My Parents Are Sex Maniacs by Robyn Harding

Author:Robyn Harding
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: JUV039020
Publisher: Annick Press Ltd
Published: 2009-01-31T16:00:00+00:00

17

I cry more in the next few days than I did when my dad left us. It all just seems so real now. I officially come from a broken home. My dad is alone, cast off, soon to be wandering the streets in his socks, bottle of cheap wine in hand, muttering and swearing about the blow job that ruined everything. My mom is becoming increasingly absorbed in her new career-woman life, basically ignoring my emotional breakdown and my brother’s inevitable descent into psychosis. (Who knows what sick plans he’s concocting locked away in his room for hours on end?) None of this would be insurmountable if I just had a best friend to help me through it. But no! My BFF hates me now. And to be honest, I think that’s what hurts most of all.

Of course I’m still incredibly angry with Sienna. Her blind belief in Sunny’s version of events is nauseating. But the end of our friendship means the end of so much more. It’s the end of our hopes and dreams for the future. There will be no loft in New York. No Sienna Lou fashion label. We will never party with Chris Brown or Pharrell Williams or whoever happens to be the coolest person to party with at that time. Of course, I don’t really care that much about the partying bit, but it’s hard to let go of the dream. All I want is to have my best friend back. I want her to come to me and say, Let’s just forget all the craziness that went on the other day. I’m sorry for what I said, but I was upset and hurt. Don’t worry, we’ll be BFFs forever.

But I have known Sienna long enough to know that this is highly unlikely. She does not soften and she does not back down. The whole time Sunny and Len were playing house, she refused to forgive her mother. Even Troy relented and had dinner with my dad—and he was an eyewitness! The fact that Sienna is surrounded by three suck-ups who constantly remind her that I’m a complete loser with a sex maniac for a father makes it even less likely that I’ll get an apology.

School has become basically unbearable. And yet again, my mom is acting like some kind of crazed advocate for perfect high school attendance. “I’m not feeling well,” I say the day after my fight with Sienna.

“You look fine to me. What’s wrong?”

“I think I’m getting my period.”

“Do you want some Midol?” she asks indifferently, painting her lashes with mascara (yes, whether it’s her return to the working world or her new single status, my mother has suddenly shunned her feminist principles in favor of a little mascara and just a touch of blush).

“It won’t help.”

She sticks the mascara wand back in the tube and looks at me. “What’s really going on?”

At this point, I’m almost wishing I’d gone to live with my dad. The mere mention of the word period would have seen me on the couch with a comforter and box of Oreos, no questions asked.

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