acmodate—regardless of how much she barked or demanded or
intimidated； it was not happening。You remind me of myself when
I was your age 。
Fuck her。 Fuck Paris and fashion shows and marathon games of
“I’m so fat。” Fuck all the people who believed that Miranda’s
behavior was justified because she could pair a talented
photographer with some expensive clothes and walk away with
some pretty magazine pages。 Fuck her for even thinking that I
was anything like her。 And most of all； fuck her for being
right。 What the hell was I standing here for； getting abused
and belittled and humiliated by this joyless she…devil？ So
maybe； just maybe； I； too； could be sitting at this very same
event thirty years from now； acpanied only by an assistant
who loathes me； surrounded by armies of people who pretend
they like me because they have to。
I yanked out my Cell Phone and punched in a number and watched
as Miranda became increasingly more livid。
“Ahn…dre…ah！” she hissed； much too ladylike to ever make a
scene。 “What do you think you’re doing？ I’m telling you that
my daughters need passports immediately； and you decide it’s a
good time to chat on your phone？ Are you under the very
mistaken impression that’s why I brought you to Paris？”
My mother picked up on the third ring； but I didn’t even say
hello。
“Mom； I’m getting on the next flight I can。 I’ll call you when
I get to JFK。 I’m ing Home。” I clicked the phone shut
before she could respond and looked up to see Miranda； who
appeared genuinely surprised。 I felt a smile break through the
headache and nausea when I realized that I’d rendered her
momentarily speechless。 Unfortunately； she recovered quickly。
There’s a small chance I wouldn’t have gotten fired if I’d
immediately pleaded and explained and lost the defiant
attitude； but I couldn’t seem to muster one single； tiny shred
of self…control。
“Ahn…dre…ah； you realize what you’re doing； do you not？ You do
know that if you simply leave here like this； I’m going to be
forced—”
“Fuck you； Miranda。Fuck you 。”
She gasped audibly while her hand flew to her mouth in shock；
and I felt not a few Clackers turn to see what the motion
was。 They’d begun pointing and whispering； themselves as
shocked as Miranda that some nobody assistant had just said
that—and none too quietly—to one of the great living fashion
legends。
“Ahn…dre…ah！” She grabbed my upper arm with her clawlike hand；
but I wrenched it out of her grip and plastered on an enormous
smile。 I also figured it’d be an appropriate time to stop
whispering and let everyone in on our little secret。
“So sorry； Miranda；” I announced in a normal voice that for
the first time since I’d landed in Paris wasn’t shaking
uncontrollably； “but I don’t think I’ll be able to make it to
the party tomorrow。 You understand don’t you？ I’m sure it’ll
be lovely； so please do enjoy it。 That’s all。” And before she
could respond； I hitched my bag higher up on my shoulder；
ignored the pain that was searing from heel to toe； and
strutted outside to hail a cab。 I couldn’t remember feeling
better than that particular moment。 I was going Home。
18
“Jill； stop shouting for your sister！” my mother screamed
unhelpfully。 “I think she’s still sleeping。” And then； a voice
came even louder from the bottom of the stairs。
“Andy； are you still sleeping？” she screamed in the general
direction of my room。
I pried open an eye and checked the clock。 Quarter after eight
in the morning。 Dear god； what were these peoplethinking ？
It took a few times of rocking from side to side before I
could muster enough strength to pull myself to sit； and when I
finally did； my whole body pleaded for more sleep； just a
little more sleep。
“Morning；” Lily smiled； her face ing within inches of my
own when she turned to face me。 “They sure do get up early
around here。” Since Jill and Kyle and the baby were Home for
Thanksgiving； Lily had been forced to vacate Jill’s old room
and move onto the lower half of my childhood trundle bed；
which was currently pulled out and nearly level with my own
twin…size bed。
“What are you plaining about？ You look psyched to be awake
right now； and I’m not sure why。” She was propped up on one
elbow； reading a newspaper and sipping a cup of Coffee she
kept picking up and placing down on the floor next to the bed。
“I’ve been up forever listening to Isaac cry。”
“He’s been crying？ Really？”
“I can’t believe you didn’t hear him。 It’s been incessant
since about six…thirty。 Cute kid； Andy； but that whole
early…morning thing has got to go。”
“Girls！” my mother screamed again。 “Is anyone awake up there？
Anyone？ I don’t care if you’re still sleeping； just please
tell me one way or the other so I know how many waffles to
defrost！”
“Please tell her one way or the other？ I’m going to kill her；
Lil。” And then toward my still closed door： “We’re still
sleeping； can’t you tell？ Fast asleep； probably for hours
more。 We don’t hear the baby or you screaming； or anything
else！” I shouted back； collapsing backward on the bed。 Lily
laughed。
“Relax；” she said in a very un…Lily…like way。 “They’re just
happy you’re Home； and I； for one； am happy to be here。
Besides； it’s only a couple more months； and we’ve got each
other。 It’s really not so bad。”
“A couple more months？ It’s only been one so far； and I’m
ready to put a bullet in my head。” I yanked my nightshirt over
my head—one of Alex’s old workout ones—and put on a
sweatshirt。 The same jeans I’d been wearing every day for the
past few weeks lay rumpled in a ball near my closet； when I
pulled them over my hips； I noticed that were feeling snugger。
Now that I no longer had to resort to gulping down a bowl of
soup or subsisting on cigarettes and Starbucks alone； my body
had adjusted itself accordingly and gained back the ten pounds
I’d lost while working atRunway 。 And it didn’t even make me
cringe； Ibelieved it when Lily and my parents told me I looked
healthy； not fat。
Lily slipped on a pair of sweatpants over the boxers she’d
slept in and tied a bandana over her frizzed…out curls。 With
her hair pulled off her face； the angry red marks where her
forehead had met shards of the windshield were more
noticeable； but the stitches had already e out and the
doctor promised that there’d be minimal； if any； scarring。
“e on；” she said； grabbing the crutches that were propped
against the wall everywhere she went。 “They’re all leavi