knew
how
happy.
Silly Andy.
If only she could tell him of the treachery and deceit Kelsey spread with such glee throughout the land—better known as Kelsey’s Kingdom. How happy would she be when she was the focus of some of her own bad karma, doled by none other than Tara Douglas? She wanted to snicker out loud, but that would be a dead give-away, no?
Okay, ix-nay on the aughing-lay at the misguided man who hasn’t a clue to your evil motives.
Kelsey would be about as happy to see Tara as she would if her favorite brand of nail polish stopped production. She needed to answer Andy, and she needed to do it fast. “We’re not allowed to communicate with Kelsey, isn’t that what Henry just said? So we won’t be spending too much time reminiscing unfortunately. My plan is to enjoy myself. It’s not that I’ll mind the vacation though. It’ll be good to catch a ray or two.”
Andy cocked his head, his eyes growing serious. “You know what I want to know? How can you marry someone you hardly know and let a jury pick the guy? Plus, do it in front of a live studio audience?”
She wanted to laugh maniacally. Because Kelsey had about as many brain cells as a group of Weight Watchers clients at McDonalds, eyeing up the fry lady. She oughta know, she’d been a part of that group for a long time. Lost fifty pounds to prove it.
“Kelsey is looking for something she apparently hasn’t found elsewhere.”
He made a face. “And she thinks she’ll find it on
national television?
”
Tara gulped. “Who can say what motivates a person to expose their deepest desires on national television? I’m sure Kelsey has a reason, just like you and I have our reasons.”
Oh, that was fabulous. Ten for execution…
Andy looked bewildered. Like because she didn’t share his love of a good bikini, her purpose for living would cease to exist. “I know what my reasons are,” Andy smiled, “what are yours?”
Okay, so she’d practiced this in her head a lot in the several hours since being accepted, reminding herself each time guilt assaulted her conscience that payback was the proverbial
bitch
and Kelsey was a bigger one. Here goes. “Well, of course, like I said, there’s the vacation, but also a sense of satisfaction in sending two people off into the sunset with a lifetime of happiness under their belts. If I can help make that happen, then why not?” Tara slapped her practiced smile on, the slow curve upward of her glossy lips, adding just a hint of come hither for mystery. Then she scrunched her eyes shut. Not just because she was such a liar, and she’d fry in hell to infinity and beyond for this charade, but because she was coming closer to seeing Kelsey again and her stomach was on fire.
She felt like she was going to
die.
“So what do you do for a living?”
“I’m a chemist in a perfume factory. ” Tara watched and waited for the yawn that usually accompanied that statement. No one on the planet found chemistry interesting but her and Bill Nye the Science Guy.
There it was… A big disinterested yawn, exposing every filling Andy owned. “Cool, ” he winked at her, “I write commercial jingles.”
Tara’s stomach rolled with a vengeance. “That’s fascinating.” Not really, but if it would shut him up so she could focus on her funeral arrangements she’d be grateful.
Roses; she’d like to be buried with roses; a sea of them in fact … maybe her best friend Louise would read a heartfelt eulogy about her life.
Tara Douglas, high school geek turned sometime Sports Illustrated cover model/ chemist/avenger of all things dork-like—died today as she planned the demise of her high school nemesis Kelsey Little.
She’d snort at that thought if she could summon up the energy to suck in some H2O. Tara clenched the arms of her chair, digging her nails into the plastic, fighting the next wave of nausea. The room began to clear as the jurors waited for the golf carts to take them to their huts. Each sat
how
happy.
Silly Andy.
If only she could tell him of the treachery and deceit Kelsey spread with such glee throughout the land—better known as Kelsey’s Kingdom. How happy would she be when she was the focus of some of her own bad karma, doled by none other than Tara Douglas? She wanted to snicker out loud, but that would be a dead give-away, no?
Okay, ix-nay on the aughing-lay at the misguided man who hasn’t a clue to your evil motives.
Kelsey would be about as happy to see Tara as she would if her favorite brand of nail polish stopped production. She needed to answer Andy, and she needed to do it fast. “We’re not allowed to communicate with Kelsey, isn’t that what Henry just said? So we won’t be spending too much time reminiscing unfortunately. My plan is to enjoy myself. It’s not that I’ll mind the vacation though. It’ll be good to catch a ray or two.”
Andy cocked his head, his eyes growing serious. “You know what I want to know? How can you marry someone you hardly know and let a jury pick the guy? Plus, do it in front of a live studio audience?”
She wanted to laugh maniacally. Because Kelsey had about as many brain cells as a group of Weight Watchers clients at McDonalds, eyeing up the fry lady. She oughta know, she’d been a part of that group for a long time. Lost fifty pounds to prove it.
“Kelsey is looking for something she apparently hasn’t found elsewhere.”
He made a face. “And she thinks she’ll find it on
national television?
”
Tara gulped. “Who can say what motivates a person to expose their deepest desires on national television? I’m sure Kelsey has a reason, just like you and I have our reasons.”
Oh, that was fabulous. Ten for execution…
Andy looked bewildered. Like because she didn’t share his love of a good bikini, her purpose for living would cease to exist. “I know what my reasons are,” Andy smiled, “what are yours?”
Okay, so she’d practiced this in her head a lot in the several hours since being accepted, reminding herself each time guilt assaulted her conscience that payback was the proverbial
bitch
and Kelsey was a bigger one. Here goes. “Well, of course, like I said, there’s the vacation, but also a sense of satisfaction in sending two people off into the sunset with a lifetime of happiness under their belts. If I can help make that happen, then why not?” Tara slapped her practiced smile on, the slow curve upward of her glossy lips, adding just a hint of come hither for mystery. Then she scrunched her eyes shut. Not just because she was such a liar, and she’d fry in hell to infinity and beyond for this charade, but because she was coming closer to seeing Kelsey again and her stomach was on fire.
She felt like she was going to
die.
“So what do you do for a living?”
“I’m a chemist in a perfume factory. ” Tara watched and waited for the yawn that usually accompanied that statement. No one on the planet found chemistry interesting but her and Bill Nye the Science Guy.
There it was… A big disinterested yawn, exposing every filling Andy owned. “Cool, ” he winked at her, “I write commercial jingles.”
Tara’s stomach rolled with a vengeance. “That’s fascinating.” Not really, but if it would shut him up so she could focus on her funeral arrangements she’d be grateful.
Roses; she’d like to be buried with roses; a sea of them in fact … maybe her best friend Louise would read a heartfelt eulogy about her life.
Tara Douglas, high school geek turned sometime Sports Illustrated cover model/ chemist/avenger of all things dork-like—died today as she planned the demise of her high school nemesis Kelsey Little.
She’d snort at that thought if she could summon up the energy to suck in some H2O. Tara clenched the arms of her chair, digging her nails into the plastic, fighting the next wave of nausea. The room began to clear as the jurors waited for the golf carts to take them to their huts. Each sat
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