Read Online Best Friends (Until Someone Better Comes Along) by Erin Downing - Free Book Online Page B

swimming—just the two of us—after dinner in the summer. But now neither of us has time for that. The only regular communication I’ve had with either of my parents involves them nagging and me being forced to listen mutely or fight back.
    â€œI bet you both have the kind of families that get each other stuff like hand-knit sweaters and candles for Christmas, don’t you?” I blurted out, feeling defensive. The whole idea repulsed me, the thought that someone’s family would gather around the Christmas tree, opening gifts made with love—everyone oohing and aahing over stupid homemade trinkets. But even though I wanted to believe it was a stupid concept, a huge waste of time and wool, I had sort of always wished for a family like that. Like the families on TV, or in books. “Do you get excited when Santa leaves a fresh toothbrush for you under the tree?” I couldn’t resist picking a little more, making fun of them for something I didn’t have, just because it seemed so crazy.
    I felt myself growing bitter, as I conjured up images of Madeline and Ava in matching sweaters, singing songsaround the campfire, holding hands with their mommy. And then I pictured Bailey and Big Boss Erica, hugging and going out to dinner to celebrate Bailey’s super-duper report card. I despised them for what they had, but I also envied them. Not that I wanted to hold hands with my crab of a mother, but I did sometimes wish that we could talk without ragging on each other all the time. And I wished my dad would look at me the way he used to, before he got too busy to even like me anymore. When we used to do things together just for fun and not just for show.
    Neither Bailey nor Ava said anything, but I could sense that I’d crossed a line. I was picking just for the sake of picking . . . and I suddenly felt like my mom. I’d sensed weakness and pounced, even though no one was pushing back. “I’m sorry,” I said, realizing as I said it that it was true. “I don’t know why I’m making fun of your families. I guess I’m just annoyed by mine.”
    â€œThat’s not my family,” Bailey blurted out. “I don’t know what kind of world you think I live in, but it’s certainly not a hand-knit-sweater and craft family. My mom’s the president of an incredibly busy advertising agency. I actually have to get her assistant to put my swim meets on her BlackBerry calendar. You think she has time to knit?”
    I shrugged. “I guess not.”
    â€œAnd my parents are divorced. I live with just my dad,” Ava muttered. “Madeline and I are lucky if Dad remembers to buy new toothbrushes at all—ever. He’s so spacey that last year he bought Madeline a shirt that was size 5T. Like he forgot that she was nine already and had outgrown the toddler section five years ago. She practically needs a bra, and Dad’s buying her baby clothes.” Ava grinned, then we all started laughing.
    In that moment, as we all laughed together about our parents’ craziness, I realized Bailey and Ava were real people. Not just wannabes, flitting around somewhere outside my circle, looking for a way in. The image of these nice (albeit boring) girls in polished, plain, pitiful lives was momentarily washed away—and they became Ava and Bailey, who were maybe, kind of . . . not awful. For the first time, I realized, I was actually interested in getting to know them. It was possible that they might actually be decent enough to make the end of the summer not totally stink.
    â€œYou know what we should do?” Bailey said, hopping off the couch in a sudden burst of energy. Coco looked up, her eyes only half-open as she shifted into Bailey’s open spot on the couch. “Let’s dance.”
    â€œYes!” Ava squealed. I had never heard her get that loud.I thought Ava only spoke in whispers, apologetic little bits of