“Is that so? Well, the store was slow today, so they cut half the staff and sent us home early. If that hadn’t happened, I wouldn’t have been here to receive an interesting phone call.”
My worst nightmare had come true.
“The school informed me that my daughter was marked absent. I told them they must be mistaken. I dropped you off myself this morning. Then, to my confusion, they said they were happy you were finally feeling better. Again, I thought they had the wrong girl. They proceeded to tell me that for the past month, I’ve been calling up the school and excusing your absences. I told them that was ludicrous. Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, I find out you’ve been missing school for the last two and half months.”
“Mom, I—”
She shot me the most chilling glare that stopped me mid-sentence. “What are you trying to do to me, Alexa?”
“This has nothing to do with you.”
“It has nothing to do with me? But you enjoy making me suffer more than I already have?”
“Mom, don’t play the sympathy card,” I said, rolling my eyes.
“Listen to the way you’re speaking to me. This is not my daughter,” she said, on the verge of tears. “All this sneaking behind my back, the smoking, and your attitude change these last few months. It’s like someone has invaded your body and taken the real Alexa away from me.”
“Whatever. I’m the same as I’ve always been.”
“You’re in denial.”
“Whatever.”
“I realize all this acting out is because of your father’s death, but your behavior is totally out of control.”
“My behavior? You should talk. What have you been doing for the last eight months, Mom?” I yelled back at her. “Why don’t you tell me!
Mom pointed a fierce finger at me. “Don’t you dare throw this back at me.”
“So it’s okay for my mother—the one who is supposed to be setting the example—to lay around bawling her eyes out every morning to the point where she can’t even get out of bed? You’re such a hypocrite.”
Mom’s hand slapped across my cheek with an air of supreme authority. “Don’t you ever talk to me like that again.”
The sting of that slap lingered like a numbing toothache. I was in shock. Never in my life had Mom been physical with me. “We’re done talking,” I said simply.
“I have only a few more things to say. Then you can go do whatever it is you insist on doing these days.”
“Right,” I said as my eyes filled with tears.
“We’ve both had to make sacrifices this past year, Alexa. Do you think I enjoy working at that Godforsaken grocery store for measly minimum wage pay? Do you think I’m happy with skills that only involve cooking and cleaning and having people treating me like an invalid because of it? You think you’re the only one suffering, but you’re old enough to know that your actions not only hurt you but me as well. Is that you want?”
“No,” I said quietly. “That’s not what I want.”
“You’ve missed almost three months of school—nearly a semester! Do you know how that makes me feel?” She stared at me with tear-ridden eyes. “What kind of mother doesn’t have the slightest clue that her daughter hasn’t been to school for two and a half months?”
“It’s my fault, Mom, not yours.”
“No, it’s my fault. I’ve been so selfish and completely caught up in my own emotions. But now, that’s all going to change.”
I hung my head low, feeling foolish and embarrassed.
“We’ll be meeting with Principal Marsh tomorrow morning. I can tell you right now that it doesn’t look good.”
***
The next morning, we sat in Principal Marsh’s puny office. Ironically, it was the same scenario I experienced almost three months earlier. Only that time was a mere warning. He turned his attention to my file in front of him and looked over it meticulously.
While Principal Marsh scrutinized my whole high school career, I studied the framed photos scattered across his desk. I couldn’t tear my eyes off the picture of him with his young son at the park or another photo of him and his wife at the beach. Principal Marsh looked content in each photo, oblivious to the reality of anything ever happening to his perfect family. What a fool, I thought.
“Before we talk about Alexa’s future here, there is something I feel the need to bring up.” Principal Marsh took off his glasses. “I would like to be frank.”
“Certainly,” Mom said, sitting up straight and dignified. “Please speak freely.”
The principal turned his gaze toward me. “Alexa, I know you’ve been chummy with Rochelle Woods. In my opinion, she couldn’t be any worse of an influence on you.”
Mom's eyes darted back and forth. “Rochelle Woods?” she asked. “I’ve never even heard of a Rochelle.”
“Rochelle Woods is a senior here. She has serious problems at home and at school. Alexa seems to have made herself familiar with Ms. Woods in some capacity.”
I suddenly recalled not seeing Rochelle the day before. “Wait—what happened to her? What did you do?”
“Rochelle’s been taken to jail. She was caught shoplifting at a clothing store yesterday.”
Mom shot me a look of disbelief.
“Mom! Stop looking at me like that.”
“According to Alexa, this was the girl who called the school and got her absences excused,” Principal Marsh explained.
Mom’s mouth dropped. “This just keeps getting better and better, doesn’t it?”
Principal Marsh turned his attention back to my personal file. “Now, let’s get to more important things, shall we?” He opened my folder, scanned the contents once more, and then closed it. “I wish I had better news.”
“What do you mean?” Mom asked.
“Like this school sucks,” I announced.
Mom faced me, her eyes ridden with disappointment. “Alexa, you are on thin ice with me. I suggest you can it.”
