Page 82 of All the Beautiful Things
Lingerie, regardless of Sandra’s opinions, would not be on that list.
“Hell if I know. I’ve never had a serious boyfriend at Christmastime but I doubt Hudson expects anything from you.”
No one expected anything from me. That wasn’t the point. They’d all given me so much and I wanted to do something nice for them.
“You’re no help,” I muttered and pulled the door open to Don Julio’s. I was immediately assaulted with loud, typical Mariachi music and the scent of hot, spicy dishes making my mouth water.
“Table for White,” Angie said, at the hostess stand.
Dinner was a loud, rambunctious affair with the girls at one end and Josiah and a few of his friends at the other.
Sitting directly across from me was a high school friend of Angie’s, Tamara, who was home on Christmas break from Iowa State. When Angie introduced us, Tamara jumped right in and said the two of them had been friends since they were in diapers.
“So what’s it like?” I asked, and picked through my fajita veggies, shoving the green peppers off to the side.
“What, college?”
“Yeah. You like it?”
“It’s the best decision I ever made,” she said, and her eyes flickered to Angie before returning to mine. “Angie and I, we grew up with a lot the same. Moms who worked too hard to really be there. Dads who either couldn’t be there or didn’t want to be in my case. I go to school with those daughters and sons of Pinterest moms and perfect homes and you know what I learned, always thinking I had it rougher?”
“What?”
“Everyone has it rough in this life. There are no easy streets for anyone, that’s just all the bullshit we think pretty people have because they’re pretty.”
Her words were a punch to my chest. I’d assumed the same of Hudson.
How many had assumed the same as me growing up?
“Angie told us where you were. I don’t give a shit. Some might. I don’t. I already met too many people from homes that were probably like the one you had way back then and I can guarantee, whatever you grew up with, I could say theirs was harder. Moms who started drinking with their morning orange juice and showed up wasted to PTA meetings. Dads who either showed up with fists and insults or didn’t show up at all. College… it gets you out of your head, out of your comfort zone and shows you a shit ton about real life. It’s fucking awesome.”
She grinned, amber-colored eyes sparkling with the truth of it.
I looked at Angie. I wasn’t necessarily angry, but surprised? A little letdown. I’d trusted her with a lot of personal stuff I didn’t need to be broadcasted. “You told her?”
She had the grace to flinch. “Sorry. It’s just, I tell her everything. Always have. And if I had thought for a second she’d be stupid enough to repeat it, I wouldn’t have.”
I figured that wasn’t quite the truth based on Tamara’s laugh. She reminded me of Jenna in a way. She seemingly didn’t care about anyone else’s opinions of her. And oh… to be that confident and self-assured. Perhaps then I wouldn’t still be simmering in embarrassment over how I handled myself today.
I’d think about me later. I’d have a whole night of it, probably. Maybe a weekend. Turning back to Tamara, I asked, “What are you studying?”
“Elementary education. So I can go back to where I came from someday and teach all those bratty shits about the real world.”
She winked and I laughed.
“What about you?”
“I don’t know.” I picked at the green peppers.
“You got time.”
She shrugged like it was so simple.
“I’m twenty-six.”
“So?” She took a bite of her enormous taco and chewed. Once she swallowed she asked, “Who says you have to have your future figured by a certain age?”
Angie elbowed me. “See? Told you my friends were awesome.”
