"Yeah, but just because she had to go to the bathroom. She forgot it was the first day of school and was about to give me hell for who knows what reason. She is even more horrific in the mornings."
"Sorry. But at least we are seniors! I can't wait to see all the guys again. I am single and ready to mingle."
"You are such a dork! Of course you're thinking about boys. That's all your brain does. Focus girl! This year is our senior year, after graduation I will be free and I'm counting down the days!"
"So what are you going to do after you graduate? Have you decided?"
"Not really, but one thing I'm certain about, I'm getting the hell out of this town and as far away from that woman as possible!"
"Hey, what about me?"
"You can come with me you know. I know you don't think you are smart enough for college but you are. If you put half as much energy into your school work as you do into boys you could be an A student too."
"I know but high school is for fun not learning. Besides, my dad wants me to come work at the shop after graduation. I think I'm going to be stuck in this hell hole the rest of my life."
"What in the world are you going to do at a car repair shop? Besides paint your nails and bat your eyes at the mechanics?"
"I know right. But my dad thinks I can be helpful at the front desk so he can work on more cars. He wants me to start coming by after school to help out. It sucks but at least I can watch the hunky Matt Thomas flex his muscles under the hood of a car. Hubba, hubba."
I start laughing so hard that I actually snort. Just as Amanda says hubba, hubba she raises her eyebrows suggestively at me. I love her so much. She is the only person that knows most of the crap I go through with my mom. We have been best friends since first grade when her family moved here from the neighboring small town of Union. She used to be so shy and reserved but once she got her curves she really came out of her shell. She has long, dirty blonde hair with little waves throughout. Her eyes are blue like the ocean and her skin is fair. She has all the right curves so the boys go crazy for her. She doesn't have many friends because when you are that popular with the boys the girls don't seem to like you as much. That suits me just fine because I like to keep my crowd small. I don't let anyone into my personal life except Amanda. I have a few friends at school but I learned a long time ago not to bring people to my house. I wish we had at least one class together this year but we don't. We part ways after we check out our lockers for the year.
"I will see you at lunch!"
Amanda turns and nods her head in my direction. I head down the hall checking out all the new freshman. I notice a young boy who I've never seen before. My town is small and even though we only have one high school we do have three middle schools. I guess it's not unreasonable that I don't recognize this kid. He has dark features that surprise me for this area. Most of the people in Milford are white or black. We don't have a lot of variety. This boy has dark skin and almost jet black hair with deep brown eyes. He must be Hispanic. Interesting. He's a little young for me but I can admire his boyish good looks. Just then he turns and smiles so big at a tiny girl with blonde hair cut in a cute bob with tan skin, no doubt from being in the sun all summer. She grabs his hand and they head down the hall together. How cute. I find myself lingering in the hall wondering what it would be like to have a boy smile at me like that.
Snap out of it Maggie. Who cares? You had that once and it wasn't worth it. You have to stay focused on school. If you ever want to get away from her you have to stay focused. After my very own verbal bitch slap I turn and head toward my advanced English class. This is my favorite class of the day and I'm kind of bummed that it's my first. It will only make the rest of the day drag by that much slower. I love writing short stories and getting lost in worlds that aren't my own. It takes my mind off the reality that is my life.
After English I have Calculus. No advanced math classes for me. Math and science are my weak points. I struggle to earn A's and sometimes fall short and get a B. That is when I step up the studying and even go for tutoring. Amanda thinks I'm crazy but if I want to get into a good college I need to have good grades. Chemistry is the worst because it involves math and science. It has become my nemesis. Last year I tried the advanced Algebra II class and barely made it by with a C average. So this year I played it safe and stuck with one AP class that I know I can earn an A. Senior year is a light year since I already have most of my credits. I'm on the swim team which meets the requirement for physical education. Thank God because if I had to actually take PE in high school I would die. After Calculus I have study hall and then lunch. That's when I get to see Amanda. It's the only part of our schedule that lines up this year. It sucks big time.
