The Good Girl

Growing up I was always the “good girl.” I never wanted to cause my parents any trouble, and my brother and sister would often call me “goody-two-shoes.” In high school I was a good student. While my brother and my sister were partying and experimenting with alcohol and drugs, I was usually in my room with a book. I recall on one occasion sitting on the front seat of a pickup truck between my sister and the boy I’d begun to date while both drank beer and smoked pot. I firmly refused to try either.