Free Diary of an Ugly Duckling by Karyn Langhorne

than
    most of them, anyway. They’re just here to dance
    and hang out.”
    “Then why—”
    “It was my father’s dumb idea. Same reason he in-
    vited you. He actually thought it would help,” she
    rolled her eyes. “But nothing helps. Nothing will
    ever help,” she finished with teenaged drama.
    Audra ignored it, her own dejection forgotten in
    the girl’s self-indulgent revelations.
    “I think it’s nice, your dad caring enough to
    throw this bash for you,” she said slowly. “But what
    do I have to do with it—?”
    “Oh don’t pretend to be innocent!” The girl ex-
    claimed. She inhaled as if gathering up all the attrib-
    utes of her most grown-up self. “I know all about
    this plan you and my father have cooked up.”
    Audra blinked at her for a long second, recovering
    from the pure shock of Penny Bradshaw’s accusa-
    tions. Then she let her hand slip to her hip and shook
    her head. “Look, sweetie. I’m not sure what you think
    is happening here but—”
    “I know exactly what’s happening here,” the girl
    spat with teenaged venom. “You think you’re the
    first ugly woman my father’s asked to ‘talk to me’?
    You think this is the first time he’s invited one of
    his homely co-workers or one of his ‘great person-
    ality’ friends to meet me?” She shook her head.
    “Please.”
    Her words settled over Audra like a shroud.
    Homely co-workers . . . “great personality” friends . . .
    70
    Karyn Langhorne
    “What—what are you talking about, Penny?” she
    demanded.
    “The minute I saw you, I knew he was doing it
    again,” Penny continued, almost as though she
    hadn’t heard Audra’s question. “Trying to find me
    someone to talk to about being a big, ugly giant. A
    tenth-grade freak on the road to becoming a grown-
    up freak—”
    Audra’s heart stilled, stopped. Homely co-workers . . .
    “great personality” friends . . . Talk to my daughter , he’d
    asked her . Talk to my —
    “I—I don’t believe your father thinks you’re a
    freak—” she stammered in a tiny, uncertain voice.
    Penny didn’t hear it. “Of course not. He’s my fa-
    ther! He has to say that I’m beautiful—but I know
    what he really thinks,” Penny railed on to the night,
    seeming barely aware of Audra standing beside her
    in her rage. “I know, because he keeps introducing
    me to the ugliest women he can find!” Her eyes
    found Audra’s, no longer hard with fury but wet
    with unshed tears. “Women like you.”
    It felt like the last straw—the last brick—bringing
    down any remaining illusions Audra had about her-
    self. Ugly, ugly, ugly . . . the word was coming at her
    from all sides now . . . and there were no movie-
    queen lines, no quips or character to erase it. That
    was the reason she was here tonight. That was the
    reason, of all the women in the prison, Art Brad-
    shaw had invited her. It had nothing to do with her
    sense of humor, the things they seemed to have in
    common or even her sterling character. It was just a
    matter of being the ugliest woman in the prison—
    the ugliest woman he could find.
    DIARY OF AN UGLY DUCKLING
    71
    Fatigue, sudden and exhausting, settled over her
    like a garbage bag, hot, stifling.
    “You didn’t know, did you?” Penny Bradshaw
    asked, suddenly grasping Audra’s arm.
    Audra shook her head, not trusting her voice. A
    lifetime of hurt, loneliness and pain seemed lodged
    in her throat. Penny’s image swam in her wet eyes
    and Audra thought she read in them the echoes of
    her own pain.
    “God . . . I’m sorry . . . I thought . . .” Penny whis-
    pered. “Oh my God . . . you like him, don’t you?
    And he didn’t tell you—about Esmeralda or—
    anything?”
    Audra cleared her throat, willing herself to
    speech. “No.”
    “It’s not quite like it seems. My dad isn’t a bad
    guy, but—” the girl sighed. “He’s a guy. You and I
    both know how they are. Niceness and goodness
    and smartness don’t matter. If you’re pretty,