Read Online She's All That by Kristin Billerbeck - Free Book Online Page A

in her early twenties, I would say. Max is in his mid-thirties—and a geek. Have I mentioned that? This is the inequity in the world that makes you want to give up on the male species altogether.
    â€œReally?” I say to gorgeous Valeria. “Nana’s helping you cook?” Just what the world needs, a goddess who can cook. “Where are you from?”
    â€œI am Russian. My father was Indian,” she says with the accent you expect from an übermodel.
    â€œWonderful. Glad to have you here.” I grab my grandmother’s arm. “I need to speak with you about something.”
    â€œAfter dinner. Sit down, it’s ready.”
    â€œI’m not hungry, Nana. It’s sort of important.”
    â€œThat’s why you’re so skinny; you never eat. Don’t be rude. It’s been ages since Max has seen you, and I don’t want Valeria to think I didn’t raise you right. Max always asks what you’re up to, don’t you, Max?”
    â€œI’m skinny because of genetics,” I explain to Valeria, as if she has any interest or desire to know about my DNA structure.
    She smiles condescendingly. Like we don’t have a complete lack of eligible bachelors here in the City, we have to import beautiful women from other countries to completely throw our chances out the fifty-fourth story window? Melting pot, my foot! The immigration laws should definitely say something about being homely or married. It’s one or the other, people! Good-looking? Available? No entry. I mean, doesn’t the Statue of Liberty even say that? “Give me your tired, your poor, your homely…” Something like that.
    â€œIt’s good to eat and enjoy; that’s what Solomon says in Ecclesiastes. He was the wisest man in all the Bible,” Nana continues as she puts more dishes on the table.
    Valeria whips out a new place setting, and I sit down. I know when I’m beat, and my education has nothing on Solomon. I don’t need the sermon to that effect. If I want to have a conversation with my Nana, I will be eating.
    â€œI’m here every Sunday night, Lilly. If you ever came to see me, you’d know that. Max, do you want wine?” Nana is poised with a bottle opener.
    â€œNo, thanks. Valeria might.” Max sits down and grabs Valeria’s hand.
    â€œIs Valeria old enough to drink?” I ask, and everyone stares at me. Apparently, this was not the choicest of commentary. Here I thought I was doing well avoiding her statuesque figure.
    Valeria shakes her head to wine, and our whole dysfunctional party sits down for dinner. Max and his very warped harem. Where’s Dr. Phil when you need him?
    â€œWhere have you been, Lilly? It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you around,” Max comments, while scooping up some salad.
    â€œI spent the weekend at a spa with my girlfriends. But I’ve been working a lot. I was hoping for a promotion, but I didn’t get it, so now I have to make other plans.” Here’s where I stuff an over sized piece of French bread in the mouth.
    â€œThat’s because she’s not using the degrees she earned.” My grandmother sits down. “Hold hands; we’re going to pray.” We do. She does. She’s back to nagging. “That incredible brain God blessed her with, and she’s going to be a hunchback as much as she bends over that sewing machine and sketch book and now, the computer too.” She directs her attention toward me. “Is that what you want?” Nana shakes her head. “A Stanford education she doesn’t even use. Valeria, if your grandmother worked herself to the bone for your education, you would use it, no?”
    When I say that my Nana gave up everything for me to be educated, including her home for my master’s degree, I neglect to mention that I will hear of nothing else for the rest of my natural born days. When my Nana is gone, her words