The Girl Who Wanted Everything

The girl I couldn't escape

"You absolute BITCH!" Jamie said, before her open hand made contact with my face. But wait.  Back up a minute, because I am not the kind of girl who generally gets into catfights. Let me start at the beginning so that I can explain.

Was there ever a girl in your life who was just annoyingly perfect? For me, that girl has always been Jamie. 

Jamie is beautiful, and popular, and she has, for lack of a less-sexist term, balls.  When we were thirteen, she dragged me into an expensive boutique with no money in her purse and made me try on everything just for fun. She didn't care that she never intended to buy anything, or worried that she was inconveniencing the sales assistant. She had fun, and laughed, and left without another thought. I, on the other hand, felt ashamed for our rudeness and envious that I didn't possess Jamie's confidence. You wouldn't think it's possible to feel both at once, right? Apparently, it is.

This sort of thing happened to me again and again over the years because Jamie was always there. Our mothers have been best friends for as long as I can remember you see. I could never escape her. Ironically, it was Jamie and I that brought them together in the first place.

Our mums met at a baby group when we were less than a year old. Of all the babies, Jamie was the first one to reach out for the plushie flower, to roll over and to clap. I, always fussy and querulous, had to constantly be walked up and down outside to calm.   Jamie's mother Ronnie was there to offer my mum her sympathy and support for all the trouble I gave. With a baby as easy as hers, she had the time and energy to share.

It turned out that we would never shake those early reputations. I tried, but I was small and introverted; I overthought everything and considered my words and responses too carefully. People found me quiet and unapproachable, intense, and cynical. Jamie, on the other hand grew tall and graceful, light-hearted, and playful and people were drawn to her like a tractor beam.

I must have been about nine when I really understood that I was jealous of Jamie. I had begun to develop a passion for animals. I would spend hours sitting quietly on our porch feeding tiny pieces of cheese to the birds or watching a frog who lived in our pond. 

My parents never allowed me to have a pet though until that year when I found a waifish stray puppy on the sidewalk. I am amazed my mum let me keep Scruffy. He was so mawkish and bedraggled, his belly swollen with malnutrition. I think she knew what was likely to happen if we handed him over to the shelter. In hindsight, he was about as ugly as it is possible for a puppy to be, but he was the only pet I was likely to get, and I loved him. I could pour out all my shy and hesitant affection on Scruffy and he would never judge me. I thought he was glorious.

Not long before, Jamie had started at my school. Until then, I had snuck by as ordinary Nadine in class.  Jamie ruined that. Her arrival positioned me once more as nothing but a small, dark counterpoint to Jamie's golden perfection. 

"They have known each other their whole lives? Then why aren't they friends?" I imagined the other girls whispering. "It must be because Nadine is so weird.'' Maybe even, "Poor Jamie, having to hang around with a freak like her". 

Then came the day of the pet picnic. I don't know which sadistic teacher came up with the idea, but it was intended to be a treat for us at the end of the term. Children could bring their pets along to school and a picnic would be shared on the sports field. This was my chance! I finally had a pet of my own and now I could show the other girls my wonderful Scruffy. I would be socially validated as the owner of the world's cutest puppy.

The day of the pet picnic arrived, and I prepared Scruffy as well as I could. He was a short-haired animal, descended, perhaps partially, from a sausage dog. The red bow I had planned did not want to remain on any part of his person, so I eventually settled for a small green and blue friendship bracelet placed around his ankle. Getting Scruffy prepared and into the car was a wrestle which resulted in us arriving at school ten minutes late.  

Everyone was already assembled on the field when we scrambled in: me puffing and Scruffy whining and pulling on his leash unhappily.  But no-one noticed. There in the middle of the field was Jamie cradling the world's smallest golden labradoodle puppy. It was a mere pompon of the palest champagne fluff, with shiny little black button eyes and a tiny pink tongue that peeked cheekily from between its teeth. Tied above its brow was a delicate red ribbon, identical to the one I had tried to attach to my unwilling Scruffy. The other girls were going mad over the creature. 

 "Please can I hold him, Jamie. Please! Please!'' 

"No, it's my turn next! Jamie told me I was next." I looked down at Scruffy who was impolitely licking his undercarriage. Did I want him to be that flaxen glamour-dog? Of course not. But did my love for him did waver for just the briefest moment? Perhaps.

The thing was, Jamie never even wanted a puppy. She didn't like dogs, and very soon after the picnic, the dog became Ronnie's responsibility. He was only ever seen in Jamie's company when she took him jogging for her own safety, the pair making a show-stopping couple as they bounced through the neighborhood. 

Had the whole incident been just for spite? Surely, she couldn't have known what that picnic would mean to me. I couldn't help but feel that nothing was ever enough for her. She had all the looks and all the charm, as well (I realised as we grew older) all the money. It was as if she had to have everything.

While that was the first time I could articulate that I was jealous, the seeds of envy had actually been planted well beforehand and they were based on something far more primal. You see, Ronnie and my mother were not the only two mums who "clicked" out of the women in that baby group. As fate would have it, they found there another kindred spirit, a woman named Giselle, who had brought along the most beautiful baby boy - Sam.