I meet up with Amanda outside the cafeteria. We go through the line together but split up because all the rabbit food that she eats is to the left and all the regular food I eat is to the right. We connect again at the checkout counter. Amanda looks at my tray and shakes her head. "How can you eat like that and look the way you do?"
"What? I like Frito pie, French fries and Cheetos. Besides, you know I run and swim, combine that with my age and I burn everything I put into my mouth. No biggie."
"If I ate like you I would be a cow. Some of us have to watch our figure."
"Some of us work-out." I say as I wink at my best friend. Amanda cracks me up. She loves the way she looks but would rather eat carrots and lettuce than break a sweat. Not me. Give me as much junk food as possible with lots of meat too. No way could I ever be a vegetarian.
Amanda leads us to a table with a couple of guys already sitting down. They take one look at Amanda and practically drool on the floor at the opportunity to sit with her. That's when I shake my head at her and roll my eyes. Of course she wants to sit with the hot guys and flirt while she picks at her food. I give in and put my tray on the table then sit down next to hot guy number 1. It's not like I don't know his name but why bother. He takes one look at my tray of food and turns all his attention to Amanda. I don't mind. I don't have time for boys and their games. It's not that I'm hideously deformed or anything. I have shoulder length light brown hair with a little body to it and light brown eyes with flecks of green in them. I have a slender but toned body. I'm about 5'5" which is average for a girl. I don't stand out in a crowd and I don't want to.
Most of the boys already know that I don't date so they don't even bother with me. I had one serious boyfriend my freshman year that ended in disaster. He was older than me so he is off at college now. I was so grateful I didn't have to see him in the halls more than a few months after our break-up. The rumor mill went crazy over what had happened. After three years people have finally shut-up about our relationship and stopped speculating as to what broke us up in the first place. I learned a valuable lesson from Sam, never bring a guy around my mother.
After lunch I head off to Chemistry to suffer. I focus all my energy on not having a brain hemorrhage while trying to learn this crap. I mean really, when am I going to use this again? At least I have a decent lab partner that is way better at this chemistry thing than me. Her name is Suzy Welch and she is the sweetest girl at school. She doesn't have many friends so she mostly keeps to herself. That's probably why I like her. Her focus on school is even more intense than mine. She is also my tutor when I fall behind. We have study hall together in the morning and spend most of our time working on chemistry. She also helps me with calculus when I stumble in that class. All of her classes are AP and have been all four years of high school except this one. She is a shoe in for any top college she wants to attend. To fill the time before swim practice I have Art, which I also suck at. My Grandmother was an artist but unfortunately I did not gain those genetic skills.
My final class of the day is German. I know it seems a little odd to take a language I will probably never use but just about everyone takes Spanish or French. I like to be different but I will admit it isn't my favorite class. German is not a very romantic language and learning to s
peak it can be quite difficult. Mark is my study buddy for this class. He doesn't mind helping me out when I can't say things the right way or don't know a word. He is super sweet and good looking in that I so don't know I'm good looking kind of way. He has glasses that cover his emerald green eyes and light brown hair that curls just a little. It's just the cutest thing ever. His girlfriend for the past two years is also in our class. She helps me when Mark can't or isn't paying attention. Claire is also super sweet and pretty in her own shy way. She doesn't talk much but I can see why Mark is attracted to her. She has very short dark brown hair that is spiked up in every direction and the biggest blue eyes I have ever seen. They make this class fly by. With their help and some serious luck I hope to get an A.
It is finally the end of the day so I grab my swim gear and head outside to catch the bus to practice. We have to travel to the YMCA to use their indoor pool since our summers are only warm enough for outdoor pools about three months out of the year. The swim season ends right around the end of September so I will have to figure something else out to fill my schedule. The less down time I have the better. I am not the best on the team but my backstroke is my strongest and I can usually place first or second in competition. I tend to be the middle of the pack on freestyle and breast stroke. The butterfly is the hardest stroke and not my forte. We are actually done with most of our meets for the year. I like the swim team. It's great exercise but it's not my "thing". I don't think I have that part figured out yet. I have no clue what I want to be when I grow up. I do know that I want to be passionate about whatever it is that I plan on spending the rest of my life doing. Swim team is a good distraction but not my passion.
