Page 75 of Fundamentals of Being a Good Girl
“He’s kind of famous,” she explains, “but he uses a stage name, so maybe you wouldn’t have guessed. It doesn’t matter right now. What does matter is that when I was growing up, he made a lot of money. A stupid amount of money. The kind that should have made everything okay forever, except his skeevy manager ran away with most of it, and by then Nolan had already blown his share. And my dad died and my mom had bipolar disorder and needed to be home, and money was so tight, Bram, likeNolan paying for groceries one meal at a timetight, and usually with scrounged-up change. And then Nolan made it big again. He’s married and on TV and has a financial adviser, and he could afford to move Mom out to California and pay for the expenses at Pepperdine that weren’t covered by my scholarships. And I met Gentry, and it felt like here was my Cinderella story, at last, thank God. But you know how that fairy tale ended.”
She looks down at the ermine, her bob swinging forward to curtain her face. “All of it was outside my control. It was like life happened to me—money, lack of money, housing, lack of housing. I had no agency. No idea when things were changing. No way to change things myself.” She blows out a breath, ruffling the precisely cut ends of her hair. “So yes. If you’re saying that a new beginning would be a building with my name on the lease and a business that I owned, that I made the choices for...” She looks up at me through her lashes, a small, knowing smile on her red lips. “My answer would behell yes, please and thank you. And not only would I have control of where things went, but I could actually make thingsgoodif I had my own place. I could make them the way they should be. So much of our lives is spent living in a world that’s been made by other people, by their greed or apathy or well-meant intentions—doesn’t the idea of making the world match what youknowcould be better make you excited? And if you had your own little world, like a bar, then you could start right then, without delay, no waiting time required.”
Her words dose me like caffeine, waking me up, jolting my pulse. I had felt like this too, once upon a time, like shaping the world for the better was not just a dream but a demand, and I’d answered the demand, me and Sara with some borrowed babysitting so we could go off to fight greed and plunder.
I think about that younger Bram sometimes, about what he was willing to risk to change the world. How I’d gotten so disillusioned with both the right way of doing things (research and protests and policies) and the wrong way (Sara and I clambering up construction equipment in the dark) that I’d ended up choosing the way most adults take by default... the slow way. The way of mostly meaning well and hoping that being a decent person in the same spot for twenty years would be enough.
My phone buzzes in my pocket and I pull it out as Maddie finds a place for the weasel on my windowsill.
Leo:I didn’t want to say anything while she was there, but my guy is writing his report on a certain Mr. Gentry Cooper Wade III now.
Leo:God, who names their kid Gentry. It’s so on the nose. It would be like naming me Distressingly Handsome.
Leo:Looks like he’s decided to run on the tried-and-failed “I can be just as narrow-minded as my opposition about things normal people haven’t cared about for thirty years” platform.
Leo:There’s a video of him saying that America’s literacy issues are tied to porn. LOL. As if typing out MILF isn’t important spelling practice???
Leo:Anyway, my guy is going to send the report sometime in the next couple of weeks or so.
Leo:You can thank me by admitting that Cole McKenney isn’t real.
I put my phone away and tap my fingers on my desk, feeling restless and energized and a little bit like that younger Bram again.
Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to do the right thing the wrong way just one more time.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Maddie
Junie:Happy Halloween!
Maddie:It’s the sluttiest day of the year! I saw you in your cat ears when I was walking over to Salih. So cute! I’m sorry I couldn’t make it in time for coffee this morning. Got caught up with my boss.
Junie:You mean Professor Bram Loe, who was ranked as Mount Astra’s third most eligible bachelor in last spring’s quarterly release of theAstra?
Maddie:Is that a real thing? I cannot wait to constantly refer to him as Bachelor #3. Do you know who took spots two and one?
Junie:I think—despite not even LIVING in Mount Astra—Leo Saint James bought his way to number one*and number two was John Stickney, the carpet king of Terrell County.*Anyway, big plans for Halloween?
Maddie:Nah. Just taking the twins trick-or-treating and then prepping for my lectures next week. What about you?
Junie:Would it surprise you if I said I haven’t dressed up for Halloween since I dressed as Joan of Arc in high school and then was relentlessly made fun of because, I guess, my costume didn’t lend itself to enough lingerie?
Maddie:Am I a bad friend if I say no?
Junie:No, no, you’re not a bad friend. It was all very on-brand for me. Well, I might have woken up this morning and chosen violence when I bought two wristbands for the Terrifyingly Tipsy Bar Crawl along the Snake Pit near campus?
Maddie:JUNIE. ELLIS. Are you getting drunk tonight?
Junie:Um. Not if I have to do it alone.
Maddie:Say no more.
Junie:Would you be interested in a slightly scandalous couples costume?
Maddie:Would I be interested in stumbling up and down a row of college bars with our barely covered asses on display on this chilly fall day with you? Yes. Yes, I would. It’s time for you to reclaim Halloween, my friend.
IFICOULDN’Ttell Berry and Letty apart before today, then Halloween would be the ultimate test of their individuality.
