It felt normal, and that was something I could really use in my life.
The desire to be seen as normal was what led me to meeting the girls at the mall for some shopping and a pretzel, because everyone knew mall pretzels covered in cinnamon sugar were the absolute best. Who would have thought going for pretzels at the mall would end up almost costing us everything?
The morning had gone fine. I managed to pick up a handful of cute tops for school and a new pair of jeans. We were at the pretzel stand when it happened.
“What will it be for Princess Angelina Diamante?” Amanda joked when it was my turn to order.
She had called me a Princess since the day I had invited her to my house for the first time, and she had seen my overly girly bedroom that was my sanctuary. Even though Giano had offered to redecorate however I wanted, I liked the room just as it was. To me, it was a piece of the real Angelina I wasn’t ready to let go of, and I wasn’t so sure I ever would.
“Angelina? Is that you?” a female’s voice called out from behind me in line. Turning, I looked at the stranger as panic filled me. My friends seemed to sense the woman wanted my sole attention, so they quickly made their way to a table instead of waiting with me to finish talking to the stranger who evidently knew Angelina.
Swallowing hard, I nodded.
She reached out and grabbed me with both hands, pulling me into a tight hug. “Oh, you poor baby. I can’t believe how different you look. I knew the accident was bad, and you had to have surgery and recovery time, but you … you … You don’t even look like you in the face anymore. Only your hair reminds me of you and”—she gasped, and I felt wetness hit my cheeks—“and … Nylene.” She choked out the last word on a sob.
Pulling away, I looked up into her eyes and watched as the stranger cried. Fear seized me, and I stood frozen, unable to respond as the woman continued her breakdown.
The heavens were looking down on me that day because, before I could think of what to do next, Giano appeared by my side. He reached out and hugged the woman, holding her close until she calmed down.
“Alexandra, it’s been a while,” he softly said into her ear.
She pulled away and wiped her mascara-smeared eyes. “Giano, she’s beautiful. Nylene…” She hiccupped then exhaled loudly. “Nylene would be so proud.”
“Yes, she would,” Giano stated solemnly.
“I miss her. I miss them both,” she added, looking to me.
My stomach hurt as if I felt her pain and grief.
“I know you do. It’s been a hard time readjusting. My angel here has been through more than you know. We had to have time to heal, you
Randi was a pixie of a girl. Short, skinny, no curves, she had short blonde hair she wore like a rock-star spiked up. Heavy on the makeup, she looked like a little fairy girl with a big attitude.
Along with Randi came Amanda, who asked that her friends call her Mandy. Apparently, the two had been friends since, like, birth—their words, not mine. I guessed their parents were longtime friends, and therefore, their relationship was a built-in best friend forever at conception. Who knew, but hey, it was two new friends for Angelina. This was what normal teenagers did—made friends.
Amanda was the harsher of the two. Randi was fun loving and full of life. She was quick to speak her mind, but never as an insult unless someone pissed her off. Amanda, on the other hand, was a snob. She looked down on everyone and everything except maybe Randi. Amanda had a serious need to fit in, so much so that she stuffed her bra so no one would know she was as flat as me and Randi.
Amanda was shaped like a pear with no top and a whole lot of bottom. She called it Kardashian butt; I called it curves. Whatever made her feel better. She definitely had her fair share of haters due to her attitude, but I liked Randi, and she came with Randi. We were fast becoming the three amigas. It felt normal, and that was something I could really use in my life.
The desire to be seen as normal was what led me to meeting the girls at the mall for some shopping and a pretzel, because everyone knew mall pretzels covered in cinnamon sugar were the absolute best. Who would have thought going for pretzels at the mall would end up almost costing us everything?
The morning had gone fine. I managed to pick up a handful of cute tops for school and a new pair of jeans. We were at the pretzel stand when it happened.
“What will it be for Princess Angelina Diamante?” Amanda joked when it was my turn to order.
She had called me a Princess since the day I had invited her to my house for the first time, and she had seen my overly girly bedroom that was my sanctuary. Even though Giano had offered to redecorate however I wanted, I liked the room just as it was. To me, it was a piece of the real Angelina I wasn’t ready to let go of, and I wasn’t so sure I ever would.
“Angelina? Is that you?” a female’s voice called out from behind me in line. Turning, I looked at the stranger as panic filled me. My friends seemed to sense the woman wanted my sole attention, so they quickly made their way to a table instead of waiting with me to finish talking to the stranger who evidently knew Angelina.
Swallowing hard, I nodded.
She reached out and grabbed me with both hands, pulling me into a tight hug. “Oh, you poor baby. I can’t believe how different you look. I knew the accident was bad, and you had to have surgery and recovery time, but you … you … You don’t even look like you in the face anymore. Only your hair reminds me of you and”—she gasped, and I felt wetness hit my cheeks—“and … Nylene.” She choked out the last word on a sob.
Pulling away, I looked up into her eyes and watched as the stranger cried. Fear seized me, and I stood frozen, unable to respond as the woman continued her breakdown.
The heavens were looking down on me that day because, before I could think of what to do next, Giano appeared by my side. He reached out and hugged the woman, holding her close until she calmed down.
“Alexandra, it’s been a while,” he softly said into her ear.
She pulled away and wiped her mascara-smeared eyes. “Giano, she’s beautiful. Nylene…” She hiccupped then exhaled loudly. “Nylene would be so proud.”
“Yes, she would,” Giano stated solemnly.
“I miss her. I miss them both,” she added, looking to me.
My stomach hurt as if I felt her pain and grief.
“I know you do. It’s been a hard time readjusting. My angel here has been through more than you know. We had to have time to heal, you
Similar Books
