Free The Opposite Of Tidy by Carrie Mac Page B

those trips that her dad had taken her on last year, while the breakup was in full swing. He called them “distractions.” Junie called it guilt.
    The hat fit perfectly and was on the smallish side for a cowboy hat. It was more like the ones Hollywood stars and rock idols could get away with wearing. It looked great on Tabitha. But on Junie? Junie tipped it up a bit. That was better. She looked good. She actually looked really good.
    “But I’d have to wear it to school because we’re going after.”
    “Right. That. It’s too much for school.” Tabitha tilted her head, assessing the outfit. “You’ll have to change after last period.”
    “Or skip school altogether.” Junie winked at her. “I’ll be too nervous to concentrate anyway.”
    “But if you’re ‘sick,’” Tabitha quoted with her fingers, “then your mom won’t let you out of the house to go on a date.”
    Junie shrugged. “What do I care?”
    “Junie,” Tabitha said with a little whine. “Don’t become that girl. Please don’t.”
    “What girl?” Junie spun again. She was genuinely surprised how her reflection pleased her. As if having been asked out made her suddenly better-looking. Was that possible?”
    “The girl from the screwed up home who was the model student until she descended into badass teenage oblivion, ending up a heroin addict on skid row with a pimp for a boyfriend. You know how it goes.”
    “You should be a writer, Tabitha.” Junie took off the hat and shrugged out of the dress. Standing there in her bra and panties, she scowled at Tabitha. “And no. I’m not going to be that girl.”

    Junie stayed for supper again, and only left for home when Mrs. D. said that her mother would probably like to see the whites of her eyes every now and again, just to know that she was still alive. When Junie opened the door, she heard the theme music for The Kendra Show . She glanced at her watch. It was the evening replay of that afternoon’s episode. Junie hung the plastic bag with the dress folded up in it on the knob to the closet.
    “Junie?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Want to come watch this with me?”
    Junie couldn’t see her mom for the towers of stuff, so she had to make her way along the dingy trail to get to her. Never, ever, would Wade know about this. Even if they datedthrough university and got married and had two point five children and a house with a white picket fence and a station wagon, she would never let him into her mother’s house. It didn’t feel like home, anyway. And hadn’t for a long time.
    Her mother held up a waxed cardboard box with a plastic fork sticking out of it. “Pad Thai. Want some?”
    Junie shook her head.
    “You were at Tabitha’s?”
    “Where else?” Junie leaned against a large box containing the Stairmaster exercise machine that had never been set up.
    Her mother paused. Set down the takeout. “I was just asking—”
    “And I answered!” Junie sighed. She glanced back in the general direction of the door, which hadn’t been visible from the living room for at least five years now. Why was it that she turned into a snarky little bitch when she walked through that front door?
    On The Kendra Show , a father was weeping, his head in his hands. He’d piled the kids into the minivan one hot, busy weekday morning, dropped the two older ones off at school and then left the baby asleep in the back seat while he took the train to work, mistakenly thinking that the baby had gone with his wife and not with him. He’d forgotten about the baby all day, and when he’d returned to his car that evening, he’d found her dead in her car seat, having died from the heat.
    “Why do you watch that stuff?” Junie cringed as a picture of the infant flashed on the screen, chubby cheeks and toothless grin.
    “That poor father,” her mother answered. “I’ll bet he dies over and over every single day, reliving his mistake.” Her eyes filled with tears. She lifted the corner of her shirt and wiped