I hurry and try to make it home fast because now Harmony is complaining she has to pee really bad. I unlock the door with my key and before I enter; I stretch my arm along the living room wall and flick on the light. “Okay, Harmony come on.” I flick the light on in the bathroom and keep it on even after she’s done.
The sun is on its way to sleep for the night. I lock the screen door but keep the front door open. Just in case something happens and I need to grab Harmony and run out real quick. I walk past our landline and pull out my cell and call, Melody. “That real messed up how you left us, Mother!” I yell into her voicemail. “When are you coming home?” I sigh, press the end button, and fumble through the mail on the table. I gaze at Melody’s bank statement. “Ten-thousand dollars!” I yell breaking Harmony’s concentration from her cartoons.
“Can I have some juice?”
I grab a stool and reach up high in the cabinet to grab one of Harmony’s old Sippy cups, pour her some juice, and hand it to her.
“Not in this cup! This for babies.”
“What color is the sofa you’re sitting on, Harmony?”
“Whipe.”
“And what color is the carpet its sitting on?”
“It’s whipe too.”
“And what color is your juice?” She fills her mouth with juice, holds her head back, and opens her mouth. Juice spills from the corner of her mouth and drips onto her white Piccadilly skinny jeans. “Stop!” I make her close her mouth and gulp it all down.
“Oops!” She stares down on the splash it made on her jeans. “The juice is red, Symphony.”
“Exactly! So why would you do that?” I rush her into the kitchen, toss her pants into the kitchen sink, and immerse them in cold water.
I look around our posh condo. It’s going to have to be a lot of changes around here with only ten-thousand dollars in the bank. I shake my head because I just can’t believe Melody wouldn’t tell me something like that. How are we supposed to live on that? She doesn’t have a job and never had as long as I’ve been on this earth. Everyone says we look alike. I guess we do when I really think about it, but I will never be like her. I will never depend on someone else to pay my way through life. If I get money, it will be because I earned it from my skills and talents.
I walk past the mirror in our walkway and I can’t help but stop and stare at myself. I am one fine female if I do say so myself. And I do say so and so does everyone else. I run the palm of my hand over my flat abs. All that running, push-ups, and sit-ups were definitely not done in vain. I grab my cell and take a quick selfie. Nice! I have to load that one as my profile pic.
I look down at our Reflection foyer table where some of my trophies and photos are and notice a folder from Chanel’s Modeling Service. I open it and flip through. She also had brochures stuck inside for beauty pageants. I know she doesn’t think I’m going through all that again. I am too old nor do I have a desire for any beauty pageants right now.
I text Melody from my cell and tell her she needs to hurry home because Harmony and I were starving. Melody keeps our house looking fly. It’s always neat and clean and she always cooks. Well, that is when she’s home. If I don’t come home in time for dinner, she’ll prepare my plate and have it sitting in the microwave or on top of the stove.
My mother was a neat freak when it came to house cleaning. Her dishes never sat in the sink for long. If you ate something and there were no dishes in the sink, it was your responsibility to wash it yourself. My little sister and I could leave our rooms a mess and knew like clockwork it will be cleaned by the time I get home. But don’t get it twisted, it’s not like either of us kept a dirty room or did it on purposed because we knew Melody would clean it up. Melody was not a maid and we wouldn’t dare treat her as such. I always secretly wondered if my mother had a mild case of OCD.
Melody didn’t have too many house rules, just give respect and you’ll get it. Respect her privacy and she’ll respect yours. If a door was closed, it was closed for a reason so don’t even bother knocking unless it was a dying/fire emergency. My mother schooled me on sex long time ago. Her rule was, if you’re going to do it, be responsible and protect yourself, your body, your heart, and don’t bring no baby’s home because me and the baby both would be living on the street.
On my16th birthday, my mother was so happy that I had made it without getting pregnant. I quickly busted her bubble and told her not to celebrate until I was 17 just to make sure she didn’t jinx it. Melody had given birth to me when she was 16 years old. When she turned 18, she changed her name from Melanie to Melody to harmonize with Symphony. Then she had Harmony four years ago, and the rest was history.
I stop and am frozen stiff trying to figure out what that noise was I just heard. I look over at Harmony and she’s curled up on the sofa still watching cartoons about to fall asleep any minute. I check the screen door to make sure it’s still locked and go sit down next to Harmony on the sofa. I dial Melody again, still voicemail. Ooh! She makes me so sick! I contemplate if I should call Roman and see if he wanted to stop by.
5 CHAPTER FIVE
Hunter SANTOS
I have nobody. I have surrounded myself with people who are fake just because I need to talk to somebody.
~Nikki Reed
Fitting In (Is Hard to Do) Semester 1 Page 4