The Boy Next Door

Chapter Ten

Mum turned to me in the car. "How come you have changed your mind? I thought you hated the idea of the prom?"

I fiddled with my fingers, looking down at them. "I do hate the idea. I just don't think I want to miss such a special event."

"Okay, well, we can go shopping now if you like?" she said.

My head lifted, catching her beaming smile. "Now? Like right now?"

"Yes, why not, we have all day, and I doubt you will want to wait until next weekend when all the dresses will be gone. You have left it late as it is." She changed direction and headed towards the bigger shopping outlet.

Mum looked excited. I had never seen her face so bright. It must have been the sleepover that had me in high spirits, but I didn't want to burst her bubble for once. I got the impression through all the nagging and mentioning that all she wanted was the mother-daughter prom dress trip, and I had stripped her from it. I never thought about her once, and I felt selfish for never asking if it was okay if I didn't go. I knew she loved her prom and preparing for it with my granny; it was all she ever went on about once I first mentioned it.

"It wouldn't have anything to do with the boy next door, would it?" Mum cautiously said. My cheeks flushed as I thought about him, and I hid my smirk, looking out the window.

Of course, it was to do with him.

"No, why would it be?" I shrugged.

"Oh, no reason," she mumbled, drumming her fingers against the steering wheel to Bon Jovi.

A few seconds passed. My heart was pounding, and my feet were tapping aggressively against the floor. "Fine, it is," I let out.

Mum looked straight at me. "What? Really?"

As I glanced over, her cheeks were rosy. We never had personal conversations. The only one I remember was when I wanted my first bra and asked to get the pill to reduce the heaviness of my periods.

I wasn't sure what had happened to our relationship over the years – possibly my terrible choice of friends and the impossibility of fitting in. Or the constant mood I was in from the struggle of teenage life. We used to be close, but it had become resentment. I did always long for that close mother-daughter relationship, and to be frank, I knew I would be jealous if she had it with Zoe and not me. I knew I needed to be more myself and let her back in. If I let everything fall into place instead of forcing it any other way, I might be much happier. We would be happier in each other's company.

"Yes, really. Olly is nice and nothing like any other boys I know."

"He is very charming, I must admit."

"He is, that day, I fell over, and everyone laughed at me. Olly helped me up."

"That was kind of him."

"Kind? It was incredible; he is incredible," I gushed, blushing as my words fell out.

"Incredible, hey?"

"Not that it matters. Olly doesn't like me like that, and he won't ask me to prom; no one will," I said. My tone swiftly changed as I spoke, nearly enough to make me change my mind about the idea. Miraculously my deep thoughts beat my wanted feelings every time.

"Wow, Ashley, where is this sudden anger erupting from? You are gorgeous," Mum replied, trying to calm me as my body language stiffened.

"You would say that. You're my mum," I mumbled, looking away from her as tears pinched the back of my eyes.

"What? No. You are gorgeous. Why do you think otherwise? Is it them friends of yours? Is this why you aren't eating as much lately? You're worried about how you look?" Her voice trembled as I wiped the falling tears from my cheek.

"Mum, isn't it obvious? I don't fit in with Lauren, Sophie or anyone. I need to be skinnier and prettier to be popular like them—more sociable, which you don't allow. Because I don't go out at the weekends, I'm a loner. A complete loser with no life."

I confessed how I felt. My lip quivered the entire time as I tried to hold it together, but eventually, I let go and broke down, silencing Mum. She pulled into the car park and said nothing until we stopped; she unbuckled her seat belt and leaned over to hug me.

Moving my hair and hands away from my eyes, Mum cupped my face and said, "Ashley, listen to me. You are beautiful exactly the way you are. You are intelligent, funny, and kind. Please don't try to be like them. Your friends don't deserve you, and you don't deserve the amount of pressure they put on you. I love you the way you are, and so do your dad and Zoe," she paused as I nodded, pulling my lip between my teeth as my lungs tightened.

"You're sixteen. You think you need to be like all these stereotypical celebrities to be seen by boys and be popular but take it from me; your loyal friends will come when you just be yourself. Look at Alex and the other girls; you barely know them, and they like you, and you don't dress up for them. And what about Olly? He hardly knows you and sees something your friends you have known since you were five don't even see. Maybe it's time for a complete makeover, clothes, hair, and friends. Let's go all out today, get rid of this false, insecure Ashley, and get the real one back. The one I know is in here." She pointed to my heart and then wiped my tears with her thumb.

"Thanks, Mum. I needed that."

"You're welcome, sweetheart. Now let's go shopping." She opened the car door. "Oh, and Ashley, we don't intentionally keep you at home to damage your reputation. It's those friends of yours. I hear what Lauren is like, and it's our way of keeping from doing things I know you will only regret. Perhaps we would let you if you chose to go out with your new friends."

I had never thought of her strict rules like that, and once Mum had said it, I felt a little less anger towards her. If she let me out with Alex and the others, my summer holidays wouldn't be as bad as expected.

*

I caught Mum with glossy eyes whenever I started a war with the mirror when trying dresses on. It was clear she had been oblivious to how I felt about myself. But after trying on at least thirty dresses and experiencing every emotion about myself, I finally found the perfect one. It made my bust look good, my eyes pop, and my waist looked slim. My usual size hung on me, so I managed to go down a size, which boosted my mood by itself alongside her million compliments.

That's when the real tears came.

She bought me a matching clutch bag, shoes, and a pashmina and treated me to a hand massage while she got her nails done. I had my hair trimmed, and chunky red highlights added, which I had wanted for a while though my friends had put me off.

I loved it; it enhanced the darkness of my eyes, and I looked more like myself. The Ashley I wanted to be. The Ashley I was meant to be.

Once the makeover was over, I told Mum I wanted new makeup and clothes, hoping it would help bring out my true colours.

While Mum shopped for Zoe, I ventured into the area of the clothes shops I had never dared go to. And I didn't let those with piercings and tattoos intimidate me as I looked lost and out of place.

I bought a range of dark blue and black flared jeans, some cargo pants, and chords. As well as designer tops, red, black, and brown vest tops, fishnet and mesh tops, some chunky black boots, and a new leather jacket.

I had never felt comfortable in the clothes I had worn over the past few years. Lauren told me to wear the mini skirts, the pink, and the below-knee boots, regardless of never having the figure for them. I don't know why I ever listened.

After talking to Mum, I was calmer and happier, but I didn't know how long it would last. The next challenge I faced was returning to school and facing the backlash of doing things my way.