Just as I'm about to get on the bus I see the same kid I saw this morning with the short blonde girl. He seems to be waiting for someone. That's when I notice a guy about my age, maybe a little older, pull up in a rusty 1969 black Mustang. I would know that car anywhere. That was my Dad's car. This one needs a lot of work but it's still a beauty. Once I'm able to peel my eyes off the car, I realize that I recognize the guy driving, it's Vincent Moreno. He's known around town as a bit of a thug. He's been in and out of juvy and got kicked out of high school about two years ago. I don't know all the details but I know he's trouble. What the hell is he doing on campus? Just then the younger boy from this morning gets into the car. Of course, their brothers. Hmm. Interesting. As I'm standing there with what I'm sure is a look of deep concentration, Vincent Moreno looks right at me. I'm frozen as we make eye contact. Time literally stops. Well, not literally because that would be pretty cool, but for me it stops. He just keeps staring at me like I'm some sort of anomaly. That's when my teammates come out of the building and I snap out of it. I climb onto the bus and try to forget that one of the scariest guys in town was just looking me over.
Swim practice is great. There is something about being in the water, timing your breathing just right to each stroke that centers me and brings me to a place of peace. That's why I love swimming, you don't have to think, you just move. Being in the water is like second nature to me. I don't really think about anything while I swim laps. I think that's what I like most about being on the swim team. It isn't my teammates or competing but the pure lack of thinking. It is complete bliss to have a safe place to not have to think.
Practice lasts about an hour and then it's back on the bus headed to the school. One of my teammates offers to give me a ride home but I decline. That's the last thing I need. My mother asking questions about who my friend is and why they are hanging out with such a pathetic loser. It's not that far of a walk. It gives me time to prepare myself mentally for all the possible moods my mother could be in when I walk through the door. I really think my mother is bi-polar but she refuses to get any professional help. Anytime you mention the possibility of a mental health issue she loses it and just repeats over and over again that she isn't crazy. I'm no expert but that doesn't exactly seem healthy to me. My mom can be so up and down. She is either manic or depressed. I really don't know which part is better. When she is manic she is all over the place but when she is depressed she just sleeps all the time and when she is awake she's a beast. Since I am the only one around, I get all her frustration and anger.
I slowly climb the steps to my house dreading her mood. I open the front door and put my backpack down. When I look up I'm pleasantly surprised to find her in the kitchen cooking dinner. She must be manic right now. Full of energy and ready to bounce off the walls if she doesn't do something productive. I will take manic over depressed any day. Second thought, at least when she is depressed she sleeps like 18 hours a day. Maybe depressed is better. Hell, they are both bad.
"Hi Mags. I thought I would make dinner since you were at school all day." She knows I hate it when she calls me Mags. Maybe this isn't going to be such a pleasant evening after all. "How was your first day back? Any cute guys ask you out?"
Why? So you can hit on them when they come over to take me out? I ignore her question about boys and focus on school. "School was pretty good. I got Mr. Brown again for English. Chemistry is going to be hard so I will probably have to start staying for tutoring." It's always good to plant that seed now so when the time comes she is prepared. Otherwise she makes an even bigger deal about me not being home when she wants. I really don't get it because most of the time she doesn't even talk to me when I am around. I think it's a control thing with her. She wants to control whatever part of my life she can. I tried to be like her a couple of years ago and it nearly wrecked me so I stopped. Now I just pretend to be a person she can tolerate. She doesn't even know the real me. Amanda is the closest person to me and even she doesn't know everything about me.
"I don't know why you bother learning that crap. I didn't even finish high school and I'm doing just fine. Just find yourself a rich man that will take care of you."
