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blondemoment22

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I crawled from my room at about 7 that night, sore from sleeping all twisted up on the floor, but at least my hang-over had taken off. My mom gave me an I-know-what-you-were-out-doing-last-night look as she mixed up a sickly looking shade of purple on her palette. I raised one hand in surrender and rubbed my eyes with the other.

            “I don’t know what to do with you,” she said, flustered.

            “Maybe if you allowed me more freedom I wouldn’t be forced to rebel against your sadist ways,” I suggested.

            She sighed. “Blame your father for that. Controlling bastard…” She glanced around quickly, worried he might have heard.

            My parents had been teetering on the edge of divorce for years, and were playing the staying-together-for-the-kids card. It made my house a dark, rotting cesspool; hence why I avoided being home as much as possible. My mom kept telling me she’d make a break for it once she’d landed a decent job. She was laid off from her art teacher gig at a high school in another district last year, and it was only thanks to my father’s promotion to CEO of whatever fancy company that we didn’t starve to death.

            “Are you hungry?” she asked.

            I groaned.

            “Honey, you need to eat something.” She stuck the tip of her tongue out and swept her arm across the canvas. “Huh, that didn’t turn out how I wanted it…” she said under her breath.

            “I’ll go make some Mac n’ Cheese or something,” I told her, wandering into the kitchen. I cooked up a family size batch of Mac n' Cheese, cut up two hot dogs in it and practically inhaled it.

            I spent the rest of the evening chillin’ out maxin’ relaxin’ all cool with my hero, the Fresh Prince. My father crept in a few times to grimace at the screen.

            “Stop laughing so loud, I have work to do,” he said after the third time. “And shouldn’t you be doing your homework, young lady?”

            I grumbled something unrecognizable and clicked the volume up one notch. I hate when he calls me young lady. Luckily, the flirtatious ways of Will Smith kept him from returning a fourth time.

            I fell into my television daze after the second show and suddenly it was 12:30am and I still had an English essay to start and finish.

            Alexis headed in seconds after my realization, groggy with sleep. I only gave her time to ask, “You’re still watching—?” before I stormed down the stairs in a panic. I snatched my cell phone off the dresser and texted Aspen. “Forgot about my essay! Save me!”

            Maybe I could write an outline and fill it in during lunch? No, that would never work because Gavin would distract me and I’d end up in some delinquent activity with him.

            Aspen texted back, “Nice. Sending mine to you. Make it look like yours.”

            I hit shift. “I LOVE YOU.”

            That is one positive aspect of having friends.

            I plugged in my laptop and did a quick scan of her essay. That was obviously how one should be written. Aspen’s flawless English grade didn’t surprise me anymore; she deserved it. Too bad I was going to have to butcher her masterpiece to my standards.

            I deleted most of the intelligent phrases and replaced them with simpler ones. A couple paragraphs got completely displaced to interrupt the flow like I was known to do. I even rewrote quite a few parts, and 15 minutes later, I had myself a mediocre essay.

            I saved it and put it on my jump drive, stuffing the thing into the front pocket of my backpack.

            Aspen had texted me, “You owe me.”

            Fantastic. I’d begun the hellacious favor circle. I would make sure to do something slightly less vital for her, and hope she wouldn’t feel obligated to return my favor. She wasn’t really the type of person to do that, but I wasn’t in the mood lately to do more than necessary.

            I brushed my face and washed my teeth and collapsed in bed, wide awake.

            I attempted to evade him, but Gavin lurked in the back of my mind and I was past fighting it.

            Why had he done this to me? Of all the girls he could have sucked face with, he’d picked me. I was the only one who actually cared more about him than his body. I’d been an idiot for him even in his zit stage when everyone else was saying, “If he’d lose the acne, I might like him.”

            This wasn’t the first time it had happened, though.

            During the summer before freshman year, Liza, Tom, Gavin, and I were hanging out near the public outdoor pool, sucking on fancy cigars Gavin had snatched from his step-daddy's private stash.

            I hated the taste of it, but it was peer pressure and it looked ridiculously American Gangster, so how could I resist?

            Liza was coating on the sun block under a tree and Tom and Gavin had stripped off their shirts and were sprawled on the grass near the sidewalk.

            The boys were hissing something back and forth to each other, laughing. I thought I caught something vulgar.

            “What are you two talking about?” I asked.

            “We’re practicing French,” Tom replied casually.

            Gavin tipped his head back and yelled, “Pousser!”

            “Ugh, shut up,” Liza grumbled. “You’re disgusting.”

            He shut his eyes and laughed.

            The four of us sat a while, yelling at the cars blasted ghetto rap that passed by us for interrupting the peace.

            "PJ, come here," Gavin called. "I want to ask you something."

            "That would require getting my ass up off the ground," I said.

            He smiled. "I don't care, come here."

            I groaned dramatically and staggered forward, landing on my knees behind him. "What do you want?"

            He kept the cigar between his teeth as he said, "There's a shiny object across the road in the brush. It calls to me. Go over with me?"

            I rolled my eyes and helped him to his feet. We sprinted across the street on our tip-toes, yelping from the heat of the tar. I followed him into the little clump of trees and bushes for about ten feet. There wasn't anything shiny anywhere. I actually felt very disappointed.

            He stopped suddenly and I ran into him.

            "Erm…" I mumbled.

            "Shh… Are they watching?" he asked, referring obviously to Tom and Liza. I glanced over my shoulder quickly.

            "No. Why?"

            He turned around to face me and kissed me.

            "That's why," he hissed. My jaw hung slack, breath coming in and out wildly. "Now then, let's get back."

            The rest of the afternoon passed by as if nothing had happened, but my mind was on a fritz. As soon as I got home, I pressed my fingers to my lips, desperately hoping that the shock I'd felt in them was just static electricity working against me.

            I never told anyone that. Not Liza, not Aspen or Sarah or Missy; definitely not Kaelyn. By that point, she’d rooted her hatred of him as deep as it could go.

            I wanted to relive the not-so cliché New Year’s Eve kiss he’d given me last year, but I was asleep and dreaming before I could get that far.