Page 31 of Fundamentals of Being a Good Girl
Chapter Ten
Maddie
This is the day from hell.
Of course Dr. Wallace barged into my classroom just as I was finishing up. He took one look at me and asked if I’d like to borrow his stain stick, because I obviously needed it more than he did. I didn’t even bother dismissing the class. Instead, I slammed my laptop shut, flipped on the lights, and then stormed out. And of course, Miranda was in the hall talking to another professor and I could feel her watching me as our conversation about not letting Dr. Wallace walk all over me rang in my ears.
Oh god, what if Grandma Boy complains about me taking his quiz and calling him a stale doughnut? I was within my rights to ask him to leave the room, butstale doughnutis definitely not in the classroom control toolbox, and if I lose this job—
No, I can’t think about that right now. I’ll think about it later, when I’m not exhausted and covered in coffee stains. Except now, I stand in front of my street parking spot to find it unexpectedly empty. No car to be found.
Was it stolen? Why would someone steal my old Volvo? It guzzles gas like Nolan did store-brand SunnyD when we were kids.
But, oh fuck, if it was stolen, then... that car contains everything I own.
“Green Volvo?”
I turn around to see the meter officer talking to me. She wears sunglasses even though it’s a cloudy day and her low ponytail is all business. The woman has never in her life broken a rule or allowed one to be broken in her presence. There is no talking my way out of this.
She hands me a slip of paper that is titledRetrieving a Towed Vehicle.
“Towed? Seriously? This is open street parking. It says right there. Every day from six a.m. to six p.m. and all day on the weekends.”
She leads me closer to the sign and points to a much smaller stipulation at the bottom.STREET SWEEPING ON THE FIRST AND THIRD THURSDAY OF THE MONTH. TOWING STRICTLY ENFORCED.
“But—but—” She’s not wrong. It’s right there on the sign. This woman with her Founding Father’s ponytail is absolutely correct.
I feel that fullness at the back of my eyes and tears begin to burn.
No. I am not crying today. I am not going to think about how it’s going to cost me a small fortune to get my car back. I am not going to cry.
“The bus picks up at the end of the block,” she tells me. “Goes all over town. And it’s free for students and faculty.”
“Great,” I tell her, doing my best to regain my composure. “Thank you.”
I am not going to cry.
IT TOOK MEsitting through one and a half loops and studying the routes on my phone before I found the closest stop to Letty and Berry’s school, but thankfully I wasn’t late.
The girls are waiting near the car pickup line when Berry sees me waving from the patch of grass where the walking parents wait.
I wait for the crossing guard to let me cross the line of cars to retrieve them both and they excitedly take each of my hands.
Letty is brimming with energy at the change in routine and Berry is distracted by every weed disguised as a flower that we pass.
“I thought we could walk today,” I tell them. “The leaves are starting to change, so maybe we can pick up some of our favorites for a special craft after your playdate with Aniq.”
Once we cross the street into the neighborhood, Berry skips forward while Letty stops and picks a few dandelions.
“Berry’s getting flowers for her boyfriend,” Letty sings.
Berry marches over to Letty and throws the dandelions in her face.
“Letty,” I warn. “No teasing. Berry, no throwing.”
Letty’s brows knit together and she thinks for a minute before begrudgingly apologizing. Berry mumbles something in return.
The girls’ best friend, Aniq, lives only two blocks away and this playdate is a pretty regular occurrence, but the girls can get a little testy with each other over sharing a friend. They both simmer as we continue on and take my hands again after a few minutes of moodiness.