Or find one that will die and leave you with a monthly income until your child turns 18. I wonder what she will do when that happens. I'm sure she hasn't even thought about it. She isn't much of a planner. As soon as I graduate high school the money stops. "I have some homework to do if you don't need my help."
"Don't go. Just hang out with me while I cook. Then you can clean up and go grocery shopping after dinner. I noticed we are out of all my favorites. I also need some laundry done so I have some clean clothes for a change. So what's prissy little Amanda up to these days?"
My mom doesn't like anyone that I focus any amount of attention on that takes away from my attention to her. "Amanda is fine. She is going to start helping her dad after school at the shop."
"That's nice. Maybe I can get a discount on repairs since you are such good friends." That's my mom. Always trying to figure out what she can gain from knowing someone.
"So what are we having tonight?" I don't know why I bother asking. The woman only knows how to make three things, spaghetti, pork chops with rice, and frozen pizza. I do most of the cooking over the summer but once school starts I'm just too busy. I still try to work about 20 hours a week while keeping up my grades so we mostly do take out or frozen food.
"Spaghetti. I know it's your favorite." It's not. It's her favorite. But I sit quietly and keep my thoughts to myself. "Ok. It's ready. Can you get the plates out and fix something to drink?"
"Sure mom." I pull open the old, lime green cupboard door and get two plates and two glasses. Then I head to the refrigerator to see what we have to drink. Of course she finished off the last of the tea. I grab the tea kettle to fill it with water from the rusty kitchen sink. I walk the four steps to the stove and turn the burner on to get the water boiling.
"What the hell Maggie! Why isn't there any tea left? Why didn't you make more when you finished it off? Now we have to wait to eat because there isn't a damn thing to drink in this house. As soon as you finish cleaning up get your little ass to the store so we can have something besides tea. Got it?"
"I'm sorry mom. I'm sorry I didn't make more tea. Why don't you sit down, start eating and I will get
you an ice water until the tea is ready." This is how things go around here. I get blamed for everything even though she knows it wasn't me. I take that blame to avoid an outburst of rage from my mother. I will do just about anything to keep the peace. When my mother loses control it's like something else takes over her body. All reason flies out the window. I never know what is going to set her off. It's usually something little like the tea being gone. She just blows up over tiny things. There isn't a better way to describe her sudden shift in moods. It's almost like flicking a light switch on and off. It happens that fast.
"Never mind. I'm going to eat in the living room and watch TV. Bring me my tea when it's ready. You can do whatever the hell you want. I try so hard Maggie but you don't make it easy to get along with you. You are so ungrateful sometimes. I really don't know why I try."
And just like that the evening is turned to a disaster. It is very rare that she can stand to be in the same room as me for any length of time. She fixes her plate and heads into the other room. I stand by the stove waiting for the water to boil. When the kettle is ready I pour it in the pitcher with the tea bags. While I am waiting for the water to absorb the tea I get her glass and put 2 tablespoons of sugar in the bottom. My mother loves her sweet tea. I personally find it sickeningly sweet so I drink my tea with no sugar at all. After a couple of minutes the tea is ready so I pour it in the glass about half way, stir then add ice. I take it to my mother in the other room. She glances up at me with a look of disgust on her face, grabs the glass from my hand then turns back to the television.
I wish I could say it hurts my feelings but this is how she treats me most of the time. I got used to it about five years ago. I learned to let it roll off of me otherwise I would be a blubbering mess and who wants to be around that? I fix my own plate and sit down at our tiny kitchen table. It's an oak table with three mismatched chairs all different colors. I eat alone as I do most nights. After I finish eating I put the rest of the food away, pull the tea bags out of the pitcher and put it in the refrigerator. Then I head into the living room to gather my mother's dirty dish and empty glass. I immediately fix her another ice tea so she has no reason to complain. I set it on the table in front of her not expecting any sort of thank you or appreciation. I finish cleaning all the dishes and sweep and mop the kitchen floor. Next, I gather up the laundry and start a load. Now comes the fun part. I actually get to drive the car!
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