BILLIE
“Hi, I’m Abby, and I’m the black sheep of the family.”
I shake the hand offered to me by the skinny brunette with purple streaks in her hair. Between her punk rock clothes and her perfect cat’s eye eyeshadow, she was the coolest girl I’d ever met.
“That’s what our dad says when the topic of Abby’s vocational ambitions comes up,” Dominic tells me.
“We’re simply too old money rich for a hairdresser in the family,” Abby says. “Why couldn’t I be interested in the law?”
“Wait until he finds my t****k videos on nineties culture. I don’t think he even knows what a cultural critic is,” says Dominic.
I smile at them both, inwardly wishing I had parents capable of caring about who I grew up to be. My father died before I could speak and my mother is my mother.
“Hi Abby, I’m Billie.