“Alexa has missed a semester of school this year, and being that it’s so close to graduation—” Principal Marsh paused for a second and cleared his throat. “What I’m trying to say is that it will be nearly impossible for her to make up her grades.”
“So what are you getting at?” Mom asked.
“It’s best that Alexa be expelled, and removed from school.”
“What? You can’t do that!” I protested.
“Alexa, I told you two and a half months ago that if you didn’t shape up, that there would be consequences for your actions. You didn’t shape up, and here we are.”
“There has to be another alternative,” Mom said in a calm matter.
“This school can’t subdue itself and be held responsible for students who choose to practice delinquent behavior.”
“Delinquent behavior? I ditched a couple times. So what?”
“Like I said, it would be unfeasible to make up three months of school and raise her GPA at the same time. I can recommend some good continuing education schools that will enable Alexa to still get her GED.”
“This is bullshit,” I shouted.
“Alexa!” Mom yelled back at me. “You aren’t about to see the light of day for a very long time.”
Principal Marsh simply stared at me with a look of pity. “I’m sorry. I wish there was more I could do, but you were warned, Alexa. The decisions and choices you’ve made left us no option, I’m afraid.”
“Are you sure there’s nothing else?” Mom asked again. “Maybe you could just put her in detention for the rest of the school year?”
“No, I’m afraid not. Alexa is considered a liability, and we can’t continue to keep her here. I know your family has been through a great deal. I’m sorry it has to be this way.”
***
No one made a sound until we got back to the house. After several hours, Mom finally spoke. “Well, you’ve certainly done quite a number on yourself, haven’t you? What are you going to do now, Alexa?”
All I
knew was that my world was crumbling around me. “I don’t know yet.”
“You just got yourself kicked out of school. What’s next?”
“I said I don’t know.”
“You’re almost eighteen. Soon, I won’t legally have control or responsibility over you anymore.”
I looked at the floor, unable to bring myself to look her in the eyes. “I’ll get my GED at one of those continuing ed. schools he mentioned.”
“And then what? You sit around here for the rest of your life?”
“No, I want to go to college.”
“You better start thinking of what you want to do with your life. God help you, I don’t want you to end up like me.”
***
On prom night, which I missed out on, Ruth asked me to do her makeup. She brought up some interesting news while I was dusting gold shimmer on her eyelids.
“So did I tell you?” she began. “I got accepted to Berkeley.”
“Wow. Congratulations. I’m really proud of you.” As happy as I was for her, those same uneasy feelings—that fear of abandonment I had when Carter told me his good news stirred up inside me.
Ruth sensed the selfish worry I was trying to hide. “I know what you’re thinking,” she said. “Berkeley is upstate, but I’ll still visit during my breaks and on holidays. I won’t forget to email and call you.”
“You’ll do great, Ruth.” I stared at her perfectly blushed cheek and held a mirror in front of her face.
“You are really good at this, Alexa. I mean it. Your work looks so professional,” she said, touching her cheek. “Wow. Just gorgeous.”
“Don’t touch,” I reprimanded her.
“You should be getting paid for this like those girls at the mall do.”
That was still my little secret, and little did she know, I was already looking into it.
Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner?
1993
Having a friend who attended the same school with me and lived right across the street really had its advantages. Carter and I had a lot of the same classes, so we often planned study sessions at each other’s houses. His mother, of course, was not too fond of this routine—or rather, she was not too fond of me. On more than one occasion, I overheard Carter and Mary bickering about me being in his room or why I couldn’t study at my own house. There was no pleasing her no matter how hard I tried. The woman didn’t like me, and I couldn’t do anything about it. To make matters worse, I got the feeling that she caused the arguments between the two of them on purpose. I was privy to the way she manipulated Carter into doing things that he didn’t want to do. Fortunately, Carter wouldn’t budge when it came to our friendship, no matter how hard Mary tried to break it up.
***
Carter and I spent Sunday afternoon playing basketball and video games. Before we knew it, the day had turned into early evening. Mary was out at Darren’s basketball practice that night, so I thought I would ask Carter to stay for dinner. Of course, Mom and Dad happily obliged, as they couldn’t think of a better dinner guest. I was always thrilled to set one more place setting since we rarely had guests over. I always looked forward to Sunday dinners because it was spaghetti night. With Mom being half-Italian, she sure knew how to make an amazing pot of pasta marinara and fresh garlic bread. The inside of my house always smelled like roasted garlic. Nothing was more comforting than walking into my home and the aroma of fresh herbs and ingredients hitting my senses like a tidal wave. Carter ate at my house several times before and loved my mom’s cooking—and I couldn’t blame him.
In my family, it was routine to eat every meal together at the table. We never sat in the front of the television with a frozen dinner or grabbed something quick and ran out the door. Meal time was family time.
“So, Carter—Alexa tells me you have some new auditions coming up?” Mom said as she passed me the tray of garlic bread. That evening she wore a yellow cotton sun dress, and her hair was pulled back in two brown barrettes.
“Two big ones,” I interjected proudly.
Carter twirled pasta noodles around his fork, took a bite, and swallowed it down before he replied, “My mom set up a soda commercial and a small part in a new kids’ television show.”
