"Charles, remember to have fun." Dad smiles at me.
"Charli." My mom turns my head to look at her. "You know that dress costed my pay check. Having fun isn't important. You're a winner. You want to win and you will win, okay?"
"Okay," I respond quietly, lacing my fingers together. "Can this be my last pageant?"
Dad picks me up. "If you don't want to do this anymore you don't have to."
"David! Stop telling my child lies."
Dad ignores Mom. "If this is your last one, you're going to have fun up there." I wrap my arms around his neck. "You're a very pretty girl. You don't need a tiara and a trophy to prove that."
"Can ages four through ten come on up?"
Dad puts me down. "I love you."
"I love you too."
Mom ignores me and Dad has to walk me over to the side of the stage.
"Number forty-eight. This is six year old Charli Thompson." The announcer says happily. I walk out onto the stage in my pink dress like a doll, grinning and walking slowly. "Charli's favorite things to do are swimming, painting her nails, singing, and pageants." I do a little spin and start moving slowly toward the exit. "Thank you, Charli."
Mom doesn't say a word to me the rest of the day. Not even when I win Ultimate Grand Supreme.
—
I fix my brown hair one more time in the mirror before starting to second guess my shirt. It's a cropped brown tank top. I have simple flare jeans and black Doc Martens on. "Char. Let's go. You're gonna be late." Dad calls from downstairs.
He's by the door holding out my keys and backpack. "Thank you." I put a backpack strap on one of my shoulders and take the keys before hugging him. "I love you."
"I love you too, kid." He hugs me back. "I'll see you for Christmas, alright?"
"Alright." He kisses my cheek before letting me go.
I get in Mom's shitty old car, putting my stuff in the seat next to me and pulling out of the driveway.
Mom moved me to a high school further away from Dad.
I hate being new.
This school is huge.
I find a space to park. I turn off my car and lean back in my seat, sighing and looking at the building.
Okay. First day. It'll be great.
In the first five minutes of walking around, I get catcalled twice and hit by a basketball. "What the fuck?" I turn around, my head pounding where the ball hit it.
There's a tall girl in baggy jeans and a t-shirt running toward me. "Are you new?" She squints at me.
"No "Sorry?" Jesus Christ."
"Do you even go here?" The girl rolls her eyes. "It was an accident. Get over it. I'm Becca." She holds out her hand.
"Fuck you. I'm Charli." I turn around and head toward the school.
"Bitchy slut." She says as I go.
I sit in the office, waiting for the principle to get done with a call.
