Tonya Hurley - 02 Homecoming by Tonya Hurley

Author:Tonya Hurley
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-10-08T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

Die Young, Stay Pretty

Once you're dead, you're made for life.

--Jimi Hendrix

Only the good die young.

Whenever students meet their untimely demise in a horrible accident, from a random act of violence or a rare untreatable disease, they are instantly elevated by teachers, friends, and family into prized pupils, filled with promise--whether they actually were or not. They aren't remembered as a busload of mediocre students who perished in a crash, but are magically transformed instead into upstanding honor roll students in death. We need lost lives to have meaning. It's a comforting delusion, really. Like dead-spin. Unfortunately, you aren't around to appreciate it.

Stuck in the discharge office, Petula and Virginia were getting to know each other, for better or worse.

"Getting older isn't a bad thing," Virginia leaned in and whispered.

"It's not a good thing either," Petula said, turning up her nose as if her dog had pooped in the kitchen. "Everything sags and shrivels."

"A lot of people would feel lucky to grow older," Virginia said, almost somberly. "It's a gift."

Petula stared right through Virginia, seething at the naiveté of the little know-it-all, but then considered that maybe she had stumbled upon a real teaching moment in her life. With the Wendys and other girls at school, she was more of an icon, a role model. She led by example. And Scarlet, well, she would never get through to her. But here was an opportunity to impart her wisdom, to imprint her philosophy on a whole new generation in her own unique way, with this little Virginia person as her messenger.

"No, it's tragic. Youth is a gift," Petula countered, admiring her own poppin' fresh bod. "Just ask any old person."

"That's pretty narrow-minded," Virginia fired back, showing surprising maturity. "What about wisdom?"

"I'd rather be hot than wise any day," Petula said. "I don't want to be one of those people who look back on the days when they were younger as their glory days."

"Not everyone is so unhappy with themselves," Virginia answered. "You are just projecting."

"You don't need to believe me," Petula sniffed dismissively. "Just check out any supermarket tabloid survey."

Petula consumed these things obsessively, not because she cared what others actually thought, but because they tended to reveal insecurities in them, weaknesses she could exploit.

"I've heard about some polls too," Virginia responded. "Like the one where people were asked what they would do differently if they only had a few months to live."

"And?" Petula asked, more curious than she was showing.

"Nothing," Virginia said. "Most people wouldn't change a thing. No Fifth Avenue shopping sprees, no cruises around the world, and no plastic surgery."

"Not surprising," Petula said coolly.

Virginia looked surprised and thought maybe she'd broken through just a little.

"There would be no point," Petula instructed. "The swelling would barely be down in six months."

Exasperation could barely describe Virginia's mood, though she was beginning to admire Petula's consistency.

"What about just changing who you are?" Virginia plied, taking one last shot at her argument. "On the inside."

"The best way to change who you are," Petula answered definitively, "is Photoshop.

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