“Most parents would worry if you were a safe driver,” Ashlyn muttered. “Or simply be glad their daughter has a friend. But my mother has to talk eating and exercising habits. She’s trained a few of the lesser known celebrities, so she thinks she’s really fancy.”
Ashlyn ducked into a door on the left, headed for the dresser, and pulled open one of the drawers. “I bet your mother isn’t like that.”
“My mom…” Summer always expected it to be easier to say. No matter how many times she said it, though, it hit her as hard. “My mom died a little over a year ago. But no, she wasn’t like that.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“It’s okay. I’m dealing.” Not always the best, but what else do you say when someone says they’re sorry for something they couldn’t do anything about? Summer might’ve been able to, but it was too late now.
One of Summer’s darkest periods was a couple months ago, around the anniversary of Mom’s death. It was when she’d been mean to Cody and fought constantly with Dad. Mostly because she hated herself so much she couldn’t even deal with life and wanted everyone to just leave her alone.
Not wanting to think about that, Summer turned her focus to Ashlyn’s room. The purple mini lights strung along the top of the walls gave off a soft glow; curtains made from vinyl records hung over the window; and the shelves and dressers were covered in knickknacks, including bright-colored candles and vases.
Ashlyn draped the clothes she’d picked out over her arm. “So, do you have brothers and sisters?”
“Nope. Just me and my dad. We get along pretty well most of the time. I’m kind of annoyed with his new girlfriend, though. She tries so hard, and even though she is nice, I want to yell at her to get away from me. I’ll never be close to her, I’ll never consider her my mom, and I don’t know why she doesn’t just leave me alone.” Summer let out a long breath. It felt good to get that out, though guilt immediately soured her insides.
“Funny. That’s how I feel about my mother.” Ashlyn moved into the adjoining bathroom. She stepped out of view, but kept the door open.
Summer shook her problems out of her head. She needed to help Ashlyn and her mom, not make it worse. “Your mom loves you, though. She probably just has a funny way of showing it.”
“I’m a disappointment. The woman who whips people into shape can’t even get her own daughter to be skinny.” Ashlyn sighed. “It’s not like I haven’t tried. It’s hard for me to go to the gym, but I surf, skate, walk—I even eat healthy for the most part. And I still can’t lose weight.” She came out of the bathroom, wearing a blue top and dark jeans. “You wolf down fries and you’re still crazy skinny. Life’s so unfair.”
Summer wasn’t sure to say to that. “I got my dad’s metabolism. He eats horrible but never gains a pound. I guess I’m lucky.”
“No guessing about it. I would kill for your thighs. But I’ve got these” —Ashlyn squeezed her legs—“and that’s just the way it is.”
“You’re really pretty, you know. And your hair is so shiny and straight. Mine doubles in size when I’m near the beach, blond frizz sticking out all over the place.”
Ashlyn glanced in the mirror and ran a hand down her hair. “Mother doesn’t seem to care about hair, though. She cares about pants size, that kind of thing.”
“What about your dad?” Summer thought maybe he could somehow help her.
“Oh, my sperm donor?”
“He’s not around much, then?”
“No. He literally was a sperm donor.”
Summer laughed. “Sorry, it’s not funny.”
“No, it is. And Mother’s disappointed I somehow got the fat gene. When she chose a donor, his profile specifically said he was in shape. So either he lied, or I’m dysfunctional.” Ashlyn pulled out her phone and glanced at the display. “You want to see when the next show is, or you wanna hang out here? I do have an awesome music collection, if I do say so myself.”
Hanging out here would definitely be the way to get to know Ashlyn better. “Let’s kick it here then.”
With any luck, Summer might also be able to get a better read on Ashlyn’s mom. After seeing how they interacted, she started to think this job was going to be more difficult than she expected. Open communication already existed—a little too open.
She and Ashlyn listened to music, laughed and talked, and had way more fun than they would’ve in a movie theater where they would’ve had to be quiet.
At the end of the night when Summer drove home, one thought kept running through her head:
Chapter Nine
The next day, Summer found herself back in Ashlyn’s room, sitting on the bed and listening to a chill mix of The Weeks, Jimmy Eat World, and Silversun Pickups. Ashlyn stacked magazines in the corner of her bedroom.
“Wow, that’s a lot of fitness magazines,” Summer said, eyeing the giant pile.
“My mother reads through them, then brings them up to my room so I can read all the tips.” Ashlyn picked up one of the glossy magazines. Like all the others, a bikini-clad girl graced the cover. “You know what they all say?”
“What?”
“All the celebrities say they don’t believe in denying themselves anything. Then they go into detail about how they eat salad and non-refined foods, but they still splurge once in a while. Their splurges are like three bites of ice cream. Or one cookie. Someone should tell them that’s called denying themselves. Instead, they’re, like, in denial of their denial. Who would choose to eat three bites of ice cream once a week?”
Summer rolled onto her stomach, feet dangling off the edge of the bed. “Definitely not me. I’m a sugar junkie. I believe that eating salad only makes you hungrier. Same with rice—basically anything that’s supposed to be healthy.”
“I’ve tried all the diets, and I was always hungry. Then I never lost weight either, so I was hungry and fat.”
“You’re not fat.” Summer gave Ashlyn a stern look. “And don’t talk about my friend like that. Now, what’s next on your to-do list?”
Ashlyn smiled. “I’m glad you came over again. I can’t believe you want to help me.”
“Chores are always more fun with help.” When Summer had called and asked Ashlyn if she wanted to hang out again, Ashlyn said she had to do her chores. So Summer offered to come keep her company.
Ashlyn grabbed the list her mom had left off the dresser. “Room’s clean, so now we need to walk the dog.”
“Whenever I think of walking dogs, I think of when my dad and I first moved here and we wanted to go to the beach. We followed the freeway to the end, not really knowing where we were going. We were walking along the beach, and everywhere we turned people had dogs. I was like, ‘What is this? Dog Beach?’ Then we saw the sign. It really was Dog Beach.”
Ashlyn laughed. “Well, we could go down to Dog Beach to walk Buddy if you want. I’m always down for a trip to the shore.”
Summer pushed off the bed. “Cool. Wait. Your dog isn’t a big, mean dog is he?”
“Nope. He’s a big, friendly lab.”
“Let’s hit the beach then.”
“Get off my butt, dude,” Ashlyn said, glancing in her rearview mirror. Her eyes moved to the car in front of her. “And what’s your deal? The speed limit is twenty-five, not five.”
Summer smiled. “You talk to the other drivers?”
Ashlyn switched lanes, passing the brown clunker they’d been following. “Yeah, I know it’s silly. My mother always looks at me funny when I do it.”