“How do these auditions work, Carter?” As though in deep thought, Dad took a small sip of his red wine and pondered. “You just show up?”
“Oh no,” Carter replied. “I have an agent who finds me the auditions. He works everything out with my mom.”
“Carter’s mom makes him go to every audition, even if he doesn’t really want to go,” I stated flatly.
Mom winced in confusion. “Well, that doesn’t seem very fair now, does it?”
“Son, do you actually like going to these auditions, or do you feel forced?” Dad asked with concern.
Carter shrugged. “I do what I have to do,” he said softly. “It’s really all up to my mom, not me.”
“But you enjoy what you do, right?” Mom helped herself to more spaghetti and added some to my empty plate. “Alexa, you need to eat more. Since when did you become so dainty?”
Carter pushed the food around on his plate and twirled the long noodles in the tines of his fork. “Most of the time, I enjoy it,” he said moments later.
Dad half-smiled and replied, “Well, then that’s all that matters.”
I knew Carter well enough to know he was holding back more than he let on. For one thing, he hated being called away for auditions when he was in the middle of hanging out with me. He complained to me more than once about how he never had any time to see his friends. Mary never gave Carter any leeway when it came to his social life. No matter how much Carter kicked and screamed about not wanting to go, she dragged him to those darned auditions anyway. Clearly, she did it more for herself than for her son. At least that was the impression I got.
“Carter said the best auditions are the ones where he gets to sing,” I said, taking a mouthful of broccoli.
“Ah, so you like to sing?” Dad asked.
Mom’s small, delicate mouth nearly dropped in astonishment. “Well, this is quite a surprise. We must hear you sometime, yes?”
I felt uneasy about my parents peppering Carter with all these questions, but instead made the most of it.
“He’s really good,” I chimed in.
Carter brightened and said, “Sure. I can sing anything.”
Knock…knock…knock…knock…knock…
Whoever repeatedly banged on our front door did so with some kind of urgency.
“Are we expecting someone?” Dad asked Mom.
“Not that I know of.” Mom rose from the table. “I’ll get it.”
“Honey, it’s dinner time. Come on—”
“Martin, please. It could be important. I can’t just ignore it.”
I glanced at Carter and could have sworn that I saw the color drain from his face. It was as if he expected the Grim Reaper to be knocking for him.
I ignored the gut-wrenching feeling in the pit of my stomach and asked, “Dad, could you pass the salad please?”
I heard that irrefutable deep-throated voice coming from the doorway moments later, “Where is my son?”
Mom came back to the table with a flustered expression; her forehead was lined with worry. “Carter, your mother is looking for you.”
Carter dropped his fork onto his plate with a loud clank and trekked from the table, undeniably panic stricken.
I wasn’t about to let my best friend take a tongue lashing alone. I rose from my chair, intending to join him.
“No,” Dad said, placing an unyielding hand on my arm. “You stay here.”
I couldn’t just sit there and do nothing. As his best friend, it was my responsibility to stick up for him. I was the one who invited him for dinner in the first place. “Um, I’m done eating. Can I take my plate to the kitchen?”
“That’s fine,” Dad agreed. “You go and come right back, you hear me?”
Mom sat back down at the table and said,
“We mean it, Alexa. No meddling.”
“Okay, okay. I get it.”
I did take my plate to the kitchen sink, but of course that was not my only intention. I had a good view of the front door while I was in there. Mary hadn’t come inside the house. She stood outside in the doorway dressed in cut-off denim shorts and a thin pink cotton shirt. She had just got out of the shower from the looks of it. Her bleach-blonde hair was wet and completely slicked back, and I didn’t detect a trace of makeup on her face. She looked so much older without it, like an old woman on the verge of skin cancer.
I watched Mary rip into her son as I hid behind the kitchen wall.
“What in hell do you think you’re doing?” Mary scolded in a slight whisper.
Carter exhaled deeply. “I’m just having dinner, Mom. It’s no big deal.”
“No big deal?” Mary crossed her arms in apparent disgust. “Hmm. How convenient that you forgot about your ten-o’clock audition tonight.”
“But, Mom, it’s only eight, and I—”
“I don’t give a shit what time it is. You are well aware that I expect you to prepare well in advance.”
Carter looked down sheepishly. The submissive son was back. “I know, but Mom, I’ve been practicing my lines all week. It’s gonna be fine.”
“I’ve heard enough excuses for one night. Get your things—NOW,” Mary commanded. “You’re coming home this minute.”
“But I haven’t even finished eating yet,” Carter retorted. “It would be just—just rude.”
“Eating? We are planning your future here, and you’re worried about eating?” Mary threw her hands up in defeat. “Boy, sometimes I don’t even know why I bother with you.”
“Mom, please. Can I just stay a few more minutes?”
“You’re coming home now. And you damn well know how I feel about you hanging around that girl.”
“Alexa—”
I jumped at the sound of Mom’s voice. She stood in the middle of the kitchen with her arms crossed. A stern look was spread across her face.
Forever Blue Page 10